Secret Society #3: Unwitting Eyes in 1920
1920. Spy networks, so-called British agents, were operating across the Korean Empire, meticulously gathering intelligence and shipping it back home. Contrary to public suspicion that the British government had issued them secret directives, these people had no idea they were spies. They had come to the Empire as businessmen, researchers, or tourists—each having "won" some kind of event or contest. Following the instructions from those events, they naturally documented daily life in the Empire through photos and notebooks before returning home.
The real spies, fully aware of their roles, mainly listened to these unwitting informants' stories. They copied down the notebooks, duplicated the photos, and cross-verified the information. It was only natural, really. Westerners stood out too much. Considering how valuable elite spies were, no one would carelessly send in the "blacksheep" to such a place. They'd be under surveillance from the start. Both genuine tourists and spy-tourists had behavioral tells, so tourists heading to the Empire had to be real ones. That way, they could gather intel even under watch. Just like those Westerners sending missionaries to cannibal-infested islands, they sent missionaries to the Empire too.
And these unwitting agents reported back on how this once desperately poor Korea had developed—and how it was developing—with their own interpretations. The Korean Empire was astonishing in so many ways. What struck them especially, stirring fresh emotions, wasn't the Empire's red flavor but its black flavor. Having a bit of red flavor themselves, they barely reacted to that, but the black flavor left them stunned.
Something sensational and trendy. True to their British nature, they saw the red as innate to humanity, but the black as a force transcending it.
"They start school at age five and serve as members of youth military organizations?"
From age five, they were separated from their parents, gaining awareness as collective members.
"The kids all wore uniforms like public officials—excellent quality too."
Through those uniforms, they identified as national components.
"I saw what looked like a corpse at school, but it was a student. They get ten years of basic education, then another ten years of advanced education."
"Advanced education?"
"They called it a sort of doctoral program. Not sure what that means."
They learned, mastered skills, and projected their abilities for society and community. In the current Western world, where communities were shattered by war and communism, this black flavor was fascinating. Rural communities fighting for survival couldn't help but take interest. The militaristic vibe was tolerable amid wartime—it was even a reason for national support.
In the end, these researchers concluded the Empire's rapid development stemmed from nationally organized communalism. It didn't quite fit as a simple one-party communist state. To them, the Koreans showed little interest in the communist call for world revolution. No matter the angle, they seemed to value their individual lives over revolution. Within organized communities, they enjoyed prosperity. Social classes existed, but without exploitation.
Yet despite reports of no "red alert" from these spies, the alarm bells ringing toward the Empire didn't quiet easily. The decapitation operations had rung alarms in leaders' minds worldwide, revolution or not. No one believed the sinister Koreans prepared them just to dismantle Austria-Hungary. They were convinced the ultimate targets were London or Washington. The moment war broke out, those units would head straight for their capitals.
So they began crafting countermeasures. Their own threats mattered, but they needed the capability to do the same. They decided to pay more attention to the Empire. Those knife skills were excessively dangerous. Britain felt this acutely—the things Koreans were doing in British colonies showed a disturbing coherence from London's view. Especially in Arabia, Britain's future breadbasket, the Korean influence and its growth exceeded imagination.
The lines at Korean water tanks grew daily. Now, Koreans even lent trucks runnable in desert dawns, drawing massive queues as nomads clamored to rent them. Small and light, with multiple wheels, AC, and sunshades—essentials for camel-riding nomads dodging dung smells.
Load up oil drums, return, and Koreans took them, providing full water tanks in exchange. Renting a truck that day meant earning dozens of times more. Naturally, lines formed at dawn. Sons stood in for fathers. Trucks were increasing, but not enough.
Recently, Koreans had escalated beyond orchards to large-scale farmland. Wary of Britain in Arabia proper, they started farming openly in truce Oman and Iraq. Iraq's desertification made locals feel like Babylon reborn—green expanses suddenly appearing beyond dunes, as if hanging gardens would emerge next. Giant rotary sprinklers circling in the desert heart were cutting-edge, saving water dramatically despite electricity use. This shocked locals and power brokers, welcoming Koreans as honored guests. To them, Koreans were true Eastern sages.
