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The recent controversy over dog meat reveals once more that emotional nationalistic rhetoric remains the prime mover in the domestic media's coverage of Korea's interaction with other countries. The statements and actions of a few animal rights activists in the West were reported as if the West had conspired to besmirch Korea before the whole world. As if to rally to the defense of the nation, patriotic Koreans set up Websites against the attackers and bombarded message boards with angry messages against "Western cultural imperialists."
To be sure, those who defend the custom of eating dog meat have logic on their side. Food culture varies widely around the globe, leaving no universal standard from which to determine what is acceptable for human beings to eat. Amid this wealth of culinary diversity in the world, to single out the custom of eating dog meat as barbaric is ludicrous.
Korea is not the only country where dogs are eaten, and other countries eat animals, such as horse, that Koreans would not. A tourist in Kyushu, the Japanese island closest to Korea, would find out, for example, that raw horsemeat is popular in Kumamoto and that raw chicken is popular in Kagoshima.
The problem with reporting on the dog meat controversy is that complaints about dog meat rarely make the headlines in the West because there is so much other news to report. Most people in West know little about Korea and care little about what Koreans eat. The animal rights activists are one of hundreds of special interest groups that focus on a single issue. They have a small group of loyal supporters who pay dues and provide foot soldiers for demonstrations and lobbying activities. Though the protests of animal rights make for splashy news photos, their activities move only tiny numbers of votes in Western countries.
The emotional nationalistic rhetoric in defense of dog meat, however, blows the issue out of proportion. Though most Koreans resent Western complaints over dog meat, they are hardly united in their views of the issue. Many Koreans, in fact, do not eat dog meat and are repulsed by the thought of doing so. When asked to name a "traditional Korean food," most Koreans would choose kimchi; few would choose dog meat. As a delicacy that supposedly promotes virility, dog meat is expensive and is consumed almost exclusively by men.
All of this attracts the attention of the Western media in Korea who end up reporting on the issue back home. Though some journalists in the West may report on activities of animal rights activists, these stories only make the news if they attract a large amount of public participation or stir political and diplomatic activities. If left alone, a dog-meat story would have little chance of making the news in an influential media source in the West.
The secret to dealing with Western criticism of dog meat is simply to ignore it. An emotional reaction only attracts the unnecessary attention of the Western media. The impact of reports on the dog meat controversy on the image of Korea is difficult to ascertain, but is probably negative. If so, why create a controversy about something that is potentially negative when little controversy would ensue if the issue were ignored? Time and again, the Korean media has failed to ask this question before whipping up emotional nationalistic feeling.
A more important question, of course, is does the image of Korea in the West matter? All nations want to be thought of in positive terms, but nations that want to become big players have to develop a thick skin to criticism. The more important a nation becomes, the more it gets watched, and the more it gets watched, the more it gets criticized.
Korea is well on its way (if it has not already done so) to becoming a big player. In every measurement of national importance, Korea ranks very high among the nearly 200 nation states in the world. In Asia, it ranks fourth after China, Japan, and India, in economic, political, and cultural influence. As the Olympics before it, the World Cup is part of a continuing effort to project Korea on the world stage as a big player. By offering to host such mega-events, Korea is projecting optimism and self-confidence.
The Korean media needs to grow up to the reality that Korea, as a big player to be, is being watched. The media has an obligation to inform the people of how Korea is perceived overseas, but it also has an obligation to provide context for understanding the perceptions.
Above all, Koreans need more optimism and greater self-confidence in dealing with criticism. A negative story in a major newspaper, the activities of an NGO, and a critical statement of a politician or academic are only one side of the story. As long as Korea is a big player, it will attract far more friends than enemies. For every foreigner who is offended by dog meat, there are many more who do not know or care about it. Taking criticism in stride, as other big players do, is far more productive in advancing the national interest than emotional tirades against the countries from which the critics originate.
The writer is an associate professor at Kagoshima University in Japan. His e-mail address is [email protected]lobe. ne.jp

To be sure, those who defend the custom of eating dog meat have logic on their side. Food culture varies widely around the globe, leaving no universal standard from which to determine what is acceptable for human beings to eat. Amid this wealth of culinary diversity in the world, to single out the custom of eating dog meat as barbaric is ludicrous.
Korea is not the only country where dogs are eaten, and other countries eat animals, such as horse, that Koreans would not. A tourist in Kyushu, the Japanese island closest to Korea, would find out, for example, that raw horsemeat is popular in Kumamoto and that raw chicken is popular in Kagoshima.
The problem with reporting on the dog meat controversy is that complaints about dog meat rarely make the headlines in the West because there is so much other news to report. Most people in West know little about Korea and care little about what Koreans eat. The animal rights activists are one of hundreds of special interest groups that focus on a single issue. They have a small group of loyal supporters who pay dues and provide foot soldiers for demonstrations and lobbying activities. Though the protests of animal rights make for splashy news photos, their activities move only tiny numbers of votes in Western countries.
The emotional nationalistic rhetoric in defense of dog meat, however, blows the issue out of proportion. Though most Koreans resent Western complaints over dog meat, they are hardly united in their views of the issue. Many Koreans, in fact, do not eat dog meat and are repulsed by the thought of doing so. When asked to name a "traditional Korean food," most Koreans would choose kimchi; few would choose dog meat. As a delicacy that supposedly promotes virility, dog meat is expensive and is consumed almost exclusively by men.
All of this attracts the attention of the Western media in Korea who end up reporting on the issue back home. Though some journalists in the West may report on activities of animal rights activists, these stories only make the news if they attract a large amount of public participation or stir political and diplomatic activities. If left alone, a dog-meat story would have little chance of making the news in an influential media source in the West.
The secret to dealing with Western criticism of dog meat is simply to ignore it. An emotional reaction only attracts the unnecessary attention of the Western media. The impact of reports on the dog meat controversy on the image of Korea is difficult to ascertain, but is probably negative. If so, why create a controversy about something that is potentially negative when little controversy would ensue if the issue were ignored? Time and again, the Korean media has failed to ask this question before whipping up emotional nationalistic feeling.
A more important question, of course, is does the image of Korea in the West matter? All nations want to be thought of in positive terms, but nations that want to become big players have to develop a thick skin to criticism. The more important a nation becomes, the more it gets watched, and the more it gets watched, the more it gets criticized.
Korea is well on its way (if it has not already done so) to becoming a big player. In every measurement of national importance, Korea ranks very high among the nearly 200 nation states in the world. In Asia, it ranks fourth after China, Japan, and India, in economic, political, and cultural influence. As the Olympics before it, the World Cup is part of a continuing effort to project Korea on the world stage as a big player. By offering to host such mega-events, Korea is projecting optimism and self-confidence.
The Korean media needs to grow up to the reality that Korea, as a big player to be, is being watched. The media has an obligation to inform the people of how Korea is perceived overseas, but it also has an obligation to provide context for understanding the perceptions.
Above all, Koreans need more optimism and greater self-confidence in dealing with criticism. A negative story in a major newspaper, the activities of an NGO, and a critical statement of a politician or academic are only one side of the story. As long as Korea is a big player, it will attract far more friends than enemies. For every foreigner who is offended by dog meat, there are many more who do not know or care about it. Taking criticism in stride, as other big players do, is far more productive in advancing the national interest than emotional tirades against the countries from which the critics originate.
The writer is an associate professor at Kagoshima University in Japan. His e-mail address is [email protected]lobe. ne.jp

