Few cities grow in an orderly way. In most, the agencies mandated to impose
order upon them lag years behind the inhabitants, who, rushing to the
opportunities of the town from the economically bleak rural areas, seek
shelter wherever they can. Thus are born the slums of modern Asia. Decades
may pass before municipal governments catch up, and by then what had begun
as ad hoc camps for refugees from the countryside have become settled
neighborhoods. Too often it is these communities of settled squatters that
pay the price for their government's later efforts to modernize the city.
Before the slick new office towers, shopping malls and apartment complexes
can rise, come the wreckers, and before the wreckers, the evictions.
The uncontrolled growth of Asia's cities is a fact of life, and nowhere more
so than in the Republic of Korea. First, the countryside was disrupted by
the civil war of 1950-1953, and secondly, the rice that was supplied by the
United States under Public Law 480 to help in economic reconstruction was
cheaper than that grown by the Korean farmers themselves. Consequently
farmers left their land for the cities.
It has been the goal of Father JOHN VINCENT DALY and his colleague PAUL
JEONG-GU JEI to protect the lives and communities of those people who are
most vulnerable in the process of modernization—by opposing voracious
developers and profit-minded officials and by building neighborhoods
compatible with the needs and the means of the newly urban poor.
JOHN DALY comes from Philo, Illinois, in the American midwest. Born there
November 21, 1935, he was youngest of the two sons and daughter of Leo F.
Daly and his wife Ellen V. Joyce. JOHN had a happy childhood on the family
farm, exploring the "idyllic, wonderful" countryside on horseback and being
reared by his parents in an atmosphere of Christian piety. Two of his
aunts—one on each side—were Dominican nuns, and he remembers fondly the
attentions of a priest who brought him presents of books—usually the lives
of saints—and took him riding in his car. Young DALY attended St. Thomas
Catholic School in Philo for his first eight years. By the time he was ready
for high school the depression had eased and his father could afford to send
him to Campion Jesuit High School (1949-1953), a boarding school 300 miles
away in Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin. Campion's young Jesuit seminarians
inspired him to become a Jesuit priest, and he took his undergraduate and
graduate degrees (B.A. in Classics, M.A. in Philosophy, Licentiate in
Philosophy, 1953-1960) at St. Louis University in St. Louis, Missouri.
Missionary work attracted DALY from the start and in 1960, while still a
seminarian, he was sent to the newly opened Jesuit university of Sogang in
Seoul, South Korea, for a three-year assignment teaching English and
philosophy. He was sent to Korea because it was the missionary territory
assigned to the Wisconsin Province of the Jesuits to which he belonged. In
1963 he was called back to St. Louis to pursue a Licentiate in Sacred
Theology and become ordained. He returned to Seoul in 1967, resuming his
teaching position at Sogang.
Both in the early 1960s and after his return students flocked to his office,
in direct proportion, he noticed, to the worsening political situation in
Korea, and the concomitant clamp-down on the media and on freedom of speech:
"they just wanted to hear a little bit of truth somewhere." He spent most of
his time talking to them, helping them find their way among the moral and
political issues of the time and deciding, among other things, whether or
not they should demonstrate. The priest always encouraged them to make their
own decisions based on their values and a clear-sighted assessment of the
risks, but when university authorities instructed him to counsel his
students not to protest, he refused.
An incident in 1969 disturbed him deeply. To keep a large student
demonstration on the avenue outside the university from "rowing out of
control, the police promised its leaders that if the students simply sat
down in the street, they would not act against them. The students agreed,
but as DALY recounts it, "when they were in the very awkward position of
just sitting down . . . when you don't have any balance—the police attacked
them and started beating them up. It was so mean and dirty. I gained an
insight into the way things were going. It was a real turning point in my
life. " About that time he had his first personal run-in with the
government; he was apprehended for wearing a button saying, "Korea I am
sad."
From 1970 to 1973, in addition to teaching at Sogang, DALY was Director of
Novices. One of the order's requirements is that a novice spend a month or
more "experiencing" the difficulties of the sick or downtrodden as a path to
spiritual development. (St. Ignatius, founder of the order in the 16th
century, had challenged would-be members to travel without money, begging
for their needs, and work in hospitals and among prostitutes.) Seeking an
equivalent test in Seoul, DALY worked out a program through Kim Jon-hong, a
Presbyterian slum minister whom he knew through the Urban Problem Research
Institute, to send two of his novices for one month to Cheong Kyei Cheon
slum, situated in the heart of Seoul. The following year, 1973, he decided
to go there himself. "I was teaching the novices," he explains, "teaching
theology, and I was getting tired of just saying the right words. I was
living with my lips, as they say in Korea. " His skeptical Superior gave in
to his plan and with Kim's help he rented a tiny room near Hwalbin (Let the
Poor People Flourish), the tiny church Kim had built and was pastor of. Thus
with bedroll and blanket under his arm, JOHN VINCENT DALY moved into Korea's
largest slum. And there he met PAUL JEONG- GU JEI.
