In human history, dreamers have sometimes met their end at the hands of assassins. Whether real people or fictional characters, dreamers are doomed to be eliminated or banished because they do not fit in.

Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, after he delivered the famous speech, “I Have a Dream.” Unfortunately, what he dreamed about in 1963 had no place in the harsh reality of the time. Other dreamers such as John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy and Malcolm X, were killed because they dreamed impossible dreams.

As a hopelessly naive dreamer, I have secret wishes, too, that might cost my life, and yet that has sustained me all through my life. My secret wishes have nothing to do with gaining secular fame by becoming a Cabinet minister or a National Assemblyman.

Instead, my humble dream is to see the reconciliation of the left and the right in our society. In my office at the Literature Translation Institute of Korea, I put up a photo of Hwang Sok-young and Yi Mun-yol smiling at each other affectionately in front of Mount Baekdu and the Yalu River.

Whenever I see the photo, I silently whisper, “Let politicians be engaged in ideological skirmishes, if they want. But why do you writers have to be divided by political ideologies and indulge in factional brawls?”

The photo of the two illustrious Korean writers, who represent the left and the right, reminds me of Martin Luther King’s famous speech, “I have a Dream.” Whenever I see the photo, therefore, I become heavyhearted and say to myself silently, “I have a secret wish that one day at schools and workplaces of Korea, progressives and conservatives will be able to sit together at the table of brotherhood. That, one day, Korea will be transformed from a tragically divided nation, a country sweltering with the heat of hatred and antagonism, into an oasis of love and affection. That young people in Korea will one day live in a country where they will not be judged by their political ideology, home province, or alma mater but by their personality and ability.”

Another secret wish of mine is embodied in a photo I put up in my study at home. It is a picture of a Jewish boy and an Arab girl smiling at each other while sitting on the shoulders of their fathers at Chicago O’Hare Airport. The Jewish boy is holding a picket that says, “Hate Has No Home Here,” while the Arab girl’s picket says, “Love.” The Jewish father holds a picket, “We’ve seen this before. Never again -- Jews against the ban,” and the Arab father’s picket says, “Empathy.”

The Trump administration’s recent travel ban on people from seven Muslim countries has inadvertently united even the Jews and the Arabs. It was a photo inadvertently taken at the right moment by a Chicago Tribune reporter and yet the heavenly image touched my heart so profoundly.

I have a secret wish that Korea will no longer cave in before our bully neighbors and valiantly stand up against them. At the same time, I wish we would stop offending or provoking our neighboring nations unnecessarily because of what happened in the past. It is much more important to discuss what we can do together in the future than to hopelessly cling to the unchangeable past.

I also wish we would stop repeating the vicious circle of political revenge once and for all. When and if we next have a left-wing government, I wish the left-wing politicians would not fill every position with their own men under the excuse of a purge.

However, we all know that they will try to control not only culture, education and film, but also publication and the press to use them as tools for propaganda. If so, they would be doing the exact same thing that the previous right-wing government did.

I wish that our political leaders had a vision for the future of Korea, instead of being preoccupied with how to win the next election at any cost. I wish I could see a leader who could steer the nation in the right direction amidst the whirlpool of international politics. I also wish for the day when young Koreans finally overcome parochial jingoism and venture into the seven seas to embrace the world. I wish our youngsters would become truly global citizens, who freely converse with foreigners, work with them and accomplish things with their foreign friends.

Unfortunately, however, I know my secret wishes cannot be realized, at least not in the near future. I am well aware that the photos I put up in my office and my study are merely an exercise in wish-fulfillment. Nevertheless, I cannot let go of hope easily. So I am still holding onto it desperately, hoping to save the future generation and let them live in a better society. Meanwhile, the two touching photographs will remain in my workplace and home.


By Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. He can be reached at sukim@snu.ac.kr. -- Ed.