Black Flower

by Kim, Young-ha

  They left the camp before the day grew light. Their steps were even more cautious at the thought that the Mayans might execute them if they were caught, in accordance with the contract. And so the two leaders who had dragged everyone into the jungle headed north that night and ran for their lives.

  It was as if some fate were slowly approaching Ijeong with a wide grin. Come on, come. Ijeong sucked forcefully on a cigarette. The anger of those left behind was tremendous. “We thought they were our leaders, and look what they’ve gotten us into!” someone shouted. “Let us pursue them now and shoot them dead!” But no one was as shocked and bitter as Ijeong. After Villa had been routed, the reason he had returned to Mérida, and the reason he had gotten involved in all this, was Jo Jangyun.

  Nevertheless, Ijeong calmly appeased them. “I will be responsible for the contract with the Mayans. It might be upsetting that they left, but maybe it’s better this way. Now, if we get the three million dollars, it will all be ours. Forget the political games of the esteemed men of the Mérida branch office or the Korean National Association. That money belongs to the forty of us left here. Those who survive will get everything.” They all nodded. Ijeong said, “If you agree to this, let us make our thumbprints. And from now on, traitors will be punished. Only then will we all be able to get back alive.” They fell over themselves to sign their names on a piece of white paper and make their thumbprints. Then Ijeong drew blood from his finger and wrote “Deserters will be killed” at the bottom.

  Despite this fervent declaration, that night more men attempted to escape. Ijeong heard the sentry yell, got out of bed, picked up his gun, and ran into the jungle. There were two deserters; it was difficult to get through the jungle alone. After a chase, the two were caught and dragged back to camp. One of those caught was Jo Jangyun’s comrade Seo Gijung. The other was eighteen-year-old Bak Beomseok. Seo Gijung looked at Ijeong and laughed obsequiously. “We weren’t running away. We were going to come back.” As for Bak Beomseok, he was trembling like a leaf. Tears and mucus ran together as he knelt down and hung his head to the ground.

  Ijeong took from his pocket the document covered with red thumbprints and showed it to the two of them. Then he marched them to a reservoir near the pyramids. There were a lot of bogs before the reservoir. Up until then, many of the Koreans had thought he was just bluffing, to raise morale. But Ijeong aimed directly at the back of Seo Gijung’s head and fired his pistol. Seo Gijung, who had sensed his death and struggled at the last moment, dropped with one shot. Eighteen-year-old Bak Beomseok met the same fate. But he was more composed than Seo Gijung. With no Buddhist temple nearby, he left only these words and then closed his eyes: “I pray only that my karma will end here.” This time as well, Ijeong mercilessly pulled the trigger.

  From that day on, there were no more deserters. The only way out would be to kill Ijeong first. Battles were infrequent. The government troops withdrew to the southern highlands before a pincer attack by the guerrillas. Under the command of the Mayan officers, Ijeong’s men ambushed the retreating troops and won a small victory.

  Three months went by. Tranquil days passed without casualties, with the exception of a twenty-year-old man who died of fever. Ijeong sat at the top of one of two small, twin pyramids, deep in thought. Perhaps Jo Jangyun’s scheme had not been absurd after all. Was Pancho Villa so special? He beat a foreman to death and became a bandit, then took advantage of a period of revolution to become a general, and in the end triumphantly entered Mexico City. Of course, Obregón drove him off, but even Obregón had been a typical greenhorn at first. And yet was not Guatemala in a far more severe state of anarchy than Mexico? Given the situation, founding a nation would not be so difficult. The Mayans could have their nation and we could have our own small but powerful nation, centered here at Tikal, where we could be self-sufficient. We are outsiders anyway. There is no possibility that we could ever grow like Obregón.