JEONG-GU JEI was a scholar's son, born March 1, 1944 to a family of means
and distinction in Korea's South Kyong-sang Province. In his village of Ko-sung
a statue commemorates his grandmother who is revered as a model wife, one
who in the Confucian tradition was totally devoted to her husband. And
there, too, his father, Byung-kun Jei, is remembered as a learned and just
community leader. It was his mother Su-yeon Park, who also came from a
landed family, that managed their 33-acre farm and its many workers, and
raised JEONG GU, third oldest among his four brothers and sister. Byung-kun
was a staunch Confucian and a Korean nationalist who regaled his children
with stories of heroic ancestors who had resisted Japanese invaders, and
told them tales of bitter times under the Japanese yoke, which was lifted
only as a result of Japan's defeat in World War II. JEONG GU’s youth
coincided with the uncertainties and suffering of the Korean civil war, and
he was only 12 when his father died.
Young JEI attended local schools Dae Heung Elementary (1950 1956), Ko-sung
Middle (1956-1959), and Jin Joo High in Jin Joo (195
1962)—and then fulfilled his three-year military obligation. He became a
sergeant in the artillery. The army disgusted him, and he remembers
specifically the lunatic wastefulness of it: "they wasted the food; they
wasted the machinery; they wasted the people," he says. Once, in winter,
local commanders, dressing up their compound for a visit by a high ranking
officer, ordered the soldiers to cut trees off at their bases and "replant"
them elsewhere! "Completely crazy," JEI says.
As a high school student JEI had been alert to the student revolution which
toppled President Syngman Rhee in 1960, and to Park Chung-hee's coup d'etat
the following year. At first he felt both changes boded well, but by the
time he entered Seoul National University in 1966, the corruption and
injustice under the Park regime had thoroughly disillusioned him. In
addition Park began normalization of relations with Japan and JEI believed
that Korea was going to be swallowed up by the latter. Formally a student of
political science, he was soon completely engrossed in student activism.
By the spring of 1971 JEI was leading student actions against compulsory
military training at the university and had become an object of official
interest. In April police violated the customary sanctuary of the campus and
later arrested him along with other demonstration leaders JEI was
interrogated roughly and detained for two days. Unintimidated, he moved
quickly back into the fray. As Korea prepared for the duly elections he and
other student activists supported the opposition candidates for the
presidency and the National Assembly. Park's claim to victory at the polls
outraged them and set off a more militant series of protests in the fall.
A crackdown came in October and JEI was expelled from the university for
leading demonstrations. As other student leaders were being swept into a
police dragnet and taken to trial, JEI spent two months moving clandestinely
from one house to another. When the police finally caught him, they beat him
severely for three days and then let him go. In the wake of this cathartic
experience "I felt very, very free," he recalls. At this point he heard
about Pastor Kim Jin-hong. His return to the university now barred, JEI
sought him out.
JEI was attracted to Kim's commitment to living poorly among the poor and
his impassioned advocacy of the underprivileged. Taking up residence there
in 1972 JEI began working with the pastor, although his Confucian upbringing
had prejudiced him against Christianity and, up until then, he says, "what I
saw of Christianity I did not like at all." But this was clearly a different
brand of Christianity. With Kim as his mentor JEI studied the religion and
was baptized in 1973, taking the name PAUL.
In the same year JEI met Veronica Myeong Ja Shin whom he finally married on
April 17, 1976 after overcoming her family's opposition. From a wealthy
family, Veronica was a theology student who came to the slum to teach in a
night school, run by Kim, for children employed in factories during the day.
Ironically, after they married her family lost its money, her father died,
and JEI found himself emotionally, and to a certain extent financially,
supporting her mother and brothers.
Cheong Kyei Cheon slum, in which JEI had in a sense sought refuge and in
which he was to meet DALY, had grown like a fungus along the banks of a
small river. Cheong Kyei Cheon, in fact, means "pure, clean stream of
water," which it may have been at one time. Up to 40,000 people lived there,
huddled together in a confusion of rough cement block houses and shacks made
from discarded tin drums, cardboard and rags; some people had even made
homes by thrusting stakes in the ground and draping them with plastic,
others simply by digging holes. For water one stood in line at a communal
pump—one for some 12,000 people and the makeshift toilets stood on rickety
piles above the stinking stream.
JEI and DALY met through Pastor Kim, and for awhile they shared quarters.
Having come to Cheong Kyei Cheon first, JEI helped introduce DALY to life in
the neighborhood, and the latter was shocked, especially by the helplessness
of the sick, who regularly died for lack of the
simplest medical care.
JEI also shared with DALY his critical perspective of the problems of Korea.
"We talked a lot, and that's when I got a much fuller briefing on what the
students were about," the priest remarks. For awhile, however, DALY adopted
a passive attitude; he had no agenda other than to be there: "I had no
projects, no work. I just followed Kim around."
