The 20th presidential election marks the first election in which young voters have conspicuously split across gender lines. Though 59 percent of men in their 20s voted for candidate Yoon Suk-Yeol, only 34 percent of women in the same age group did the same. President Yoon’s controversial employment of anti-feminist rhetoric held to garner support among young male voters has been one of the major reasons behind such a split. The chief of state has denied the existence of structural gender discrimination, promised to abolish the Ministry of Gender Equality and Family, and revoked past statements claiming he was a feminist, accusing the movement of preventing healthy relationships between men and women.

Employment of anti-feminist language by such a prolific figure may open ways for tactics of gender polarization to be more acceptable in mainstream politics. Such can only exacerbate the contentious, profanity-riddled nature of feminism in South Korean society; though the topic is hotly contested, comprehensive social discussion is difficult as its advocates often suffer from verbal abuse and social ostracization.

Divided We Fall

It's a zero-sum game. Though both genders claim to be victims of discrimination, nobody emerges as the perpetrator; a 2022 survey conducted by The Diplomat reveals that 46 percent of South Korean men and 71 percent of women in the 18 to 29 age group report that they have been victims of gender discrimination. The very way in which the two sides construe reality stands strictly antithetical, and such polarization has led to mutual animosity.

Though cases exist from both sides of the debate showcasing wrongful abuse against the other, it is unimpeachable that disclosing oneself as a feminist holds a much stronger negative connotation than the other side of the spectrum. Many outspoken feminists suffer from vitriolic online abuse; the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) reports that “women” and “feminists” are the most common targets of online hate speech in the nation. Reading a book by a feminist author, having short hair, or being associated with the pinching hand emoji that allegedly ridicules the size of male genitalia also attract a cascade of online assaults.

Skeletons In Our Closet

South Korea exhibits one of the worst cases of gender inequality among developed countries. The gender pay gap and statistics of crime against women are the most discernible indicators of systematic disparity, and the nation reports poor performance in both arenas.

For years, Korea has retained the disgraceful number 1 spot in the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) gender wage gap, currently standing at 31.5 percent. Less than one-fifth of the nation’s lawmakers are women; perhaps due to this chronic underrepresentation of females in the legal arena, sexual crimes against women are generally met with lenient sentences, with the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) reporting that a mere 30 percent of perpetrators found guilty of sexual crimes were imprisoned in the last 10 years. The nation also reports one of the highest rates of female homicide in the world, with the United Nations (UN) Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) recording that women account for 52.5 percent of the nation’s murder victims — a staggering statistic when considering when considering the global average of 21 percent.

Anti-feminism’s precipitous rise as a formidable political force, in turn, appears contradictory. Though feminism gaining traction in Korean society is not new, anti-feminism has a relatively short history of comprehensive consolidation. A strained economy, a coldly meritocratic system, and disillusionment with traditional notions of masculinity may be the major inducements behind this phenomenon.

South Korea is a staunch adherent of the notion of meritocracy. As showcased in a case study by the World Values Survey in which a meager 12.4 percent of Koreans reported to value equality while 64.8 percent favored inequality, Koreans easily tolerate inequality if distinctions are based on personal merit, whether that be self-earned or inherited. In this point of view, governmental policies designated to benefit women are viewed as reverse discrimination among Korean males, as women receive such incentives due to forces that had nothing to do with their merit. Women’s quotas have come under severe castigation under this line of reasoning, with President Yoon proclaiming that his government would abolish such gender quotas entirely.

Young Korean men, facing skyrocketing housing prices, a threadbare job market, and obligatory military service that many views as a “waste of their youth,” cannot easily sympathize with the notion of being in the subjective upper hand in issues of gender inequality. A 2021 survey by Hankook Ilbo reports that though more than half of men in their 50s and 60s agreed that “gender-based discrimination renders women’s societal status lower than that of men,” men in their 20s showed tepid agreement rates of 27.4 percent. As gender stereotypes abate and cut-throat competition rise without limit, young Korean males no longer view women as traditional subjects of protection, but rather as competitors. Women’s advancement heralded by feminism, in turn, is a direct threat to their financial stability.

Shake Hands?

Approaching this multifaceted phenomenon, a conundrum raises its head: how, exactly, does a society solve disputes between gender groups? Should an ideal society be one that has no discords at all due to one side of the debate being completely barred from participating? Though there were certainly no gender conflicts when females were treated as second-class citizens and prohibited from participating in social discussion, such a strained silence is a rightful relic of the archaic past.

In this line of reasoning, feminism’s contentious nature in Korean society might be a good thing in its rudiments; it signals that the nation has escaped the stringent, anachronistic binds of the patriarchy and provides all citizens the venerated right to free expression. What should be rectified, then, is not the gender wars in themselves, but the cascade of hate speech ubiquitously utilized in operating them, and the politicization and manipulation of gender disputes.

Though the nation’s economic struggles have played an unimpeachable part in exacerbating the conflicts, it is naïve to expect that alleviating the job or housing crisis would automatically result in concord between the genders. Such caustic animosity can ultimately only be solved by a comprehensive social conversation. Expression of one’s opinions should not be met with abuse; simply promulgating one’s standing must not attract verbal assaults.

General rancor cannot shroud the fact that the path to gender equality is one that should be founded on conversation, understanding, and empathy. We have a long way to go, but downright pessimism is not necessary.