Neuroblastoma genetic alterations

o

Born the year Sejong ascended the throne, he became one of the young scholars in the Chiphyon-jon, or Hall of the Assembly of the Wise, and thus was one who assisted Sejong in the development of hangul. He was also one of those accused of plotting the restoration of the boy-king Tanjong and sentenced to death.

Before his death Song, also a poet, composed a four-line poem in Tang Chinese style. Korean scholars from Silla times onward had excelled in Tang poetry. They revered the famous Tang masters Li Pou and Tu Fu and wrote poems inspired by the masters.

The poem Song Sammun left is a gallows poem, one he allegedly wrote on the way to his death:

The beating of the drum calls for a life.

I turn to see the sun is about to set.

On the road to hell, is there a tavern?

At whose house will I rest my head tonight?

Song’s poem is dark and guilt ridden, yet it may be meant ironically:

Song knew his death was unjust and that his reputation was likely to be restored posthumously, which it was. He is heralded as a great martyr who died for his principles and was unjustly murdered by an unrighteous king.

Source of poem: Song Sammun. Untitled poem. Available online. URL:

http://k.daum.net/qna/view.html?qid=HUEm. Accessed February ,

009. Translation by Mark Peterson.

A BRIEF HISTORY OF KOREA

To understand the nature of the dispute that had developed by the late 15th century, one must understand the constraints on the king implicit in Confucian government. Confucius taught that a virtuous ruler listened to remonstrance, which was defined as rightful criticism; the good king sought review and criticism of his actions. Korea’s Confucian-inspired government structure included several offices that institutionalized the practice of remonstrance and made sure that the king would receive his daily allotment of it. In this arrangement the remonstrating official was guaranteed immunity from royal recrimination.

The three offices for remonstrance were collectively called the Censorate. The role of the first was to watch the king; the second watched the bureaucracy; and the third, which was originally a library—a kind of lecture hall for the king—took on censoring duties in that the high officials there had frequent contact with the king. Although each had a distinct and separate duty, in fact, they all tended to do the same thing.

After all, if there was a problem in the bureaucracy, it became a problem for the king, since he made all appointments. In addition to the three offices of the Censorate, there was also the Royal Lecturate, an office that would meet with the king almost daily to study the Confucian classics. The young scholars who would teach young kings, debate with middle-aged kings, and be lectured to by old kings would occasionally criticize the king. Far from being an autocrat or dictator, the king was constantly being reviewed and criticized by government officials. This system worked for all the kings except Yonsangun.

The first purge unfolded in 1498, four years after Yonsangun became king. The issue was the writing of the history of Songjong, his father. A scholar named Kim Chongjik had written that Songjong’s grandfather, Sejo, was a usurper. Because the legitimacy of Yonsangun’s great-grandfather reflected on the legitimacy of Yonsangun himself, the king was enraged to find a criticism of Sejo. Although the author of the history had died six years earlier, Yonsangun struck out at Kim’s disciples who were holding government offices. The purge was a series of executions and banishments. Not only were the living punished, the dead were persecuted as well. Kim Chongjik’s body was exhumed and his body parts scattered. Criminal punishment often involved cutting the offender’s body into eighths, so that one body part could be sent to each of the eight provinces and there posted with a sign identifying the criminal and his crime. This punishment was carried out on Kim Chongjik’s body. (Just as people could be tried and “executed” after they had died, so they could be restored or exonerated. Later Kim was exonerated.)

9

Yonsangun was not finished. In 1504 he learned that his mother, who had died when he was three, had been persecuted and forced to drink poison. This sent him into another rage, and he purged several dozen more officials whom he had identified in the persecution of his mother. The second purge prompted the government to undertake the difficult and perilous task of deposing the king. The government suc-cessfully arrested Yonsangun, stripped him of his powers, and sent him into exile. Choson practices of punishment often included banishment, which was always internal. Often the banishment was lifted after a few years, but at other times the case was reheard and a more severe penalty decreed, including the death penalty; this was the case for the boy king Tanjong, in 1455, but Yonsangun did not stand for a second trial. He was banished to an island in the Yellow Sea, where he died a few weeks later. The record does not say how he died, but one can assume it was not a natural death.

