2025 Sejong Writing Competition
Winning Entries :: Essays :: Senior first place
Title: Between Betrayal and Survival: The Fluid Morality of "Kapitan Ri"
History is rarely a simple tale of heroes and villains. It is a shifting landscape of contradictions, where survival and morality often blur. Dr. Yi, the enigmatic figure in "Kapitan Ri", embodies this ambiguity. His choices, serving the Japanese and aligning with the Americans, can be seen as cowardice or necessary adaptation. But as history has shown, morality is not fixed; it is shaped by perspective, time, and circumstance.
Dr. Yi’s story is one of shifting identities and survival. His life is shaped by forces beyond his control, including Japanese occupation, Russian imprisonment, the Korean War, and the arrival of the American army. Each upheaval forced him to make difficult choices, often prioritizing pragmatism over principle. These decisions, however, are not rooted in ideology but in necessity. As a contemporary reader in the United States, my judgment of Dr. Yi is shaped by the American ideal of loyalty. However, as a Korean American, I recognize the instinct to adapt for survival. Though his actions are not always moral, they are undeniably realistic, reflecting how individuals adjust to changing societies.
Yi does not willingly abandon his Korean identity. Instead, he clings to it while adapting for survival. After Korea’s liberation, he restores his daughter’s Korean name and expresses reservations about her marrying a non-Korean. These choices complicate the image of him as a simple opportunist. They suggest that even as he shifts allegiances, he is not entirely detached from his heritage. However, his pragmatism often comes at the cost of others. He survives not through loyalty but through skill, stating, “revolutions may come and the nation change hands, but the way out has never been blocked for Yi Inguk” (72). His surgical ability is his greatest asset, allowing him to navigate shifting political landscapes. His ability to adapt is a defining trait, but it raises an unsettling question: does survival justify everything?
Yet his pragmatism has a moral cost. Though he fears turning away a sick prisoner, his fear is rooted in self-preservation, not ethics. The Japanese had warned him that “silence is the first commandment,” and he internalizes this, becoming a bystander rather than a resistor. Earlier, when contemplating whether to treat a patient, he thinks of the “Last Judgment,” showing he is not devoid of morality, yet still chooses inaction. His medical practice, meant to heal, becomes a tool for self-preservation. He turns away patients to protect his economic status, revealing opportunism that transcends political shifts. His profession should be defined by service, but instead, it becomes a shield against the instability of history. It is this self-interest, rather than mere adaptation, that makes him susceptible to criticism.
For an older generation of Koreans, judgment of Dr. Yi could be more polarized. Betraying one’s countrymen during colonization is an unforgivable act to some. However, others who endured the same hardships might sympathize with his choices. While some condemn him as a traitor, others understand that in times of chaos, survival often comes at the expense of idealism. The generations who lived through these historical upheavals might be more inclined to see Yi not as a villain, but as an unfortunate product of his times, someone who made choices that many would rather not acknowledge they, too, might have made in his position.
Yet what makes "Kapitan Ri" particularly compelling is that it does not demand that the reader pick a side. Rather, it presents a character shaped by history, one who exists at the intersection of ethical compromise and necessity. Yi is not a man without feeling; he experiences fear, guilt, and self-doubt. But he is also not a man of firm conviction. He does not resist injustice; he endures it, often at the cost of others. This is why he remains such a fascinating and controversial figure, because he embodies the reality that morality is often a privilege, and survival is rarely clean.
Dr. Yi’s story forces us to ask uncomfortable questions about human nature, history, and the cost of survival. How do we judge individuals who choose to prioritize endurance over principle? Can we call them cowards, or do we recognize that history is shaped as much by compromise as by conviction? Perhaps more than any other character, Yi represents the ordinary person thrust into extraordinary circumstances, someone forced to bend rather than break. The tension between his actions and his inner doubts makes him one of literature’s most compelling figures, not because he is good or evil, but because he is, ultimately, human.
By examining how different readers might judge Dr. Yi, "Kapitan Ri" reveals profound themes of shifting identity, survival, and moral ambiguity. The story resists simplistic notions of good and evil, emphasizing that morality is multi-layered and shaped by experience. While some may see Yi as reprehensible, others recognize him as a reflection of historical reality. Morality, much like history, is not written in ink but in water. It shifts depending on who is looking and when. Just as history is rarely a tale of clear heroes and villains, neither is the story of Dr. Yi. His life reminds us that judgment is often a matter of perspective and that moral certainty is a luxury few can afford in times of upheaval. "Kapitan Ri" compels its audience to question how history remembers those who navigate power and survival, reminding us that morality is rarely absolute but rather a product of circumstance.