  During the next battle, Ijeong indirectly presented his scheme to a Mayan revolutionary commander. “If Cabrera is ousted, you will drive out the white people and start your own nation, no?” The commander said that they would. “Then you too will go to Antigua or Guatemala City, those hospitable highlands, the land of eternal spring?” Again he said that they would. “Then there would be no problem if we founded a small nation around Tikal?” He laughed heartily and said that the Koreans could found a slightly bigger nation if they wanted. He mentioned Belize, to the north, and said that it was a country brought into being by black slaves from Africa. “Similar to your plight, yes?” Ijeong said, “This is very important to us, as our nation across the Pacific Ocean has disappeared.” The revolutionary commander nodded as if it were of little importance. Ijeong could see in his face that he wondered what a few dozen people could possibly do.

  Then the commander sternly appended a condition: “Except that Tikal will not do. You can stay here for a while in order to help us. But this place is holy ground. By Lake Petén Itzá to the south or in the jungle regions farther north is fine, but not Tikal.”

  When he returned, Ijeong gathered the remaining soldiers and told them of his plan. There were those who opposed it. Of course there were those who laughed at it as well. No one readily agreed with Ijeong’s idea.

  “We are nothing more than mercenaries. If their revolution succeeds, we will simply get our money and go back.” “Go back? To where? Do we have someplace to go back to?” “Whatever the case, we can’t live in this jungle.” “Why not? Here there are no hacendados and no governors, only us and the Mayans.” “The Mayans may need us now, but if the revolution succeeds, they will chase us out. This land is sacred to them.” “It doesn’t have to be here. There are lots of good places in the north of Guatemala.” “Fine, let’s say there are. What does it matter if we have a nation or not?”

  Ijeong appeared to think for a moment. Then he grinned. “If it doesn’t matter whether we have a nation or not, then does that mean we can have one? If that’s true, then we can make a nation, can’t we?”

  A brief silence fell. “We may all die tomorrow. Is there anyone here who wants to die as a cursed Japanese or Chinese? I don’t,” Ijeong said. “Then wouldn’t it be better to have no nationality?” Dolseok asked. Ijeong shook his head. “The dead cannot choose to have no nation. We will all die as the citizens of a nation. We need our own country. Even if we cannot die as citizens of the country we created, at least we can avoid dying as Japanese or Chinese. We need a country in order to have no nationality.”

  Ijeong’s logic was difficult to grasp. In any case, it was not his logic that convinced them; it was his passion. And that passion was a curious thing. It was not a passion to become something, but a passion to not become something.

  And one month later, they founded the smallest nation in history in the temple square of Tikal. The name of the nation was New Korea. The only nation names they knew were Korea and Joseon, so they didn’t have much choice. The Mayan revolutionary commander sent them a bull as a present. Ijeong sent him his thanks and reassured him that they might have begun here, but they planned to move south to Lake Petén Itzá soon. As a shaman, Bak Gwangsu quietly and humbly performed the sacrifice to celebrate the birth of a new nation, and Kim Okseon went up to the highest place and played his flute. When the ritual ended, Ijeong spoke. “This country is a new country with no division between noble and common, high and low. Now, in this place, we are responsible for its fate. Let us tell Mexico and Korea, letting them join in the establishment of this new country.” But almost no one took this declaration of the founding of New Korea seriously.

  Their country survived for over a year in the jungle of Tikal. New Korea prohibited desertion and thievery first of all. A month later, some of the soldiers married Mayan maidens. Their country then prohibited child marriage and the keeping of concubines. As time went on, intermarriage with the Mayans increased. The Mayan guerrillas paid them no mind. The wedding ceremonies were a compromise between the Mayan style and the Kor
ean style. Two days before the wedding, the groom would ride a horse to the Mayan village and perform a wedding ceremony in their fashion. They slathered mud on the groom’s head and sang songs. They sometimes pretended to seriously threaten to kill the groom, and at other times they fed him a strange potion that made him hallucinate. Yet when the day of the wedding came, they congratulated the bride and groom and sent them off to Tikal with the playing of drums. When the bride arrived in Tikal, they performed a simple wedding ceremony in the Korean style. There was no splendid bridal headpiece or rooster with its legs bound; instead, the couple bowed to each other, shared a cup of liquor, went into the new paja prepared for them, and spent their first night together.