Not so for JEI, who having been reinstated in Seoul National University, was
once again busy organizing students against Park, and in particular against
the Park-crafted Yushin Constitution which limited popular rights and
favored an authoritarian presidency. JEI formed a nucleus of older activists
like himself and when Park cracked down harshly on dissidents in
September—an episode during which independent-minded members of his own
party were beaten and Kim Dae Jung was kidnapped from Japan—JEI and his
fellows led bold protests at the university. After the furor settled down in
November JEI threw himself into organizing a larger movement of students—now
from other universities as well—to launch massive, simultaneous
demonstrations when the schools reopened in March. But events were
pre-empted by the government. On April 3,1974, Park promulgated his Fourth
Emergency Decree and the regime announced the discovery of "a communist plot
of university students to overthrow the government." Eight members of a
small leftist party, the In Hyeok Tang or People's Revolutionary Party, were
executed, and JEI and 300 other activists, whom the government linked with
the In Hyeok Tang, were rounded up. Tortured for two weeks, JEI put his
thumbprint to a confession of setting up a network of students around the
country to demand changes in the Yushin Constitution. A military tribunal
sentenced him to 15 years for subversion.
In the same crackdown Kim was also arrested and jailed—he had defied a ban
on making public statements against the constitution. And DALY was forced to
leave the slum and return to his rooms at Sogang.
For 11 months JEI was imprisoned, most of the time at Sasang in Pusan.
During this time he read deeply about the lives of Catholic saints,
particularly St. Ignatius, and was converted from Protestantism to
Catholicism; he and Veronica were both later confirmed as Roman Catholics.
In February 1975 public outcry over the eight executions and the mass
arrests forced the government into a gesture of leniency. JEI, Kim and the
others were given early release, although their terms could be reinstated.
JEI did not receive amnesty until 1984.
Returning to the slum, JEI found a community in turmoil: a portion of Cheong
Kyei Cheon involving 2,400 families was to be redeveloped, its inhabitants
evicted. Over the years JEI had observed that the slum was a real community.
People there formed relationships, made bonds, and fell into cozy and useful
interdependencies just as neighbors do everywhere. Eviction from the slum
would not only dispossess its occupants of their crude shelters, it would
also deprive them of their neighbors and neighborhood infrastructure. JEI
therefore decided to organize a group of families to move elsewhere
together. Fifty-four families joined him in pooling the small amount of
settlement money provided by the government to displaced home-owners, and in
buying a large plot of cheap land outside Seoul. When it came to building
houses, however, the local authorities put up one obstruction after another.
JEI enlisted DALY to take up the problem with high officials, suspecting the
meddling hand of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency, a sort of shadow
government. When the Deputy Prime Minister (a former Sogang student) told
DALY, "better forget it," knew the project was dead. Today the site hosts
Seoul's Olympic Stadium.
By now both DALY and JEI were dedicated to working in the slums and, when
Cheong Kyei Cheon was razed and the latter's scheme fell through, they
decided to look for another slum. In 1975 DALY stopped teaching altogether
and he and JEI moved into the slum of Yahng Pyeong Dong.
Kim's work in Cheong Kyei Cheon had long since attracted attention abroad,
and before the eviction it had increasingly prospered through links with
foreign aid projects. Upon reflection JEI and DALY concluded that this
approach was based too much on doing things for people, and JEI, especially,
became disillusioned with what he called its "commercialized development"
and "flashy projects." In Yahng Pyeong Dong the two men proposed to try a
new technique based on a concept DALY calls "making a community." Here they
would "do nothing . . . solve no problems . . . have no programs . . . so
that the people would not become dependent on us as they had become
dependent on Kim's church." Their methodology? Aside from saying mass each
night, they would "just go in there and sit . . . to be catalysts, to bring
the people together."
In Yahng Pyeong Dong JEI and DALY took possession of two adjacent two-room
concrete "shacks" bought for them by the Korean Jesuits. They shared one as
a residence, even after JEI married Veronica and she moved in 1976. The
other they converted into a community center and called it Bogum Jahri, a
name they coined to exploit a felicitous double meaning: spoken, it connotes
a happy home; written, it means place of good news, i.e. the gospel. DALY’s
nightly masses soon attracted a faithful crowd of participants to Bogum
Jahri, originally many of them grade and middle school students, almost none
of them Catholic. The two men used the mass occasions to encourage casual
socializing among those who came and, without imposing any further structure
upon the gatherings, prompted those present to talk with each other about
their lives and problems, i.e., to share. Gradually, as they hoped, "a sense
of community arose. And the lines of action, " wrote DALY, "were not
vertical, but horizontal" He and JEI were not on top of, but rather in the
midst of, the community. "In the beginning many lines of interaction passed
through us, but later on the lines of interaction gradually bypassed us and
went directly to and fro among the people themselves. "
On one occasion while sharing, a group of Yahng Pyeong Dong children, who
were among the poorest in Korea, proposed selling scrap bottles and paper to
raise money for those less fortunate than themselves; subsequently they gave
to Korea's Cardinal, Steven Kim, the equivalent of US$25.