Cho Kwangjo

The government installed the king’s brother, Chungjong (r. 1506–44), as the next king. His reign was long and peaceful, but he did enact one purge in 1519 (Sung Moon Kim 2002, 233). This purge was quite dif-ferent in nature from those conducted under Yonsangun. In this case a bright and ambitious young scholar who had passed the civil service exam was the center of the problem: Cho Kwangjo (1482–1519). Cho found the king open to new and liberal ideas and argued that the exams were too philosophical, too detached from the practical needs of the government. Their basic idea was that good men make good govern-ment, a “good man” being one who understood the classics; by admin-istering a test to see who knew the classics, one could identify good men and establish good government. Cho basically agreed with the need for an exam to determine which candidates were best qualified, but he argued that some of the questions ought to deal with practical matters and not just Confucian philosophy. The king agreed, and Cho was allowed to administer the next exam. He thus recruited a corps of young scholar-officials to help him in leading the government in a new and more practical direction.

In his idealism, however, Cho also attacked the conservative ele-ments close to the king. The king had rewarded a large group of more than 100 men with lands and slaves for helping him secure the throne.

Cho was able to convince the king that 76 of those men should be eliminated from the rosters of merit. This, of course, enraged those cut

A BRIEF HISTORY OF KOREA

off from power and wealth, and they in turn convinced the king that Cho was dangerous and ambitious. The king accepted their indictment, and Cho and several of his closest allies were executed, with several others exiled.

The way the enemies of Cho Kwangjo got the king to turn against him is one of the more unusual stories in Korean history. His accusers found leaves of trees on the palace grounds chewed through by insects, leaving holes arranged in such a way that they seemed to spell out the words “Cho would be king.” Cho’s enemies were able to convince the king that it was an omen. In reality, someone had written on the leaves with honey, and insects had eaten away the sweetened areas, thus creat-ing the holes and the message.

At only 37 years of age, Cho was executed by poisoning in 1519 along with a handful of his colleagues. In Choson Korea, however, issues sur-rounding an individual and what he did, right or wrong, did not end with his death. In subsequent years Cho was restored posthumously. His offices and honors were all restored to him, meaning that his descen-dants got the benefits of their ancestor’s position. Above and beyond restoration, Cho Kwangjo was one of those selected for enshrinement in the National Confucian Shrine, one of 18 to be named a sage.

The fourth in the series of purges unfolded in 1545. King Chungjong died in 1544 and was replaced by his son Injong (r. 1544–45), who chose as his advisers allies of Cho Kwangjo, but King Injong died after eight months as king. He was replaced by his half brother Myongjong (1545–67), who was only 11 years old. Injong and Myongjong, sons of Chungjong, were born of different mothers; coincidentally, both women were named Yun. Each also had an uncle, known as “Big Yun”

and “Little Yun,” with tremendous influence over the king and the court. Injong and Big Yun leaned toward Cho Kwangjo’s supporters, but Myongjong and Little Yun were on the side of those Cho had removed from the merit roster. They led the purge of 1545 in which more of Cho’s young Neo-Confucian idealists were banished.

Yi Hwang and Yi I

The balance of the 16th century was a time of great peace and progress, particularly in regard to Neo-Confucian philosophy. From 1545 to 1592 the major landmarks on the historical scenery of Korea were the two giants of Neo-Confucian scholarship, Yi Hwang and Yi I.