  Dolseok found a partner. She was a sixteen-year-old girl who had lost both her parents to the government troops. The couple could not communicate with each other, but they looked happy. Once they went to bed, the sound of ecstatic moaning was heard outside until morning. There were no secrets in the pajas.

  Ijeong did not seek a partner. There were those who said that he was trying to set an example, but Ijeong generally spent his time patrolling the area and thinking about places where they could strike out and places where they could draw back. Along with a Mayan guide who could speak Spanish, Ijeong traveled around Tikal, realizing for the first time that this was no ordinary place. The guide said, “This is sacred ground. Look.” Stone tombs could be seen wherever he pointed. He grabbed a vine and pulled. At that, a pile of earth crumbled to reveal a stone building. According to the guide, around 700A.D. a new king, Ah Cacau, appeared. This strong ruler, whose name meant Lord Cocoa, began to build great stone structures here. He was buried in what is called Temple I. Until the year 900, when the Mayan Empire in the area began to collapse for unknown reasons, Tikal enjoyed an age of prosperity. But long before that, countless new arrivals founded kingdoms in Tikal. This happened repeatedly, beginning around 700 B.C., and it was said that the population reached 100,000 by the sixth century A.D. Those in power immediately recognized Tikal’s strategic value, even though it was covered by the jungle.

  Like the two humps of a camel, the tall Temple I and Temple II stood facing each other; if an army could occupy them first, the enemy would be hard-pressed to pass between them. And around them were many hills, buried ruins that were useful for ambushes and retreats. Past Temple I and Temple II there was a small reservoir on the left, and farther along, Temple III formed yet another steep hill, functioning as a defensive line. If the guerrillas could not repel the enemy there, they could retreat to Temple IV, some six hundred feet away, make their last stand there, and then flee along a narrow path that ran to the northeast.

  The reign of the mini-nation of New Korea was unexpectedly long. President Cabrera had his hands full dealing with the problems cropping up near the capital and had no time to pay attention to the northern jungle. Ijeong chose people to be in charge of the supply of goods and to enforce the law. He could lead battles, so he did not appoint anyone else for that. The tranquil days continued. The new year came. The Mayans and the New Koreans had a tug of war in the village square with a rope of twisted henequen fibers. At first Ijeong and his people won, but at the end the Mayans won. They held a festival and enjoyed the days. They even played a mock cavalry battle. Three men formed the horse, one rode on top, and two teams fought against each other. Ijeong and his people won at this. The women divided into sides and cheered on the men. They played the Korean yut game using people as playing pieces, and they also held Mayan-style wrestling matches.

  Mario said that the Mayan-mestizo joint revolutionary army in the central region was now threatening the capital. He was glad, saying that the moment of Cabrera’s fate was at hand. The government troops who had taken up positions around Lake Petén Itzá were building high wooden barricades, devoting their energies to defense. For the time being, there seemed to be little chance of fierce fighting breaking out. Ijeong asked Mario, “Why are we not advancing south? Isn’t that why you hired us?” Mario said, “This is our last base of operations, so we can’t leave Tikal empty. And because this place is sacred ground, if we do not defend it, the Mayans will collapse.”

  One night, after much thought, Ijeong wrote a letter to Bak Jeonghun in Veracruz. “Myself and a few dozen of our people are now at Tikal in Guatemala. We have founded a small country here. It is called New Korea. Here in the jungle, local produce abounds and we lack nothing. It is hotter than the Yucatán, but it rains a lot. Here, no one exploits anyone else. We sleep with guns in our arms, but our hearts are at ease. Please convey this message to your wife. That I am well. And that I am healthy. And that I wish with all my heart that she will always live happily with you. Please tell her this.”

  He addressed the envelope but did not mail it. Yet when he left his hut the next day to meet with Mario, the person who had been placed in charge of collecting and sending the mail inadvertently picked up his letter and sent it along with a Mayan mule train that was leaving for Campeche. Ijeong returned and discovered that the letter had been sent, but he was not too upset about it. Even if Yeonsu read it, she would not come here, nor would she abandon Bak Jeonghun and her child.