In 1977 the authorities notified the residents of Yahng Pyeong Dong that
they, too, were to be evicted. As to where they might go, and with what
resources, the residents were left on their own as usual. In addressing the
crisis DALY and JEI waited for a solution that would come from within the
community itself and that would also preserve the community. Others in the
slum were thinking. One day some of the leaders approached the two: "We have
become neighbors with you," they said, "so let's remain neighbors and move
together." On the basis of this suggestion DALY and JEI made a plan to
rebuild their community elsewhere, in simple but decent housing which would
be constructed as well as owned by its inhabitants.
To pay for a building site and construction materials DALY called upon
church resources and the support of Cardinal Kim—who is, according to DALY,
"the most respected man in Korea," with the greatest "moral authority." Kim
had long been a champion of his and JEI's work in the slums and was a
frequent visitor to Yahng Pyeong Dong.
Large sums of money were needed for this ambitious plan because even on the
outskirts of the city land was already expensive. Fortunately a plea by the
cardinal, followed by a visit by DALY when he was in Germany (for an
international conference on housing, January 1977) to MISEREOR resulted in a
grant of US$100,000 which secured the land; subsequent grants from the
Maryknoll Fathers of US$20,000, and the Jesuits in Wisconsin and Rome of an
additional US$20,000, helped to pay for the building materials.
It was DALY and JEI's conviction that their experiment must not be a
handout. For this reason the money was lent, not given, to the 170 families
that joined the venture, each of whom accepted an apportioned debt, to be
paid back in regular installments. In addition each family had to pay about
half the price of its new home out of pocket, putting up whatever
compensation money it might receive at the time of eviction and committing
whatever it had managed to save—for although most of Seoul's slum dwellers
are underpaid and thus poor, they are not as a rule unemployed. Each
participating family, in other words, had to make a substantial commitment
to the new community.
Having succeeded in making the above arrangements, DALY purchased a suitable
site in Inchon, on the outskirts of Seoul. Soon 170 families from what had
been Yahng Pyeong Dong slum set up tents on the new grounds and started to
build. It was a grueling process, made difficult because most of the men
worked long hours in factories six or seven days a week, and made urgent by
the need to finish before winter rains and cold set in. At intervals DALY
and JEI organized day-long celebrations of "games, drinking and food for
everybody" to relieve tensions and refresh fatigue-worn spirits. And this
was urgently needed. Having come from diverse sub-neighborhoods in the old
slum, people did not know each other well enough to cooperate. Construction
was marred by frequent quarrels and nasty fights, "bloody, bloody fights
with . . . hammers and broken bottles almost every day. . . I just thought,"
sighs DALY, "this is hell!" Nor were JEI and DALY spared the abusive anger
of the frustrated and weary amateur builders. They, as the latter recalls,
would "scream and shout . . . and say we were frauds." But slowly and
steadily the new homes went up, with "grandmas and kids" unloading trucks,
and DALY and JEI making cement blocks themselves until the others joined
them. DALY believes the anger and fighting contributed as much as the
celebrations to bonding the group, but it was a hard way to create a sense
of community.
When every dwelling was completed the cardinal came to say mass and the
participating families drew lots to learn which of the new homes were
theirs. They named the new village Bogum Jahri after the community house
where they had originally come together to discuss their options.
Bogum Jahri Village was a milestone for DALY and JEI; it showed that, with
an initial financial input from the outside, evicted slum dwellers could
acquire their own homes. It also showed that decent housing could be built
at a fraction of the usual cost and that it was possible to make financing
arrangements which poor people could understand and comply with. Indeed, all
170 Bogum Jahri families paid back their loans in a few short years.
But building and paying for homes was only the beginning of "making a
community." It was the hope of the two men that the new settlement, and the
security it represented, would nourish a whole range of positive linkages
among its occupants as they groped—but groped together—to overcome other
limitations placed upon them by poverty. Once more JEI and DALY adopted a
passive stance, waiting for particular needs to be articulated from within
the community, and only then acting as catalysts to provoke and facilitate
solutions. In time DALY, JEI and Veronica were joined by other like-minded
religious and lay people—an Australian Jesuit, two Catholic nuns, a
Protestant pastor, and four married couples and eight children—and they
organized themselves into a core community which they called the Bogum Jahri
Team. Team members pooled their incomes, some of which came from MISEREOR,
and allotted each adult and child a monthly living allowance commensurate
with other incomes in the village.
To meet their expenses without drawing excessively upon outside funds the
team undertook a candy making venture, and from the profits (US$7,000)
bought a small farm with a vineyard on it and began to make jam, an
undertaking managed by Veronica. In a good year the team makes 17,000 quarts
of strawberry jam in the spring and a like amount of grape jelly in the
fall. It hires some 15 women from the village to help, and sells the jam and
jelly through Catholic and Protestant churches, making a profit on each
quart of US$1.10.