Yi Hwang (1501–70), also known by his pen name, Toegye, was the older of the two, but his work overlapped that of Yi I, also known

9

by his pen name, Yulgok (1536–85). The two scholars met only once but exchanged letters from time to time. More important than the things they discussed with each other, however, were the issues they discussed with their disciples. The issues were extremely arcane, deal-ing with philosophy as developed by the great Chinese Song dynasty scholar Zhu Xi. He, with other scholars, was responsible for the revival of Confucianism called Neo-Confucianism. Zhu Xi had worked in the realm of previous scholars who wrote commentaries on the classics, but his approach was so comprehensive that it was a virtual reconstruction of Confucianism. Yi Toegye and Yi Yulgok made their contributions by commenting on Zhu Xi’s commentaries.

The two great 16th-century Korean scholars agreed more than they disagreed, but they and their disciples were known for what they dis-agreed on. The important issue was that by that point, with 200 years of experience with Neo-Confucianism behind it, Choson-dynasty Korea had become an orthodox, thoroughly committed Confucian society, at least philosophically. Although most of their discussion centered on arcane aspects of Neo-Confucianism, such as whether li or qi domi-nates, Yi Hwang and Yi I famously disagreed during these discussions.

At the outset of the dynasty, there were court records of complaints that certain officials were not carrying out the ceremonies; later, however, the prestige associated with being able to carry out the ceremonies seems to have been sufficient motivation for those who could afford it. Since the proper performance of the ceremonies was an expensive affair, only the upper class could afford such luxury. This and the printing of one’s genealogy, another expensive enterprise, thus became proof that one belonged to the upper class. The genealogies recorded the important dates on which ceremonies were to occur as well as the gravesites, the places where such ceremonies took place.

One of the more practical issues Yulgok raised was military prepared-ness and a possible invasion from Japan. He warned of the need to raise a larger army; this went unheeded, and he died in 1584. By 1592 the people of Choson Korea must have wished they had been better pre-pared: The Japanese invaded.

The Japanese Invasion of 1592–1598

Korea was to be forever changed by what happened in 1592. Again, it was events outside Korea—this time in Japan—that impacted Korea.

The 16th century in Japan was a time of political turmoil and unend-ing warfare. When one warlord, Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1536–98), was

A BRIEF HISTORY OF KOREA

finally able to unify the island nation under his control, he looked for other lands to conquer.

The Japanese objective was not Korea, however, but China. Toyotomi Hideyoshi sent a note to Korea in 1591 asking for an “imperial road”

to China through Korea. Ever loyal to “older brother” China, Choson Koreans were insulted by the request and reacted with outrage: How could this insignificant island kingdom dare to invade the great empire of China? More to the point, how could the island of “dwarfs”—the Korean pejorative for the Japanese—ever think that the Koreans would turn their backs on China? Still greater insults were about to be inflicted on the people of Korea.

In response to the letter asking for passage to China, the Korean court sent an embassy to Japan. Upon his return the ambassador reported that the Japanese threat was groundless and the Korean court need not worry about a possible invasion. The deputy ambassador, however, offered a dissenting opinion. He reported that he had left the official delegation and looked around in Japan, had seen soldiers and their arms, and had concluded that the threat was credible. The king, choosing to accept the ambassador’s report and ignore the deputy ambassador’s warning, made no special preparations for the defense of the country.

It may not have made a difference. Korea probably could not have prepared for the invasion in time because, unlike the Koreans, the Japanese were experienced in warfare—Hideyoshi’s forces had just conquered the other warlords of Japan to unify the empire—and the Japanese had superior weaponry. Japanese contact with Europeans, which began in 1543, had led to the purchase and manufacture of muzzle-loading firearms. The Koreans had cannon and gunpowder, but they had not developed the smaller weapons that could be carried, hoisted to a shoulder, and fired.

In addition, the Japanese were highly trained. They had been at war for a century and knew warfare. The Koreans had been at peace for exactly 200 years—since the founding of the dynasty, which had been done with minimal warfare. Before that Korea had been at peace for an additional 100 years or so. Koreans had had border skirmishes with Jurchens in small bands and had fought Japanese pirate bands along the coast, but Choson Korea had virtually no combat experience. On bal-ance, Koreans were not prepared to fight the powerful Japanese army.

