'Hangul'... "From the Monopoly of Power to the Liberation of Humanity"

[Magazine Kave=Park Soo-nam Reporter] In 15th century Joseon, script was synonymous with power. Chinese characters were not just a means of notation but a fortress supporting the noble class. Only those who mastered the difficult Chinese characters could pass the state exams and seize power, and interpret complex laws to dominate others. The illiterate commoners had no means to appeal even if they suffered injustice, and could only look at the notices on the government walls with fear, unable to read the content that could determine their fate. Knowledge at the time was not a subject of sharing but a tool of thorough monopoly and exclusion.

For the ruling class, the universalization of knowledge meant the loss of vested interests. The fierce opposition of scholars like Choi Man-ri to the creation of Hunminjeongeum was rooted in the arrogance of "Why share knowledge with the lowly?" and a fundamental fear that their sanctuary might be invaded. They criticized it as "contrary to the duty of serving China" or "the act of barbarians," but the essence was the fear of the collapse of the class order. Literate commoners would no longer blindly obey.  

The Limitations of Idu and the Disconnection of Communication

Of course, attempts to notate our language were not nonexistent. Idu, Hyangchal, and Gugyeol, developed since the Silla period, were desperate measures by ancestors to write our language by borrowing the sounds and meanings of Chinese characters. However, this could not be a fundamental solution. As revealed in Choi Man-ri's appeal, Idu had clear limitations as "recording natural language in Chinese characters, with variations in notation depending on region and dialect."  

Idu was not a complete script but merely a 'half-baked' auxiliary means accessible only by overcoming the huge barrier of Chinese characters. To learn Idu, one still had to know thousands of Chinese characters, making it as unattainable as a pie in the sky for the common people. Moreover, Idu was a rigid style for administrative work, too crude and narrow to capture the vivid lives and emotions of the people, their songs, and laments. The imperfection of the communication tool meant a disconnection in social relations, causing 'arteriosclerosis of speech' where the voices of the people could not reach the king.

Love for the People, Not a Slogan but a Policy... A Revolutionary Welfare Experiment

We praise Sejong as 'the Great' not because he simply expanded territories or built splendid palaces. Few leaders in history were as thoroughly focused on 'people' as Sejong. His love for the people was not an abstract Confucian virtue but manifested in radical social policies aimed at concretely improving the lives of the people. Among these, the 'maternity leave for slaves' system best illustrates the ideological background of the creation of Hunminjeongeum.

At the time, slaves were treated as 'talking beasts' and listed as property. However, Sejong's perspective was different. In 1426 (Sejong 8th year), he ordered that female slaves of the government be given 100 days of leave after childbirth. But Sejong's meticulousness did not stop there. In 1434 (Sejong 16th year), he added 30 days of leave before childbirth, stating, "There are cases where mothers die because they cannot recover after giving birth and immediately returning to duty." A total of 130 days of leave, a groundbreaking period longer than the 90 days guaranteed by modern South Korea's Labor Standards Act.

Even more shocking was the consideration for husbands. Recognizing the need for someone to care for the mother, Sejong granted 30 days of leave to the husband, a government slave, to nurse his wife. There is no record in any civilization, whether Europe or China, of granting paid maternity leave to the husband of a slave in the 15th century. This shows that Sejong recognized slaves not as mere labor but as 'family members' with inherent human rights. Hunminjeongeum is an extension of this ideology. Just as he gave slaves leave to protect their 'biological life,' he gave them letters to protect their 'social life.'

Asking 170,000 People... Joseon's First National Referendum

Sejong's communication method was not a unilateral top-down approach. He did not fear the process of asking the people's will when deciding on major national affairs. The anecdote of establishing the land tax law 'Gongbeop' proves his democratic leadership.

In 1430 (Sejong 12th year), when the Ministry of Taxation proposed a tax reform plan, Sejong conducted a public opinion survey asking for approval or disapproval from the people nationwide for five months. From officials to rural villagers, a total of 172,806 people participated in this vote. Considering that the population of Joseon at the time was about 690,000, it was a practical 'national referendum' with most adult males participating. The result was 98,657 in favor (57.1%) and 74,149 against (42.9%).  

The regional response was interesting. In Gyeongsang and Jeolla provinces, which had fertile land, approval was overwhelming, but in Pyeongan and Hamgil provinces, which had barren land, there was more opposition. Sejong did not push through with a majority vote. He took several more years to consider the circumstances of the opposing regions and devised a reasonable alternative (Jeonbun 6-grade law, Yeonbun 9-grade law) that varied taxes according to land fertility and annual yield. For a monarch who listened so attentively to the people's voices, the absence of a 'vessel' to contain their voices, a script, must have been an unbearable contradiction and pain.

