(가장 한국적인 감정이, 전 세계를 울릴 줄은 몰랐습니다.

→ I never imagined our most Korean emotions would touch the world.)

Reflections on K-Culture by the Han River

– How Did Korean Culture Begin to Move the World?

🌅 Seoul, Han River. A Summer Morning.
As always, the sun rose again today over the Han River.
Watching the sunlight spread across the calm waters, a thought quietly crossed my mind:

“Just like this morning sun, Korean culture has begun to shine softly—but powerfully—across the world.”
( 아침 조깅길에 한강 일출, 한강 위로 퍼지는 아침 햇살이 K-컬처의 시작을 떠올리게 합니다. Morning jog by the Han River. The rising sunlight over the water reminds me of how K-Culture quietly began to shine)

Lying on the grass by the Han River, letting the spring breeze touch my face, memories start to flow.
There were times of poverty and silence, when we barely had anything to call 'culture'.
And never could I have imagined that one day, people around the world would fall in love with Korean music, films, and dramas.

(평화로운 한강, 많은 시민들이 휴식을 즐기는 곳입니다. The peaceful Han River—a place where many Seoul citizens come to rest and breathe.)

But I lived through those years. So today, by this river, I ask a quiet question:
“How was K-Culture even possible?”

From Banned Culture to Cultural Export

When I was young, Korea was under military dictatorship.
The people were seen as targets for 'enlightenment', and both politics and culture were strictly controlled.
Back then, Korea was a country that was suspicious and cautious toward foreign culture.

(30년 군사독재 시절, 군사문화가 나라 전체를 뒤덮었던 시절. 제 어린 시절 창의력도 회색빛이었습니다. During 30 years of military dictatorship, military culture overshadowed the nation. Even my childhood creativity felt gray and suppressed.)

In the 1970s and 1980s, Japanese films and music were outright banned,
and foreign films could only be shown in limited quantities.
We even had a system called the ‘screen quota’.

(1980년대 극장, 군사문화 속에서도 예술가들이 창의력을 발휘하려 몸부림치던 시절입니다. A theater in the 1980s—when artists struggled to express creativity even under the weight of military rule.)

Pop songs were labeled ‘decadent’,
and songs that moved young hearts were often erased without hesitation.

At that time, Korean culture was something weak and in need of protection.
Artists had to pass strict censorship,
and some works were cut or edited arbitrarily—without regard for the creator’s intent.

Looking back, it was a truly regrettable time.
Yet even in that darkness, the seeds of culture quietly took root.

(70, 80년대 대학가요제, 사회를 보는 분이 SM엔터테인먼트 설립자 이수만 씨입니다. College music festivals of the '70s and '80s, hosted by none other than Lee Soo-man, founder of SM Entertainment.)

The Winds of Change in the 1990s

The 1990s were a time of great change in Korean society—
democratization, the rise of the internet, freedom of expression, and the emergence of a new generation.
One figure I especially remember is President Kim Dae-jung.

(김대중 대통령, 한국 최초 정권교체를 이룩하였고 IMF 위기를 극복하고 K-컬처가 꽃 피우도록 한 지도자입니다. President Kim Dae-jung—he led Korea's first peaceful regime change, overcame the IMF crisis, and laid the foundation for K-Culture to blossom.)

He believed in the philosophy that “culture is the future,”
and gave generous support to the film, music, and IT industries.
His principle of “support without interference” gave artists a breath of fresh air.

At the time, not many people believed him.
“Can culture really become an export?” they asked.
But his belief eventually bore fruit—what we now call K-Culture.

Why the Most Korean Is the Most Universal

K-Culture is not just about idols or dramas.
At its roots are traditions like Hangul, hanbok, and pansori.
And even deeper is the emotion of the Korean people.

(한글은 1443년 세종임금이 백성들이 쉽게 배울 수 있게 만든 글자입니다. Hangul, the Korean alphabet, was created in 1443 by King Sejong to make reading and writing easy for everyone.)

(한복과 판소리, 한류의 근본에는 이런 전통 복장과 소리가 있습니다. Hanbok and pansori—traditional attire and sound lie at the heart of the Korean Wave.)

The words ‘Jeong (affection)’ and ‘Han (deep sorrow)’ are difficult to translate.