  He also wrote a letter to Yoshida at the Japanese embassy. “Please convey this letter to the ambassador. The Korean people have not had a nation since Japan forcibly occupied the Korean Empire, but in September 1916, in Tikal, Guatemala, on the other side of the world, we finally founded a new nation. Please inform your nation of this. We expect that you will recognize our small country, just as you recognized the revolutionary government of Mexico.”

  Ijeong showed the letter to all who could read. Then he read it aloud. Two letters, one in Korean and one in Chinese, were sent to Mexico with the mules. But Ijeong was subdued. He had not sent the letter because he really desired international recognition. Rather, it was because he knew all too well that it would be difficult for this nation to last long. Just as Bak Gwangsu had said, this hot and humid jungle, like a blast furnace, would melt everything in the end. People, contracts, races, nations, even sadness and rage. Thus Ijeong believed that there needed to be an official record of what they did in the jungle, if only for a short time. Japan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs was the most suited to this task. They would have to take an interest in the ghost of the nation they had annexed.

  Another half year passed. President Estrada Cabrera, who had easily defended his government from attacks by demonstrators and revolutionaries, was now determined to wipe out the Mayan guerrillas who were active in the northern lowland jungle. The United States supported his decision and provided capital and weapons. Tens of thousands of punitive troops assembled south of Lake Petén Itzá. The government troops divided into three brigades and began an operation to mop up the guerrillas in the jungle as one would catch fish in a well with a net.

  Of course, the Mayan revolutionaries knew of every movement of Cabrera’s troops; they had informants scattered around the jungle. But even though they had detailed information, there was nothing they could do in the face of a massive army. A few revolutionary units launched sporadic surprise attacks on government troop camps, but the troops returned fire with machine guns. A few days later, as soon as the sun rose, the army’s attack began. The guerrillas resisted here and there, but they could not withstand the assault and continued to retreat before Cabrera’s forces, which captured one region after another like falling dominoes. Ijeong’s men agonized over whether to abandon Tikal or to stand and fight against the government there. But at the last moment, Ijeong decided to retreat. “We head north.” Mario’s Mayan troops were also retreating in that direction. Ijeong’s squad had hesitated, and now it was too late; even their Mayan guide had followed his own tribe in retreat. Ijeong set fire to the camp and fled north. But the government troops already held the north.

  To the east, then. A government battalion followed close behind Ijeong’s troops as they changed direction. Ijeong ordered a few of his men to lie in ambush and continued his retr
eat, but the ambushers did not wait for the enemy to draw close and hastily rejoined the ranks. It became clear once more that they were a ragged rabble. There were only about a dozen or so trustworthy soldiers. After their escape had been cut off several times and they had lost three men, Ijeong returned to Tikal’s Temple I, where they had started. After leaving a few men in ambush in an unexpected place to distract the government troops, he remained at Temple I with twenty of his men and positioned the rest at Temple II, planning to ambush the troops as they passed between them. Ijeong lost two more men in the process.

  When the Guatemalan forces heard gunfire from the small twin pyramids near the central square, they suspected an ambush and headed for Temple I. They speedily climbed Temple I and Temple II, intending to occupy favorable positions before the guerrillas did. But the Koreans were already entrenched there. Ijeong waited until the last moment, when the enemy was nearly at the summit, and then all opened fire at once. The temples, which had been built at a steep angle to exalt the glory of the gods, were slippery now that they were covered with earth. Most of the government troops fell to the bullets that poured from the heavens, and the rest of them moved hastily to avoid the gunfire and tumbled back down, injuring themselves. The guerrillas scored a similar victory at Temple II. The government troops retreated to the area around the temple square and re-formed their lines. Ijeong took eight men and pursued them, showing them that they still had the will to fight. At that, the frightened troops dropped their ammunition and supplies and withdrew to the outskirts of Tikal.