The Agony of the Deep Night, the Secret of Direct Rule

Sejong kept the process of creating Hunminjeongeum strictly confidential. The Annals of the Joseon Dynasty barely record the discussion process of creating Hunminjeongeum, suddenly appearing in December 1443 with a brief record that "the king personally created 28 letters." This suggests that anticipating the backlash from the vested interests, the nobility, the research was secretly led by the king and royal family without even the scholars of the Hall of Worthies knowing. In his later years, Sejong suffered from severe eye disease and diabetes complications. Even in a situation where he could hardly see, he stayed up nights to create letters for the people. Hunminjeongeum was not the result of a genius's inspiration but the product of a sick king's devoted struggle, sacrificing his life.

Ergonomic Design... Modeling the Articulatory Organs

Hunminjeongeum was created based on the unprecedented principle of 'modeling the articulatory organs' in the history of world scripts. Unlike most scripts that imitate the shape of objects (pictograms) or are modified from existing scripts, Hangul visualizes the biological mechanism of sound production in humans as a 'map of sound.' The 『Hunminjeongeum Haerye』 clearly explains this scientific principle.

The five basic consonants depict the oral structure when pronounced, as if taking an X-ray.

• Velar (ㄱ): The shape of the tongue root blocking the throat (the initial sound of 'gun'). This accurately captures the articulation position of the velar sound.  

• Alveolar (ㄴ): The shape of the tongue touching the upper gums (the initial sound of 'na'). It visualizes the tip of the tongue touching the alveolar ridge.  

• Bilabial (ㅁ): The shape of the mouth (the initial sound of 'mi'). It imitates the shape of the lips closing and opening.  

• Dental (ㅅ): The shape of the teeth (the initial sound of 'sin'). It reflects the characteristic of the sound where air escapes between the teeth.  

• Glottal (ㅇ): The shape of the throat (the initial sound of 'yok'). It depicts the shape of the sound resonating through the throat.  

Based on these five basic consonants, the principle of 'adding strokes' according to the intensity of the sound is applied. Adding a stroke to 'ㄱ' becomes the aspirated 'ㅋ,' and adding a stroke to 'ㄴ' becomes 'ㄷ,' and adding again becomes 'ㅌ.' This makes sounds of the same phonetic series (sounds with the same articulation position) have morphological similarities, a systematic system that modern linguists admire. Learners can intuitively deduce the remaining letters by mastering just the five basic consonants.

Heaven, Earth, and Man... Vowels Containing the Universe

If consonants imitate the human body (articulatory organs), vowels contain the universe in which humans live. Sejong designed vowels by embodying the Neo-Confucian worldview of Heaven (天), Earth (地), and Man (人), the Three Powers (三才).  

• Heaven (·): The shape of the round sky (the basis of positive vowels)

• Earth (ㅡ): The shape of the flat earth (the basis of negative vowels)

• Man (ㅣ): The shape of a person standing on the earth (the basis of neutral vowels)

By combining (hap-yong) these three simple symbols, numerous vowels were created. When '·' and 'ㅡ' meet, it becomes 'ㅗ,' and when '·' and 'ㅣ' meet, it becomes 'ㅏ.' This is the pinnacle of 'minimalism,' expressing the complex world of sound with the simplest elements (dots, lines). Additionally, the philosophical message that man (neutral) harmonizes between heaven (positive) and earth (negative) shows that Hangul is not just a functional tool but contains humanistic philosophy. This vowel system is so future-oriented that it is directly applied to the input method of modern digital devices (Cheonjiin keyboard). It is the intersection where the philosophy of 600 years ago meets today's technology.

Choi Man-ri's Opposition Appeal... "Are You Trying to Become Barbarians?"

On February 20, 1444, seven scholars, including Choi Man-ri, the Vice Minister of the Hall of Worthies, submitted a joint appeal against Hunminjeongeum. This appeal is a historical document that starkly reveals the worldview of the ruling elite at the time and their fear of the creation of Hangul. Their opposition logic can be summarized into three main points.