Within the village the team has functioned in the casual manner pioneered by
DALY and JEI. As before the key to their work is "just being there." But the
team has also evolved into "a kind of model of cooperation and community
living to the people."
Among the most important consequences of interaction between the community
and the team was creation of the Credit Union. Fellow Korean Augustine Kang
(1981 Ramon Magsaysay Awardee for fostering "economically and humanely sound
credit unions") visited the Bogum Jahri community center to discuss the
rationale and methodology of credit unions, and JEI followed through by
taking a course in credit union management. Beginning as a modest
cooperative managed by team members, the union has grown into an
organization, managed by the people themselves, with pervasive influence in
the community. Today it has assets worth US$391,000 and only the business
manager is a team member.
The Credit Union not only provides banking services but sponsors dozens of
other activities: night classes; group birthday celebrations; young people's
gatherings; soccer tournaments; picnics, races, games and contests at the
annual Summer Festival; and a neighborhood newspaper. The Credit Union
office itself has become a place where people meet and talk about their
family life, their worries, their problems. This is what DALY had in mind
when he talked about creating a community.
The Bogum Jahri Scholarship Fund began in 1978 when a young teacher at
Sogang University started donating a portion of his monthly salary to poor
students. (In Korea students must buy their own books and supplies and,
after grammar school, pay tuition to attend government schools.) To this
ongoing gift the team added other donations and began giving small
scholarships to worthy students each year. Since 1984 the villagers have
taken over the scholarship fund, establishing a club whose members make
regular contributions. The members hope to be able to pay the educational
expenses of all primary, middle and high school students by the end of 1987.
Like the Credit Union, the Scholarship Fund Club has become a true community
organization; many of its members have no children but are contributors
nevertheless. The club sponsors the annual Summer Festival, and puts on a
bazaar and other money making activities. Today it has over 210 members and
assets of US$6,250.
The successful establishment of Bogum Jahri Village showed that an evicted
slum community could transform itself into a new stable neighborhood.
Moreover, as the villagers had faithfully paid off their loans, the grants
given by MISEREOR, the Jesuits and Maryknollers were now available for
reuse. This made possible an expansion of the experiment and the team
members were soon busy organizing a second resettlement project, a
five-minute walk from the first. It was sorely needed. Evictions of slum
dwellers to make way for redevelopment projects were on the rise.
The Bogum Jahri settlers had built simple, one-story row of houses of two to
four units, but in Han Dok village, as the new project was named, the design
called for long rows of two-story dwellings. Since they were to be two
storied, building codes prevented them from being owner-built. The team
attempted to compensate for the lack of the cathartic process of building
the village themselves by getting the people together frequently for
discussions, games and parties. During educational sessions the prospective
inhabitants of Han Dok were introduced to the Bogum Jahri philosophy.
The new complex was finished in 1979 and, one
by one, the families being evicted from eight different neighborhoods filled
its 164 units. New homes were added to Bogum Jahri at the same time. Han
Dok's occupants live, physically, closer to their neighbors than do Bogum
Jahri's, and DALY attributes to this fact the congeniality which has evolved
there—"you just can't avoid bumping into people!"
Bogum Jahri and Han Dok have developed side-by-side, sharing the same Credit
Union, Scholarship Fund Club, church, and other organizations. Joint
community life thrives. In addition to activities sponsored by the Credit
Union and Scholarship Fund Club, a lively Young People's Organization
practices and performs traditional Korean dance and drama, and weddings,
funerals and 60th birthdays are all-village affairs.
Some 70 percent of the families of the two villages have enlarged their
homes. There were attempts to start up communal cottage industries and two
production cooperatives, one raising rabbits, the other rattle, but none
have prospered. The catalytic presence of the team was instrumental in
initiating several of these activities, but now sponsors none of them. The
team itself is still rooted in Bogum Jahri but DALY, told by his superiors
that he could no longer live with lay people, moved with Antony Ruhan, the
Australian Jesuit, to Han Dok in 1982.
Once outside the city proper, the villages are now engulfed within the
crowded sprawl of housing, business and light industry surrounding Seoul.
The two units themselves contain shops and services of all kinds. There are
greengrocers, grain merchants, snack vendors, tailors, barbers, butchers,
and radio and bicycle repairmen; and stores sell clothes, shoes, hardware,
rice cakes and beer. In short, a certain modest prosperity has come to Bogum
Jahri and Han Dok. One reason is that property values in the vicinity have
appreciated 14,000 percent since 1977! Despite this, although many families
rent out rooms or shop space, only 20 percent have sold their homes and
moved away.
