You've Opened Your Eyes—Join the Republican League
The Emperor's remark—that if writings insulting the imperial house gained popularity, it simply meant the imperial house had lost the Mandate of Heaven, and so he would not concern himself—became a talking point not only online but in the real world as well.
At the Daehan Broadcasting Corporation, the flagship network of the pro-imperial, pro-conservative media, analysts were dissecting the interview.
"A wide range of interpretations has been offered from every corner of society regarding His Majesty the Emperor's recent and highly publicized interview. Professor Lee, may we ask for your thoughts on the content of that interview?"
"There's no denying that His Majesty's remarks were unconventional. But we need to examine their essence."
"Their essence?"
"His Majesty's statement should be understood as a reaffirmation of the existing legal order. The Empire's constitution guarantees freedom of the press, and even if someone were to write something that mocks the imperial house, the constitutional value of press freedom still holds. That is the meaning."
"I see. And what of his remarks concerning the Mandate of Heaven?"
"That, too, demonstrates the firm public support for the imperial house. His Majesty framed it as a hypothesis—if writings of a seditious nature were to gain popularity.
But are any such writings actually in fashion in Korea today?
Even the novel at the center of this controversy was never an insult to the imperial house; it was purely the story of fictional characters. If anything, this affair has only reconfirmed the solid foundation of support for the imperial house."
"Thank you. Those are excellent points."
Conservative outlets, though startled by the Emperor's bold approach, strained to frame his intent through a traditional lens—and the material was there for them to do so.
The Emperor's unpolished manner of speech could be chalked up to his upbringing as a collateral royal raised outside the palace, while his defense of constitutional values was precisely the sort of conduct befitting a monarch of the Korean Empire, a constitutional monarchy.
It was far preferable to any association with extremist imperialists calling for a return to absolute monarchy.
The only regret was the Emperor's lack of refinement.
There had been far more elegant ways to handle this affair than a solo interview with His Majesty himself.
A pro-imperial outlet could have set the table in advance, after which the Imperial Household Agency might have casually released a statement of the Emperor's views, "taking public opinion into account," and that would have been the end of it.
In that respect, the present situation was somewhat unfortunate. Had the Emperor misspoken even slightly, or had the Hansung Daily put a malicious spin on its questions, the crisis could easily have deepened the fracture in national consensus.
Of course, one also had to factor in that lines of communication within the palace had been effectively severed since the "airplane tragedy."
Still, once the right personnel were in place, time passed, and the Emperor gained experience, there would be no problem.
Liberal-leaning media, by contrast, hailed the Emperor's remarks as "revolutionary."
"If we look comprehensively at His Majesty's latest statements, the Jade Pavilion incident, and even the writings from his years in private life, I believe His Majesty holds a worldview distinctly different from that of previous members of the imperial house."
"A different worldview, you say..."
"Unlike ordinary members of the imperial family, who grow up in the conservative environment of the palace and inevitably associate with pro-imperial figures, His Majesty is known to have spent his childhood among ordinary people, is he not?"
"Yes. According to what is known so far, he attended private school only for high school; before that, he went to public schools."
"Exactly. Having never received an education as an emperor, his perspective is the same as that of the general public."
"I see."
"It may be an impertinent way of putting it, but one could say it's no different from one of us common folk ascending the throne... and that should be viewed as a positive development."
"Positive?"
"Have the imperial house and the public ever been this close in the past few centuries? The people take reverence for the imperial house as a matter of course, but it has been a long time since the imperial house itself grew reluctant to step before the people.
The growth of republican sentiment is precisely because the imperial house has become isolated from the public.
But think about what has happened over the past few months. The official apology regarding the minority ethnic issue.
Frankly, everyone knows the real reason the imperial house never issued an official apology on that matter before was fear that its authority might be shaken.
And yet when His Majesty personally shed tears and offered his apology—what was the response? The majority of the people saw that and their favorability toward the imperial house actually rose.