First, the justification of serving China. They argued that "creating an independent script is something only barbarians do and will invite ridicule from the great nation (Ming China)." To them, civilization meant belonging to the Chinese character cultural sphere, and deviating from it was a return to barbarism. Second, the concern for the decline of scholarship. They viewed that "since Eonmun is easy to learn, if mastered, difficult studies like Neo-Confucianism will not be pursued, reducing talent," an elitist perspective. Third, the political risk. They claimed, "Moreover, there is no benefit to the governance, and it indeed harms the citizens' studies."  

However, what they truly feared was the 'easy script' itself. As Jeong In-ji revealed in the preface, "The wise can understand it before the morning is over, and even the foolish can learn it in ten days." If writing becomes easy, everyone will know the law, and everyone will express their thoughts. This meant the collapse of the 'power of information' and 'interpretation' monopolized by the nobility. Choi Man-ri's appeal was not mere conservatism but the pinnacle of vested interest defense logic.

Sejong's Counterattack: "Do You Know the Rhyme Books?"

Sejong, usually a king who respected his subjects' opinions and was a master of debate, did not back down on this issue. He rebuked Choi Man-ri and others, asking, "Do you know the rhyme books (phonology)? Do you know how many initials and finals there are in the four tones and seven sounds?" This shows that Sejong designed Hangul not as a mere 'convenience tool' but as a highly scientific system based on phonological principles.

Sejong suppressed the nobility's 'serving China' justification with the greater justification of 'love for the people,' saying, "Isn't Seol Chong's Idu meant to make the people comfortable? I, too, intend to make the people comfortable." He had a clear political purpose of allowing the people to avoid unjust punishments (dissemination of legal knowledge) and express their will through Hangul. This was one of the most intense intellectual and political struggles in the history of the Joseon Dynasty.

Yeonsangun's Suppression and the Survival of Eonmun

After Sejong's death, Hangul faced harsh trials. Especially the tyrant Yeonsangun feared the 'power of accusation' that Hangul possessed. In 1504, when anonymous letters criticizing his misdeeds and immorality were posted everywhere in Hangul, Yeonsangun was furious. He immediately issued an unprecedented 'ban on Eonmun,' ordering "Do not teach or learn Eonmun, and those who have already learned it must not use it." He collected and burned all Hangul books (book burning) and tortured those who knew Hangul. From this time, Hangul was demoted from its official status to being disparaged as 'Eonmun (vulgar script)' and 'Amkeul (script used by women).'

Reviving Voices... The Script Preserved by the People

However, even the blade of power could not cut out the script that had already permeated the tongues and fingertips of the people. Women in the boudoir recorded their lives and sorrows in Hangul through Naebang Gasa (boudoir lyrics), and the Buddhist community took the lead in translating (Eonhae) Buddhist scriptures into Hangul for popular propagation. The common people laughed and cried while reading Hangul novels and communicated through letters. Even within the royal family, queens and princesses secretly exchanged Hangul letters, and kings like Seonjo and Jeongjo also enjoyed using Hangul in private correspondence.

The people picked up and embraced the script officially abandoned by power. This proves that Hangul is not a top-down script but one that took root in the lives of the people and gained vitality from the bottom-up. This tenacious vitality later became the driving force to overcome the greater ordeal of the Japanese colonial period.

The Japanese Colonial Period, the Policy of Eradicating the Korean Language, and the Korean Language Society

In 1910, when Japan usurped national sovereignty, they thoroughly suppressed our language and script as part of their 'policy of eradicating the Korean nation.' From the late 1930s, they completely banned the use of Korean in schools and forced the use of Japanese (national language policy), and through the Soshi-kaimei policy, even changed names to Japanese style. In the desperate crisis that the spirit and soul of the nation would disappear if the language disappeared, the 'Korean Language Society' was formed, centered around the disciples of Ju Si-gyeong.  

Their sole goal was to create a 'dictionary' of our language. Creating a dictionary was an act of gathering scattered words, establishing a standard, and declaring linguistic independence. This grand project, which began in 1929, was called the 'Malmoe (gathering words) operation.' It was not the work of a few intellectuals. The Korean Language Society appealed to the entire nation through the magazine 〈Hangul〉. "Please send us your local dialects." Then a miracle happened. Men and women of all ages from all over the country sent their dialects, native words, and indigenous words to the Korean Language Society. Thousands of letters poured in. This was not just a collection of vocabulary but a nationwide linguistic independence movement in which the entire nation participated.