Unfortunately the settled and prospering citizens of Bogum Jahri and Han Dok
represent only a tiny fraction of those who have faced forcible eviction in
Seoul's mammoth redevelopment drive. In 1985 alone DALY estimates that
20,000 to 30,000 families were forcibly evicted to make way for the
greenbelts, industrial parks and new living and shopping complexes which
comprise the public face of Korea's economic miracle. Further hundreds of
neighborhoods will be bulldozed and millions of people displaced by 1992
according to current projections. Officially these redevelopment programs
address the common good, but DALY and JEI assert that redevelopment in Seoul
is really based upon the opportunity to make extraordinary profits through
speculation in land. Profits to the government and its private contractors
have soared to billions of dollars in some projects, they claim. These
projects for "the common good" neglect the well being of the really poor. In
the past only home owners have been compensated for eviction losses, and
then at a fraction of market value; renters received nothing from the
government, and only the lucky ones could redeem their deposits from their
landlords. What is more, when slums or low income neighborhoods have been
razed to build new housing, the housing has not been such that the poor
could afford. Slum dwellers, DALY concludes, "are displaced whenever
economic conditions make it profitable."
Some people have repeatedly been the victims of eviction— moving from slum
to slum just ahead of Seoul's voracious wrecking ball. DALY calls these
people economic refugees. They, he says, are the victims of a process which
is largely deliberate: first pushing farmers to the cities to swell the
urban work force by enacting policies which undermine incomes from
traditional agriculture; and second by exploiting squatter communities for
taxes and fees until such time as the land has become valuable enough for a
huge profit in the building of homes or apartments. When this happens, "the
refugees are evicted and sent away to another unliveable area."
The story of Mok Dong illustrates this process. Like many of Seoul's poorer
neighborhoods, Mok Dong began as a squatters' shanty town decades ago and
evolved over the years into an established community in which poor and
middle-class residents lived side by side. Most of its shacks had been
transformed into permanent dwellings by their hardworking occupants, and
these had long since been registered by the city and taxed. It was
interpenetrated with shops and small businesses. Its residents used public
water and electricity and were connected to the rest of the city by bus
lines which served them regularly. In short, Mok Dong was a crowded
neighborhood thoroughly integrated into the city. Many poor lived there, but
it was not a slum.
In late 1984 the city of Seoul announced that where Mok Dong stood it would
build a "new city" replete with modern apartments, schools, parks and
government offices. Residents were soon notified to leave. The government
offered compensation to those who owned their own buildings, but the 60
percent who rented dwellings or rooms in the community were offered nothing.
The original plans provided for low income residences to be built along with
housing for middle and upper income families, but this idea was later
scrapped and owners and renters were left with but two alternatives—to
resist or to seek housing elsewhere.
Early on members of the Bogum Jahri Team began urging the renters to resist,
and for the first time in a decade, says DALY, the victims of displacement
began to fight back. During the next eight months Mok Dong was a bedlam of
protests and demonstrations, some 200 in all, and these actions gradually
alerted the press and those in the religious communities (including
Buddhists), universities, and labor and farm movements to the plight of the
evictees.
The government branded the protectors as thugs and terrorists instigated by
communist agitators, and pointed to a spate of fires, rioting, and the
alleged kidnapping of a municipal bureaucrat as their doing. As a
consequence of the controversy, DALY says, redevelopment/ eviction became a
social and political issue. The members of the Bogum Jahri Team were
suddenly overwhelmed by visits of potential evictees from many areas seeking
advice and help, and by requests for lectures and information about
development policy and practices. The team thus found itself at the very
heart of the controversy, and the role it played was, from the perspective
of the authorities, thoroughly subversive.
One of the team's responses to the Mok Dong crisis was to launch a third
building project—MokWha. Contributions from MISEREOR, CEBEMO (the Dutch
government funding agency), the Jesuits, the Columban Fathers of Korea, and
the Archdiocese of Seoul subsidized the new buildings. The team hired an
architect who was keen to design a housing complex and earmarked the project
for the people who resisted eviction the hardest and longest. The outcry and
debate over Mok Dong, in which the cardinal himself interceded on behalf of
the evictees, finally resulted in a modification of government policy. For
the first time the city made provisions to help displaced renters.
Among the options the city offered was a housing loan to room renters who
wished to move somewhere else as a group and who were able to acquire land
to do so. Not surprisingly, some 1,200 out of 1,800 room renting families
attempted to sign up to receive loans and resettle together. But here they
faced the full force of government obstruction. For example, city officials
told them they didn't meet the requirements, or simply tore up their forms,
and police investigators came to their rooms "to persuade" them to select
another option.
In the end only 36 families were able to hold out for government assisted
group relocation. These were the first to be accepted as residents in MokWha.
Along with 69 other families—who had received but sold the certificates
entitling them to a place in the new city—they carted their worldly
possessions to a vacant lot next to the building site, set up tents, and
watched construction crews erect their four story 10 unit condominium. DALY
wrote a poem about the whole process which reads in part:
In spite of it all
In spite of all the pain
In spite of all the humiliation
In spite of going through eviction all over again We didn't give up
WE DID ENGAGE IN A BATTLE
True, it was only a little battle
But we won.
A deeper commitment to doing battle against the forces and agencies of the
evictors was the second outcome of the Mok Dong crisis.
