Korea and Israel have striking similarities despite their geographical distance. In both cultures, for example, mothers are traditionally predominant and hold the real power, even though their societies are ostensibly patriarchal.

Both countries value learning and education. Both are devotedly religious.

The two countries have many things in common in the political sphere as well. For instance, both are labeled as regions of conflict due to persistent ideological or religious clashes between people who share the same ancestor. As professor Kim Uchang aptly points out, “Ideas similar to those that feed the forces in the Israeli society, such as Zionism, nationalism, capitalism, socialism and democracy, are prevalent in Korean society as well.”

A few days ago, I visited Wonju to attend the award ceremony for the 2015 Pak Kyongni Prize. There I met Amos Oz, the prominent Israeli writer who was this year’s prizewinner. From the moment I first met him, I was impressed by his charming personality and impeccable English. I was even more impressed by his insightful acceptance speech that deeply moved the Korean audience. Listening to his inspirational speech, I came to realize Oz was a truly great writer who was able to penetrate humanity’s innate problems and had the capacity to embrace others who were different from him, whether religiously or politically. 

Oz, who is one of the founding members of Peace Now, is known to advocate “a two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian problem.” In his eloquent speech, Oz said that when there is a fire, whether verbal or ideological, a writer should play the role of a smoke detector that rings the alarm or a fireman who puts out the fire.

Hearing Oz’s talk, I thought about some Korean writers who, instead of sounding the alarm, are divided into left and right factions, and hopelessly antagonize each other.

Oz also advised us to put ourselves in the other person’s shoes before judging or criticizing someone else. His suggestion reminded me of what Atticus said to his daughter, Scout, in Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird”: “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view, until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” Perhaps all the great writers share the same opinion: we should try to understand the other person by being in his shoes before condemning him.

Later Oz became more specific about the role of a writer, saying that if a writer ignores the atrocities around us and writes about natural beauty only, he betrays his conscience. On the contrary, if he becomes furious and signs a protest only, he betrays his art. “He’ll be a propagandist and a slogan writer, a walking exclamation point,” Oz said.

Oz suggested that under tyranny, a writer should stand up and protest. In a democratized country, however, a writer can easily be swept up by political propaganda by taking the side of a particular political party, Oz argued.

Then Oz persuasively pointed out what writers should do in times of crisis. “If you find yourself at the site of a serious automobile accident, or at a scene of violence, your first responsibility is not to condemn the driver who caused the accident, but rather to help the injured.” Unfortunately, however, some of our writers, who tend to fall for self-righteousness easily, are often busy blaming the driver for the disaster, instead of helping the injured and healing their wounds.

Oz also called for peace and reconciliation with our adversaries. “That would be the spirit of the great Korean writer, Pak Kyungni, wouldn’t it?” he said. Then he added, “The opposite of compromise is not integrity, but Nazism and Communism.” His speech was so moving and persuasive that the audience gave him a big hand wholeheartedly. 

At the end of his speech, Oz regaled the audience by sharing what his grandmother had told him. According to his grandma, the difference between Christianity and Judaism is that the former believes the Messiah came to this world already and will come again, while the latter believes the Messiah has not come yet and will come in the future. Due to such a petty difference in religious creeds, so much blood was shed in Europe. “My grandmother used to say,” Oz concluded his speech, “If the Messiah tells us when he comes in the future, ‘Nice to see you again,’ then Jews should apologize to Christians. If He says, “Nice to meet you,” then Christians should apologize to Jews. Why not wait and see, then?”

Hearing his grandma’s witty suggestion, the audience burst into laughter, nodding enthusiastically in agreement. Indeed, why do we have to hate and kill over such trivial matters? Suddenly, it occurred to me that her wisdom can be applied to our situation in Korea because we Koreans, too, are divided by conservatives and progressives, and antagonize each other over insignificant matters. To the Korean writers in the audience, Oz was an inspiration. As was his beloved grandmother.     

By Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and the president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. — Ed.