The Sacrifice of 33 People and the Miracle of the Seoul Station Warehouse

However, the Japanese surveillance was relentless. In 1942, the Japanese fabricated the 'Korean Language Society Incident' by picking on a phrase in a student's diary at Hamheung Yeongsaeng High School that said "I was scolded for using the national language." Thirty-three key scholars, including Lee Geuk-ro, Choi Hyun-bae, and Lee Hee-seung, were arrested and severely tortured. Lee Yoon-jae and Han Jing died in prison.  

Even more tragic was the fact that the 26,500 pages of the 'Korean Language Dictionary' manuscript, painstakingly collected over 13 years, were confiscated as evidence and disappeared. Although liberation came in 1945, the dictionary could not be published without the manuscript. The scholars were despondent. Then, on September 8, 1945, a miraculous event occurred. A bundle of papers was found abandoned in a corner of the Seoul Station Chosun Transport Warehouse. It was the 'Korean Language Dictionary' manuscript that the Japanese had intended to dispose of as waste paper but had left behind.  

The bundle of manuscripts buried in the dust of the dark warehouse was not just paper. It was the blood of the ancestors who tried to protect our language even under torture, and the earnest wishes of the people who had lost their country and sent in their dialects one by one. Without this dramatic discovery, we might not be enjoying our rich and beautiful vocabulary today. This manuscript is now designated as a treasure of South Korea, testifying to the fierce struggle of that day.  

The Script Closest to AI... Sejong's Algorithm

In the 21st century, Hangul stands at the center of another revolution, the era of digital and artificial intelligence (AI). The structural characteristics of Hangul remarkably align with modern computer science. Hangul has a modular structure that combines elements (phonemes) of consonants and vowels to form syllables. By combining 19 initial consonants, 21 medial vowels, and 27 final consonants, it can theoretically express 11,172 different sounds. This provides overwhelming superiority in information input speed and processing efficiency compared to Chinese characters, which require separate input and coding for tens of thousands of complete characters, or English, which has an irregular pronunciation system.  

Especially in the processing and learning of natural language by generative AI, Hangul's logical structure has a significant advantage. Thanks to the regular principles of letter creation (pictographic + adding strokes + combining), AI can easily analyze language patterns and generate natural sentences with relatively little data. The 'algorithm' that Sejong designed with a brush 600 years ago is blooming again today in cutting-edge semiconductors and servers. Hangul is not just a legacy of the past but the most efficient 'digital protocol' for the future.

A World-Recognized Documentary Heritage... An Asset of Humanity

In 1997, UNESCO designated Hunminjeongeum as a 'World Documentary Heritage.' Although there are thousands of languages and dozens of scripts worldwide, Hangul is the only script where the creator (Sejong), the time of creation (1443), the principles of creation, and the manual (Hunminjeongeum Haerye) explaining its use remain intact.  

This is because Hangul is not a script that evolved naturally but an 'intellectual creation' meticulously planned and invented based on high intellectual ability and philosophy, recognized by the world. Nobel Prize-winning author Pearl S. Buck praised Hangul as "the simplest yet most excellent script in the world," and said, "Sejong is Korea's Leonardo da Vinci." It is no coincidence that the UNESCO award for individuals or organizations contributing to literacy is named the 'King Sejong Literacy Prize.'  

Sejong did not create Hangul merely for practical purposes, such as enabling the people to write letters and learn farming methods. It was to return 'voice' to the people. To let them shout when wronged and record when unjust, liberating them from the prison of silence, was a radical declaration of human rights.

The same goes for the Korean Language Society martyrs during the Japanese colonial period, who risked their lives, and the common people nationwide who sent in their dialects through crumpled letters. It was not just about making a dictionary. It was a desperate struggle to protect the 'spirit' and 'soul' of the nation suffocating under the imperial language of Japanese. Today, the reason we can freely send messages on smartphones and leave our opinions on the internet is thanks to the blood and sweat of those who fought against power and endured oppression for 600 years.

Hangul is not just a script. It is a record of love that began with "pity for the people," and the prototype of democracy that aimed to make "everyone easily learn and become the master of the world." But are we taking this great heritage too much for granted? In modern society, there are still silences of the marginalized. Migrant workers, people with disabilities, the poor in Korean society... Are their voices being properly conveyed to the core of our society?

The world Sejong dreamed of was one where all people could fully express their will. When we not only take pride in Hangul but also record and represent the 'lost voices of the present age' with this script, the spirit of Hunminjeongeum's creation will be completed. History belongs not only to those who record it but to those who remember, act, and shout it out.