"I am convinced," DALY has written, "that evictions of slum dwellers in
Korea are the greatest and clearest observable symptom and symbol of the
tremendous social injustice and evils in Korea. And I believe it follows
that in tackling the eviction problem we are striking at the very heart of a
very unjust system." Yet the scale of redevelopment in and around Seoul is
so vast, and the numbers of people vulnerable to eviction so huge, that
Bogum Jahri's villages scarcely put a dent in the problem. The people must
fight the process itself, he insists, and Bogum Jahri's Team is now
involving itself in a comprehensive effort to help them do so.
This effort is being expressed through DALY, JEI and the team's
participation and leadership within a network of organizations dedicated to
attacking social injustices. These include a number of committees and
commissions organized through the churches, such as the Federation of
Catholic Social Action Groups, Catholic and Protestant farmers'
organizations, and the Korean Church Social Mission Committee. JEI chairs
the Citizens' Problems Committee of the latter which is conducting
country-wide research on the eviction problem. He is also founder and
president of the Federation of the Inchon Area Social Action Groups, and is
Executive Secretary of the Inchon Diocese Justice and Peace Commission which
regularly petitions the government on issues relating to the constitution,
labor law and the urban poor. He, DALY and other team members are also party
to the Federation of National Democratic Movements, and to the Democratic
Unification National Committee to which major opposition leader Kim Dae Jung
belongs. These affiliations bring the team into contact with virtually
everyone concerned with organizing the slums and similar sectors of society.
Since 1984 the Bogum Jahri Team has undertaken initiatives to integrate the
activities of people organizing in the poor communities. One result is the
Federation of Catholic Pastoral Workers Among the Urban Poor, headed by JEI.
Its monthly meetings bring together with the Bogum Jahri Team all of the
others who have in the past several years begun working and living among the
poor of Seoul and other Korean cities. The federation serves to strengthen
the links, not only among the pastoral workers themselves, but through them,
among the scattered communities of slum dwellers. Besides advising the
bishops and cardinal concerning the appropriate church response to
evictions, the federation acts directly by issuing public statements and
appeals in crisis situations and by aiding evictees who are injured or
jailed as a consequence of protesting.
Bogum Jahri hosts the new Research Institute of the Urban Poor, also
directed byJEI; the team serves on the Executive Committee. The institute's
purpose is to conduct research and to publish studies relevant to the
problems of urban poverty. Its interests range from specific details such as
which contractors get lucrative redevelopment contracts and why, to broad
issues such as the relationship between poverty and culture. It also
sponsors and trains field workers who live in redevelopment areas and engage
in organizational work, and runs regular seminars and training sessions both
for young people interested in the urban poor and for local leaders from the
various evictee communities. The institute is prepared to respond
efficiently to requests from the press and others for information about
redevelopment and eviction. Advising the institute, which is headed by
Cardinal Kim, is a board of priests, scholars, city planners, architects,
lawyers and journalists. Funds for the Federation of Pastoral Workers and
the Research Institute come from MISEREOR.
The Bogum Jahri program has thus changed from being concerned only in
building communities to becoming a full-fledged movement of and for the
urban poor. It is now challenging the government's whole redevelopment
policy—and seeks to prevent the eviction of around 3,500,000 persons.
The militancy which the movement fosters among evictee communities is an
obvious anathema to the authorities, and the mutual mistrust is intense. For
years JEI's activities have been carefully monitored, and the government has
repeatedly tried to discredit him by labeling him a communist. These days he
is ordered either to stay home when official visitors come to Seoul and on
other occasions of state, or move about only with a police escort. Some
years ago when JEI was in financial difficulties the Korean CIA offered him
a job on the condition he break with DALY and leave the slums. He concluded,
he says: "If that is what the government wants, it must be wrong. Therefore
I will never separate from J.V. DALY and I will continue to live in the
slums."
The government takes a keen interest in the Bogum Jahri Team in general and,
says DALY, "tries to prevent people from joining our projects, and through
lies, unkept promises, red-tape and bureaucracy makes the work much more
difficult than it should be." For example, Mok Dong Village received its
building permit only after DALY went on a well publicized hunger strike for
three days and Cardinal Kim used his influence with government officials.
Both JEI and DALY believe there are informers within the villages and
ascribe to them the frequent charges that they are subversive.
Undeniably the charges are true. They do seek to subvert the current
policies of redevelopment in South Korea, and by doing so, as DALY comments,
"strike at the very heart of a very unjust system." And they seek to provoke
the government, if they cannot persuade it, into developing alternative
programs which address the needs and dignity of the urban poor and will
result in living situations where their humanity may flourish.