These emotions live in Korean daily life, in our history, and in our storytelling.

I believe this is what moves people around the world.
Songs that carry pain, stories that hold both joy and sorrow—
this emotional depth is the true power of Korean culture.

Practice, Patience, Perfection – The Korean Way

Behind K-Culture lies the Korean spirit of persistence and passion.

K-pop idols train for years, enduring sleepless nights.

(BTS 연습 장면, BTS in training—a glimpse into years of hard work behind global success.)

Directors obsess over a single scene, writers polish a sentence endlessly.

(기생충 봉준호 감독, 봉 감독은 영화 디테일을 집요하게 파고드는 것으로 유명하죠. Bong Joon-ho, director of Parasite, is known for his relentless attention to cinematic detail.)

Koreans don’t know how to “do things halfway.”

If we make something, it’s with the intent to make it the best.
That focus and perfectionism shape the detail in K-Culture.

A Small Country with a Wide Vision

Korea is small.
The domestic market is limited.
So naturally, we looked beyond our borders.

(유럽과 비교해본 한국, A comparison between Korea and Europe—perspectives that reveal both contrast and connection.)

K-dramas were created with foreign audiences in mind,
and K-Pop reached the world through social media.

Cultural export was not a choice—it was a necessity.

The Age of Technology and Open Platforms

Now, content doesn’t need approval from broadcasting stations to shine.
We live in a time when great content can light its own path.

The internet, YouTube, and streaming platforms opened the way.
Anyone can create. Anyone can be seen.

In that shift, Korean content found its wings.

The Strategic Power of Talented People

My wife often says,
“K-Culture succeeded because the best and brightest entered the cultural industry.”

Talented graduates from Seoul National University, Yonsei, Korea University, and the Korea National University of Arts
have become producers, writers, and directors—
people who bring stories and emotions to the world.

(방시혁 의장, 서울대 미학과 출신으로 BTS를 키워냈죠. Bang Si-hyuk, a Seoul National University aesthetics major, nurtured BTS to global stardom.)

(봉준호 감독, 연세대 사회학과 출신으로 기생충을 만들었죠. Bong Joon-ho, a sociology graduate from Yonsei University, created Parasite.)

(황동혁 감독, 서울대 신문학과 출신으로 오징어게임을 만들었죠. Hwang Dong-hyuk, a journalism graduate from Seoul National University, created Squid Game.)

They didn’t just rely on emotion; they built strategy and structure into their content.

That’s why K-Culture didn’t remain a fad. It became a sustainable system.

Squid Game, Parasite – Stories That Are Deeply Korean

‘Squid Game’ showed traditional Korean games,
but what truly resonated was its exploration of human nature and survival.

(오징어게임에 나오는 놀이는 제가 어릴 때 매일 하고 놀던 놀이입니다. 그런 평범한 놀이가 세계적 공감을 얻을 줄 짐작이나 했겠습니까? The games in Squid Game were what I used to play every day as a child. Who would've thought such simple games would resonate worldwide?)

‘Parasite’ reflected Korea’s wealth divide,
but within it was a message anyone, anywhere could relate to.

(기생충은 한국 사회의 빈부격차를 통렬하게 꼬집은 영화입니다. 봉준호 감독의 놀라운 시각을 볼 수 있죠. 한국인으로서 두 번 보기는 싫은 작품입니다. Parasite is a fierce critique of wealth disparity in Korean society. Bong Joon-ho’s vision is astounding—but as a Korean, it’s a film I wouldn't want to watch twice.)

The most Korean things became the most global.
And that belief has finally come true.

Watching the Sunset over the Han River

Even now, as I watch the sunset over the Han River, I reflect.

(한강 노을은 가끔 이런 멋진 모습을 보여줍니다. 일출은 매일 볼 수 있지만 노을 보기는 쉽지 않아요.
Sometimes the Han River gives us a sunset this stunning. Sunrises are daily, but sunsets—those are rare.)

K-Culture wasn’t an accident.

It was a miracle born of history, hardship, innovation, sincerity—and strategy.

And again, I find myself wondering:

What story will Korea tell the world next?

Watch the full video here 👇
Click the thumbnail below to see the story come to life on YouTube.

insidekorea

How Korean Culture Quietly Conquered the World – A Reflection by the Han River