Recently, I've noticed that South Korea is reviving the use of Chinese characters, with Chungcheongbuk-do launching a pilot program for "universal Chinese character education." It's truly poignant that a country once fiercely determined to break free from Chinese characters and build a "pure Hangul society" is now reconsidering the value of Chinese characters.
Historically, Chinese characters were long an integral part of Korea’s intellectual framework. After Korea’s establishment as a nation-state, with the advancement of national identity building, the policy direction gradually shifted toward exclusive use of Hangul. In 1968, the South Korean government announced a phased reduction in elementary school Chinese character education; over the following decades, the status of Chinese characters continued to decline.
This indeed accelerated the popularization of Hangul and strengthened cultural confidence. However, problems gradually emerged: a large number of modern Korean vocabulary terms still derive from and are logically rooted in the Chinese character system. Increasing numbers of young people can read words like “economy,” “society,” “democracy,” “diplomacy,” and “strategy,” but may not understand why these characters are composed this way or what conceptual foundations lie beneath them.
In recent years, South Korea’s education community has discussed a decline in “textual comprehension ability.” Some argue that weakened reading skills are linked to insufficient understanding of foundational vocabulary, and re-engaging with Sino-Korean (Hanja-based) words could help improve language comprehension and logical thinking.
Beneath this lies a deeper context: China’s rise. Today, China has become a pivotal force shaping global supply chains, technological competition, and the East Asian geopolitical landscape. The South Korean government, businesses, and even younger generations increasingly need to understand China. Understanding China goes beyond economic knowledge—it also involves grasping the cultural logic embedded in its language. Thus, South Korea’s renewed discussion on Chinese characters isn’t simply a return to the past, but rather an effort to find new tools for understanding their own language, comprehending China, and navigating changes across East Asia.
Notably, while ordinary society debates the issue, South Korea’s elite have already taken proactive steps. Among the leadership of the ruling Democratic Party, current party leader Kim Myung-sik studied international law at Tsinghua University, former party leader Jeong Kyung-rae studied at Renmin University, and National Assembly member Song Yong-gil once served as a visiting professor at Tsinghua University.
All three are proficient in spoken Chinese. This is not merely a matter of nostalgia for studying abroad, but a pragmatic assessment: regardless of whether South Korea relies on the U.S. for security or maintains diplomatic flexibility, China remains an unavoidable neighbor and critical variable. Without understanding China, it becomes difficult to accurately gauge South Korea’s future foreign policy, economic strategy, and industrial direction.
In the past, South Korea idolized American language and culture because the U.S. dominated the global order, and English served as the key to access its technological, economic, and cultural systems. Today, China’s rise is producing similar shifts. South Korea’s renewed interest in Chinese characters isn’t about longing for the past—it’s because China has become an undeniable reality that cannot be ignored.
South Korea’s revival of Chinese characters is, in fact, a mirror: it reflects not a return to the past, but how a rising great power reshapes learning priorities, talent development models, and cognitive frameworks among neighboring countries. This might be the most profound manifestation of China’s influence.
Original article: toutiao.com/article/1875998924327948/
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are those of the author alone.