One of the errors of current redevelopment strategies, as the two men see
it, is that they are designed to draw Koreans into an ersatz modern culture
which apes the coarser characteristics of a greed-driven, industrialized
West, and which belittles, and thus hastens the end of, traditional Korean
culture. DALY fears people are being "tricked into believing . . . that only
the standard of living and way of life of the rich or of those who live in
Seoul, or of Americans and Europeans, is cultured, and that their way of
life is not cultured." This is why so much of his work has been focused on
creating conditions in which people may live happily but simply. And this is
why JEI prefers, in the long term, housing policies in which families do not
own property but simply lease it from a local government friendly to their
needs; this, he believes, would be more compatible with traditional Korean
values.
But fighting materialism may be more difficult than fighting the present
government. It is with some chagrin that DALY and JEI acknowledge that the
Bogum Jahri villagers now own property of considerable value, and that they
are, no less than anyone else, attracted to the material accoutrements of
modern life. TV antennas sprout from the roofs of the three Bogum Jahri
villages just as they do everywhere else. "Ordinary people are becoming much
more materialist," complains JEI. And DALY acknowledges, "we made no dent in
their materialism; as a matter of fact, as [the Mok-Dong evictees] saw with
their own eyes these beautiful homes become a reality, their materialism
increased by leaps and bounds."
Moreover, their own roles—as brokers between outside assisting agencies like
MISEREOR and "bankers" who handle millions of dollars of grants and loans
and negotiate mortgage terms with prospective villagers—carry a mixed
message. Recently, for example, the soon-to-be occupants of MokWha—the
heroic resisters from Mok Dong—boycotted the opening ceremonies of the
village and presented their list of demands and grievances to DALY and JEI!
The men understand the ambiguities of their position, and suffer the
misunderstandings, though not without personal disappointment.
They know that one consequence of having been victimized severely is to
mistrust everyone with power, including those who are helping them. They
also believe government provocateurs sometimes play a hand. But overcoming
mistrust is one of the harder tasks in creating community.
Religiously speaking, the presence of the Bogum Jahri Team in the three
villages has been dramatic. From about 12 percent in the beginning, today
some 70 percent of the villagers are Roman Catholics. For three years
(1979-1982) DALY served as pastor of the So Rae Catholic Church which was
built within walking distance of the villages.
JEI and his family of three daughters (Arum, 1977; Ami, 1978; Pinna, 1980)
continue to make their home in Bogum Jahri. As a man passionately devoted to
the cause of the poor, and inclined by temperament to action, he is a
successful organizer because "people trust him and he is able to reach
them." Open and winning in his manner, he is even able to break down the
reserve of his police escorts.
DALY, a slight man who "looks like an Italian painter with dark looks and
goatee," seldom speaks about himself, but admits that he is "doing very much
what he wants to do and enjoys doing what he is doing." He, too, is
passionate in the cause of the poor and indifferent to the risks. In his
partnership with JEI he is the theoretician and the voice of Bogum Jahri to
the outside world. Barring deportation from Korea he intends to continue as
he is: "This partnership," he says, "didn't just happen and it is not going
to fall apart."
Meanwhile the Bogum Jahri movement has taken on a life of its own. "It
always seems to be like a river which is flowing on ahead of us, and we are
following. Now," DALY says happily, "it's going helter-skelter in many
directions."
September 1986
Manila
REFERENCES:
Anzoleno, Jorge and Wendy Pousard. A Time to Build: People's Housing in
Asia. Australia: Plough Publication, 1985.
Daly, John Vincent. "An Appeal Concerning Redevelopment/Eviction Policies
and Implementation." Undated. (Typewritten.)
______, "Background Information for Understanding the MokWha Village," 1986.
(Typewritten.)
______, "The Day the Universe Stood Still." Undated. (Typewritten.)
______, "An Introductory Sketch of the Bogum Jahri." Undated. (Typewritten.)
______, "Participation of the People in Building Human Settlements—A Korean
(Bogum Jahri) Perspective," 1986. (Typewritten.)
______, "Some reflections about what is happening/what it means," 1986.
(Typewritten.)
______, "A Response to Mass Evictions in 1985," 1985. (Typewritten.)
______, Three Villages near Seoul, Korea," 1985. (Typewritten.)
______, "Where the Bogum Jahri is Now—December 1, 1985," 1985.
(Typewritten.)
Daly, John Vincent, and Paul Jeong-Gu Jei "Housing for the Urban Poor Our
Experience in Korea." Presentation to Group Discussion. Ramon Magsaysay
Award Foundation, Manila. September 5, 1986.
Mathison, Glen. "Thirteen Years of Fighting Back," The News Gazette. August
22, 1986.
"A Real Simple Thing," Mission Newsletter. Wisconsin Province of the Society
of Jesus. Vol. 4, no. 3, July 1984.
"Seminar on Grassroots Participation in Human Settlement Work: An Asian
Perspective," IMPACT. August 1986.
Swan, P. J. (ed), Seven Asian Experiences in Housing the Poor. Bangkok:
Asian Institute of Technology, 1980.
Interviews with John Vincent Daly, S.J. and Paul Jeong-Gu Jei, and documents
made available by them. Interviews with and letters from others acquainted
with their work.
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