And these guests obsessed over hospitality. Bowing toward Mecca alongside them. Locals were baffled that non-believers from Korea bowed too—assuming faith. But even infidels were guests, showing respect to Allah. Allah was inclusive, after all. Above all, Koreans knew guest etiquette. They nodded eagerly to joining local farming.
No state involved, just agreements between parties. Koreans provided water, electricity, techniques; Arabs land and labor. The desert and its "sand niggers" overflowed anyway—no need for partnerships. But the Supreme Leader mandated recruiting local collaborators before overseas investments. "Recommendation" meant "do it."
Thus, partnering with local elites and tribes, farming exploded—free labor everywhere. But Koreans didn't stop. Unlike tribes planting wheat for food, they sowed sunflowers and cotton. Arabs shrugged at cotton, but those giant flowers' seeds and oil exceeded imagination. The perfumes too.
While Arabs thought tomorrow's wheat and bread, Korean citizens thought industry. Primitive natives vs. industrialized citizens—worldviews differed fundamentally.
Seeing precious perfumes bottled in crystal flooding the Arab world, locals felt inferior. "Infidels mass-produce what we cherish—what are we doing?" They wanted in. Cheap now, but long-term, Koreans would rake profits.
Problem: Koreans agreed to joint farming, shared sunflower seeds, but not factories. No tours even. Jam and canning plants yes, but oil, perfume, crystal glass—no. Couldn't.
Obvious—they were high-tech, Korea's lifelines. Leader pondered ten times before approving; considered denying. But "produce and consume in Arab lands—why ship to Korea and resell?" Pure British idiocy. So factories locally.
Perfume scents originated mostly Arab anyway—better quality there. Even oil: press on-site to avoid rancidity. Crystal from Korea? Local glass too cheap, but breakage rates killed economics. Thick canning glass tolerable, but delicate perfume vials? No. Build local.
Sell cheap? Even more reason. Give away? They'd demand more. Refuse? "You take profits but no investment!" Jam plants given, now they want those too. Humans think flattery means superiority—pure luck.
I had no intention of yielding. So I built those factories on the coast—made islands from bedrock, smashing nearby foundations. Assembled massive ships unloading pre-fab factories, slamming them seaside. No Arab involvement in construction—tech leak fears. No state patents in Korea; self-guard tech strictly. No exceptions.
Iraqi Arabs unsatisfied with giant canning/jam plants. Initially content, but seeing tiny operational factories changed minds. Packaging vs. value-add—former easy money, latter real wealth from thin air. Producing Arab essentials. Must integrate into Arab life.
Koreans unwilling. No access channels—state minimal, just conferences. No idea where to inquire for factory entry. Opposite of Koreans touring farms for partnerships. Access blocked. They fumed. Explain reasons? Nothing.
Of course, talks would end in "include factories in Arab society." Korean silence added tension. Come to dialogue table. But their "dialogue" meant "I'm right, yield."
Reason for no table: just demands to concede. Arabs wanted concessions via talk, not talk itself. Typical—99% "I want X, so yield." Blaming "incommunicado" shifts responsibility: "You won't talk because talks fail."
Absurd—concession is demand, not yield. Victim of demand becomes villain for refusing. They exit: "No sincerity!" Call superiors. Top dog summons big guns—politicians spooning in.
"Incommunicado"—laughable. Dialogue mutual; no obligation. Joseon stonewalled Japan till ships came. Everyone does. Self-serving ears only. Western masses think public figures only, but in Korea, all public—everyone accountable for words/actions. Public.
Comrades face self-criticism next morning. Public. Proletariat centered, accountable. Public troublemakers? Banned forever from public spaces. Act via proxies, bear consequences.
Thus, Korea yielded nothing internally/externally. Never that type; world doesn't demand it. No one yields. India: Himalayan salt taxed, resold. Average.
Korea, over-yielding amid that, bewildered. Once giving freely, now suffering "B-side bullying" from Britain—not A-side seizure. They grab vs. Korea offering.
Human greed endless; societies infinite. That noble sunlit perfume stirred Arab avarice. Britain's Arab agitators, used to gut-response B-bullying, watched how Korea scored in this.
As Korean influence grew in Arab society, the Empire faced the test.