The Japanese landed a large force near Pusan on May 25, 1592, and quickly overwhelmed the minor resistance there. They then marched and fought their way to Seoul, arriving in less than three weeks. One

95

could hardly walk that far in that time, let alone fight and conquer, but the Japanese did. They almost completely overwhelmed the Korean forces. The slaughter of Koreans continued for another seven years.

Japanese invasion of Pusan on the southeast coast, 1592 (Academy of Korean Studies)

A BRIEF HISTORY OF KOREA

When the Japanese reached Seoul, the residents panicked; many fled, including the king. King Sonjo (r. 1567–1608), otherwise a popular and capable king, was jeered and pelted with debris as his royal entourage

Japanese invasion overcoming the inland fortress of Tongnae in 1592. The riders at the top of the painting are heading off to warn other areas that the Japanese armies have arrived. (Academy of Korean Studies)

9

left for the Chinese border. Some outraged slaves burned government buildings ahead of the Japanese soldiers to destroy the records of their servile status.

The salvation for Korea came in the form of Chinese intervention on land and Korean naval success at sea. The Chinese court had debated whether they should intervene in Korea. There were clearly “hawks”

and “doves” in the debate. The hawks argued that the Chinese had a tributary relationship and duty to go to Korea’s aid and that it was bet-ter to fight the enemy abroad than to be forced to fight on home soil (an argument not unlike that heard at various points in 20th-century America). The doves argued that it was not their fight and judged that the Japanese, barbarians who had never posed a threat before, could not possibly be a threat to the great “Middle Kingdom.”

The Chinese response, when it came, was strong and full: The Chinese sent both foot soldiers and ships. Together with the Korean forces that were able to regroup and fight for the homeland, they were able to stall the Japanese invasion by early 1593.

Admiral Yi Sunsin

Korea’s naval strategy was one point of success in the country’s struggle against the Japanese invaders. Led by a remarkable admiral, Yi Sunsin (1545–98), the navy was able to cut off Japanese supply lines, which extended from Seoul to the Chinese border, by repelling Japanese ships sailing around the southern and western coasts. Admiral Yi had prepared a strong navy whose fleet included some “turtle boats,” ships with a protective covering of metal plates to make them impervious to the fire arrows of the enemy. These turtle boats were the first ironclad warships in the world. More than the ships, however, Admiral Yi’s knowledge of the Korean waters and skill in planning an attack were the decisive factors in Korea’s naval victories.

Having reached a stalemate, the combatants entered a protracted period of negotiations from early 1593 to 1597. During the break in fighting, officials at court turned to faultfinding. One of the tragedies of the war was that one of Yi Sunsin’s rivals at court raised an indictment against him that for some reason the king accepted. Yi was arrested, relieved of his command, and reduced in rank to a foot soldier. When the war resumed, the new commander, Won Kyun (d. 1597), believed a spy’s false report that the Japanese forces were marshalling near a certain island. Admiral Won sailed into the trap and lost nearly every ship. Admiral Yi was then restored to the command, and the naval

A BRIEF HISTORY OF KOREA

battles went once again in Korea’s favor. In the final battle of the war, Yi Sunsin died at the helm of the command ship in a story as dramatic as any story of heroism in combat found in history or fiction: He was mortally wounded but had his nephew, who was fighting at his side, keep him upright so the sailors would not be disheartened by seeing the loss of their commander.

The renewed warfare was occasioned by a breakdown in negotia-tions between the Chinese and the Japanese; the unfortunate Koreans, on whose territory the war was fought, were powerless at the side of the superpowers at the negotiating table. The sticking points of the

The renewed warfare was occasioned by a breakdown in negotia-tions between the Chinese and the Japanese; the unfortunate Koreans, on whose territory the war was fought, were powerless at the side of the superpowers at the negotiating table. The sticking points of the