Poet & ColumnistWatching Lee Ji-ho, the son of Samsung Chairman Lee Jae-yong, enlist in the Navy recently has left me with a complex mix of emotions. I find myself in a state of confusion. It is not because of the cliché assessments of "noblesse oblige"—the moral obligations fitting for those in high status—but because I am troubled by the fundamental question of who, in essence, is truly a Korean.

It must have been amidst a sense of fury that makes one's head spin and stomach churn. Who is that person who, like me, loves the Taegeukgi, sings the national anthem, and shares our history as descendants of Dangun? My mind keeps drifting to the Korean Confederation of Trade Unions (KCTU) and the Democratic Party on the other side.

We have seen not only those communist sympathizers who accept the fictional figure of Kim Il-sung as fact, but also those who renounce their nationality to evade military service—far too many people in this land who feel like strangers to me.

They were people who enjoyed abundant welfare under the protection of the Republic of Korea, driving luxury cars and indulging in extravagant food. When they refuse to share the fate of the nation and its people, who wouldn't turn away in disgust at such devastating shamelessness?

Thus, I found myself forced to redefine what it truly means to be a Korean. I have become convinced that a resident registration card is not an absolute condition for citizenship. Are you, simply because you hold a South Korean resident registration card, truly a Korean?

Amidst such reflections, I began to look at those around us. They were all our ordinary neighbors.

I think of a Russian woman who rushed to care for her partner after hearing he had cancer, even as he was preparing to give up on everything, ready to watch him die in solitude. I think of that same woman, now married, who works at demanding part-time jobs while looking after her husband.

When she couldn't reach him at work one day, she rushed home, only to find him sleeping soundly. Seeing him safe, she let out a sigh of relief and burst into tears. That Russian woman was, in every sense, a Korean.

Dorn Emily is from Germany. She built a house in a quiet part of Gyeonggi-do, sometimes bringing friends to stay, and she is a woman who loves Korea with all her heart. Drinking soju with pork belly grilled on a cauldron lid, Emily is undoubtedly one of our own.

Sophia, of the "Sophia Family," who is considering a fourth child after having raised three, is also truly one of our mothers who loves this country.

The Cambodian mother raising two sons, Ji-hoon and Seung-ju, at "Korea Gaeddongi" is clearly a Korean mother in anyone's eyes. "Tanya living in Korea" is from war-torn Ukraine, but her angelic face, smiling as she raises her beautiful children, warms our hearts.

They were all dear people of our nation. These ordinary individuals, whom no one pays much attention to, were our neighbors living as common citizens, and they were the people of the Republic of Korea.

There were other citizens of the Republic of Korea as well. I wonder if you know someone named "Pearl Buck," who won the Nobel Prize in Literature. You might be puzzled, but she is none other than the lady who loved the Republic of Korea so passionately that she even gave herself a Korean name.

Beyond her, there are other foreigners who are great figures that fought against Imperial Japan for Korea's independence. I am convinced that these individuals, whom we must never forget, are also among the people of Korea. Let me introduce a few.

Frank William Schofield (Canada), the only foreigner to participate in the March 1st Movement, and Homer Hulbert (USA), who called Joseon his "second homeland," devoted his life not only to supporting the independence movement but also to researching and disseminating the Korean language.

George Lewis Shaw (UK) provided his house, shops, and warehouses in Andong, China, to the Provisional Government and the Korean Youth Corps, and used his ships to help transport independence activists, weapons, and military funds. Albert Wilder Taylor (USA), who reported the Declaration of Independence to the world through the AP, and George Ashmore Fitch (USA), who endured great hardships to procure military funds for the Provisional Government, are also figures we must never forget.

From the defining perspective that a Korean must be someone who loves Korea, I can assert that these individuals, despite being foreigners, were truly and purely Korean.

The happiness we enjoy today is built upon the sweat and sacrifice of those who contributed from behind the scenes, and we must never forget that grace. Remembering their names is a way to reflect on the values and responsibilities we must uphold. And it provides the answer to the question of who is truly a Korean.

Even today, as I look at people like Kim Min-woong, brother of Prime Minister Kim Min-seok, who persists in anti-American activities, I think of the young Filipina bride who comes to look after her mother-in-law and prepares her lunch after she returns from an outing on a winter day. Kim Min-woong and the young Filipina bride; Sophia, who raises three children, and the "Gaettal" (zealous supporters) of the Democratic Party.

I remember the joy felt when all members of BTS volunteered for military service. Since then, cases of evading military service in the entertainment industry have disappeared. It is beautiful to see the attitude of fulfilling one's duty to the country as a Korean, as it reflects a heart that loves the nation and its people.

Moreover, the descendants of entrepreneurs, including Kim Dong-kwan of Hanwha, are following suit with their military enlistments. Now, with the enlistment of Lee Ji-ho, the fourth generation to carry on the Samsung lineage, I believe the youth of the Republic of Korea will become even more confident. It is a deeply reassuring sight that brings tears to my eyes.

Jeong Jae-hak Poet & Columnist