Toward the close of the nineteenth century, Korea's Joseon dynasty had grown feeble. The condition of Korea's peasantry at that time was utterly wretched. Corruption among government officials, crushing taxation, and the encroachment of foreign powers — Japanese imperialism above all — had driven the common people to the edge of endurance.
Against this tyranny, the peasants rose together in a great armed uprising, which came to be known as the "Donghak Peasant Revolution."
In March 1894, peasant rebellion broke out in the Gobu region of southern Korea. Between April and May of 1894, the revolt spread with astonishing speed, and many towns fell under the control of the rebels.
The principal leader of the Donghak Peasant Revolution at that time was Jeon Bong-jun. Being somewhat slight of build, the people of Korea affectionately and respectfully called him "Nokdu Janggun" — the "Mung Bean General." For though the mung bean is small, it is exceedingly hardy. Under Jeon Bong-jun's leadership, the peasant army won many victories and struck fear into the government.
To crush the peasant rebellion, the Korean government sought the aid of China's Qing dynasty. Using this as pretext, Japan too marched its modern, well-armed troops into Korea without permission.
At the Battle of Ugeumchi, a fierce clash took place between the Korean peasant army bearing ordinary weapons and the Japanese forces armed with modern rifles. In this respect, the battle bears a striking resemblance to Jayi Rajguru's armed struggle against the English in Odisha — for in both conflicts, one side wielded traditional arms while the other wielded the weapons of modern warfare.
At Ugeumchi, the Japanese slaughtered the peasants without mercy and crushed the uprising entirely. In just the same way, the English suppressed the First Paik Rebellion and killed a great many of the Paiks.
The leader Jeon Bong-jun was captured and hanged. Jayi Rajguru too was put to a merciless death at the hands of the English.
After the death of the Korean peasant leader Jeon Bong-jun and the failure of the rebellion, the people of Korea composed a poem to give voice to their sorrow — a poem that in time became a beloved folk song, known as "Saeya Saeya Parangsaeya."
Yet within every line of this song lies buried a historical code.
"Saeya saeya parangsaeya,
Nokdu batee anjimara.
Nokdu kkoji teoreojimyeon,
Cheongpo jangsu ulgo ganda."
Which is to say:
"Bird, oh bird, blue bird,
Do not perch upon the mung bean field.
If the mung bean blossoms fall,
The mung bean merchant will weep and go away."
Here, the blue bird signifies the Japanese soldiers of that era, for the Japanese army at the time wore uniforms of blue.
The mung bean field signifies Nokdu — the peasant leader "Mung Bean General" Jeon Bong-jun — and his peasant army. The Japanese are being entreated not to alight upon that field, that is, not to attack them.
In this way, this simple song became the silent lament of a vanquished people, and a tribute to those great peasant warriors who fought for their own soil — a lament that remains, to this day, a priceless jewel of Korean history.
Yet this Donghak Peasant Revolution of Korea, and its silent cry "Saeya Saeya Parangsaeya," was not confined to Korean soil alone. It reflects a tragic and glorious truth of human history — one that has revealed itself, again and again, in every corner of the earth. Whenever ordinary peasants, labourers, and tribal peoples have been driven to the limits of endurance by the tyranny of imperialists, landlords, and merciless rulers, they have risen with whatever traditional weapons lay in their hands to defend their dignity and their soil. On one side stand the well-armed modern guns and cannon of the ruling class; on the other, the self-sacrifice of ordinary peasants — this tale of unequal struggle may be found across many lands of the world, and nowhere more abundantly than in India.
Just as Jeon Bong-jun's Donghak movement arose, many such struggles were born in other corners of the earth as well. In place after place, the exploited classes fought and gave their lives for their own self-respect, and their grief was rendered immortal in local literature and folk song.
Toward the close of the nineteenth century, even as the Donghak Rebellion raged in Korea, the War of Canudos (1896–1897) was unfolding in Brazil, on the far side of the world. In the impoverished northeast of Brazil, driven by hunger, landlord exploitation, and callous governmental neglect, thousands of landless peasants, dalits, and rural labourers gathered at the call of a spiritual leader named Antônio Conselheiro, and founded a self-reliant, exploitation-free rural settlement called Canudos. Brazil's newly formed government, regarding this peasant community as a threat to its authority, attacked it with cannon and modern rifles.
The peasants of Canudos, armed only with common farming implements and traditional weapons, resisted with great courage for a time, but the army razed the village of Canudos utterly to the ground. An estimated fifteen to twenty-five thousand peasants and local inhabitants were mercilessly killed in this struggle, and their tragic defeat and sorrow have been mournfully recounted in Brazil's traditional "cordel" literature and in local folk songs.