That is how great the distance between the imperial house and the people had become. They simply didn't know what the people liked, or what they wanted from the imperial house.
As a pro-imperial liberal myself, I cannot help but admire His Majesty's unconventional course. I even find myself hoping that this may be the form of imperial house suited to our age."
Meanwhile, within the Korean Republican League Party—a gathering of people of every stripe and ideology—debate also turned on how to assess the Emperor.
"This Emperor may project a liberal air in his thinking, but given that our party advocates a republic, we can hardly endorse him, can we?"
"Looking at this interview—he said that if anti-imperial sentiment spread widely throughout the nation, it would mean the Mandate of Heaven had been lost. In a way, isn't that not so different from our own position?"
"What kind of nonsense is that? The reverse of that statement is that unless the entire nation turns against them, the imperial house will hold its ground without budging. You've gone soft."
"What did you just say?"
"No matter how much talk there is of this Emperor being weak-willed, or a scholar, he's still of the Jeonju Yi clan. A man raised on an imperial pension is hardly going to renounce the imperial house."
"But even looking at the papers he wrote before ascending the throne, you can see his views differ from the imperial house's basic line."
"Spouting progressive talk of that sort is something you do when you never imagine you'll actually take the throne. When the seat changes, the man changes.
Do I really have to explain even this much? Tsk. That's why you've never managed to win a single district and are still stuck as a party member."
"What? Are you finished talking?"
"Enough! That is enough!"
Just as the party office threatened to erupt, a man's shout restored silence.
"Hah... What do we accomplish by fighting among ourselves? We're a party with single-digit seats as it is. From the start, we shouldn't be arguing over the Emperor—we should be focusing on someone else."
"Someone else? Who?"
"The novelist who sparked this controversy. We need to find Lee Myeongbok. That man is the one we republicans should be concentrating on. Has anyone here actually read the novel?"
"...It's just a web novel, isn't it? Not political commentary."
"I read it, but the author just seemed like someone with a good imagination. I didn't get the sense he held any particular ideology."
"On the surface, yes. But when you put the content together, a clear current emerges. The royal authority is continually shown in a state of collapse. When Koreans are asked to name historical figures they revere, who always comes up?"
"Well... people like Emperor Mujong, Emperor Jangjo, Yi Sun-sin—those sorts."
"And what happens to those figures in this novel? Mujong is deposed. Jangjo is replaced by a character named Seonjo, who proves skilled at politics but inadequate as a monarch.
And the figure at the center of the latest controversy, Yeongjo, is shown committing the inhuman act of locking his own son in a rice chest and leaving him to die. Do you understand what that means?
The author is using the guise of 'alternate history' to show just how unstable monarchy can be—and that it is a misfortune even for the monarchs themselves.
In other words, this work is a warning to readers of what follows when a monarch makes the wrong choice. Our Korean Empire has been fortunate enough that its monarchs avoided the wrong answers and chose something close to the right ones—but this is what happens when they step on the wrong ones."
"Hmm... is that really what it is?"
"I agree the author's craft is not bad, but... aren't you overestimating him?"
"And even if that's so, what do we gain by contacting such a person? In this whole affair, he just kept quietly writing under a pen name, didn't he?"
"He may look unflappable, but his writing has shaken the entire country. Right now the author is one of two things: afraid, or exhilarated. Either state works for us.
Simply letting him know that people who share his thinking exist and support him will be a help. And eventually, he will step out from behind the anonymity."
"And whatever happens, the odds are high that he'll share our cause. That's the idea."
"If we can bring someone with the talent to shake a nation with his pen over to our side, wouldn't that alone be enough?"
After that, mysterious emails began arriving for "Author Lee Myeongbok," dressed up as fan letters, urging him to join the Republican League.
"Hmm... better mark this as spam."
I'm grateful for the five-thousand-character review, but why do they keep stuffing membership links in there?