On the African continent, the Mau Mau Rebellion (1952–1960) of Kenya's peasants stood as another regional counterpart to the Donghak movement. After British colonial rulers seized the fertile lands of Kenya's Kikuyu and other peoples and reduced them to labourers upon their own soil, the peasants rose in struggle under the leadership of Dedan Kimathi. The British army crushed the rebellion with modern military aircraft, firearms, and overwhelming force, and hanged Kimathi. Kimathi's sacrifice, and the sorrow of a people who had lost their own land, have been preserved through generations in the oral tradition, poetry, and song of the Kikuyu language.
In China, Korea's neighbour, the Boxer Rebellion (1899–1901) too arose against the interference of foreign powers. Against the economic exploitation of imperialist nations, against famine, and against the intrusion of Christian missionaries, a secret society called the Yihetuan rose up, drawing together peasants, local warriors, secret fraternities, and even some who supported the imperial court. These rebels, who practised traditional martial arts and wielded ordinary swords and blades, were suppressed with the utmost ruthlessness by the combined modern armies of eight foreign nations.
India's history, too, is rich with tales of unequal struggle and self-sacrifice among peasants, tribal peoples, and local warriors. Like Jeon Bong-jun, many of India's leaders have given their lives for their own soil.
Even before Jeon Bong-jun's Donghak movement, in India's Santhal Pargana, the Santhal Rebellion — or Santhal Hul (1855–1856) — rose against the tyranny of English rule, moneylenders, and landlords, and stands among the greatest peasant and tribal struggles in Indian history. Under the leadership of four brothers — Sidhu, Kanhu, Chand, and Bhairav — thousands of Santhal peasants gathered as one. While the Santhal fighters possessed only bows, arrows, axes, and traditional weapons, the British army, wielding modern rifles, crushed the rebellion without mercy. Between ten and twenty thousand Santhals, or more, lost their lives in this struggle, and Sidhu and Kanhu were captured and put to death. Among the Santhal community survive traditions such as the "Kherwal Kudum", along with cryptic poetry and symbolic folk literature, in which the sorrows, ways of life, and struggles of society live on even today, encoded through nature and metaphor.
In the Chota Nagpur plateau, Birsa Munda's "Ulgulan" (1899–1900) bears close resemblance to the Donghak movement in many respects. Just as the Koreans affectionately called Jeon Bong-jun the "Mung Bean General," the Munda tribal peasants addressed Birsa Munda with love and reverence as "Dharti Aba" — "Father of the Earth." Against the British forest laws and the abolition of traditional land rights, Birsa rallied the common people together. In the battle of Dombari Buru hill, the British army, armed with modern guns, killed many tribal fighters who bore only bows and arrows in the Munda ranks. Birsa was captured, and died within prison. The bloodshed of Dombari hill, and the tale of the immortal soul of "Dharti Aba", are sung in Munda folk songs even to this day.
Odisha too was mercilessly exploited, oppressed, and subdued by the Mughals, the Marathas, and the English. Though Odisha did not produce a single central song for the whole state, as Korea did with "Saeya Saeya Parangsaeya," the reason lay in the fragmented and regionally scattered nature of Odisha's struggles.
Because the Donghak movement in Korea united the peasants of the entire country at one particular moment, a single song was able to spread across the whole nation. But in Odisha, the struggles occurred at different times and in different territories. From 1757 to 1902, the people of Odisha waged more than twenty-five great armed struggles for freedom. Among the most notable of these were the Ghumusar Uprising of 1757, Jayi Rajguru's armed struggle at Khordha in 1804, the Paik Rebellion under the leadership of Baxi Jagabandhu in 1817, Veer Surendra Sai's long struggle in Sambalpur, the rebellions of Chakra Bisoi and Dohra Bisoi in Ghumusar, and the sacrifice of martyr Laxman Nayak in Koraput.
From Korea's "Saeya Saeya Parangsaeya" to India's Santhal "Kherwal Kudum", the Munda folk songs, Andhra's "Burra Katha", or Odisha's "Paika Gatha" — at the root of all these creations lies a single soul.
Imperialist and tyrannical rulers may defeat peasants and tribal peoples on the battlefield with modern weapons; they may raze their villages to the ground; they may hang their leaders. But rulers can never kill the oral memory, the culture, and the folk song of a people.
When the victors write their own glory upon the pages of history, the common people preserve their sorrow, their struggle, and the sacrifice of their leaders within their own hearts — through song, through ballad, through poetry.
Korea's "Mung Bean General" Jeon Bong-jun; India's "Father of the Earth" Birsa Munda, Sidhu and Kanhu; and Odisha's own Jayi Rajguru — all these heroes, even after their deaths, remain forever immortal in the folk songs and oral traditions of their own soil.
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