The Repressive Powers

The shadow of restrictive and oppressive government clouds more and more of our world. A century that opened with high hopes for global freedom and democracy is succumbing in its closing decades to ever increasing totalitarian controls. This trend has stark implications for both civilization and Christianity. In a time when benevolent powers are becoming notably scarce, fatigued societies turn eagerly to amorphous governments and willingly exchange freedom and self-reliance for comfort and security. For the Christian movement such a trend portends awesome political uncertainties, perhaps even the Endtime, when the powers of anti-Christ will answer to the Risen King.

Sino-Soviet Communism already dominates well over three-fifths of the world’s land mass and almost a third of the world’s population. In mainland China, Christianity survives underground. In Russia, after futile attempts to eradicate Christianity by persecution and discrimination, it is tolerated only if adherents qualifiedly accept an officially atheistic regime. America, the leading Free World power, is dedicated to political détente, while totalitarian atheism remains the most formidable barrier to freedom.

In Western democratic countries, government is less responsive to Christian influence than in earlier generations, and governmental encroachment on human freedoms deserves a watchful eye. In the United States, separation of church and state has become the framework for militating against reflection of the Christian world-life view in the public schoolrooms, for sanctioning abortion on demand, and for increasingly tolerating religion only as an inner private concern that is without public importance.

On the threshold of the Chinese Congress on World Evangelization in August, Hong Kong authorities, presumably encouraged by Britain’s socialist government, issued an ultimatum that threatened to cancel the affair if any public pronouncement were to be issued on the future evangelization of the Chinese mainland. Earlier, evangelist Billy Graham, at the opening of his Hong Kong crusade, was given only an abbreviated interview by the governor of Hong Kong; British politicians had reportedly cautioned the governor that Hong Kong, increasingly dependent on Red China’s favor, would have to choose between showing good will to Graham and not offending Chinese Communists.

Staggering American economic assistance and military reinforcement have gone both to Israel and to its overwhelmingly Muslim Arab neighbors on the premise that a stalemate in the Middle East would avoid what might otherwise erupt into a nuclear global confrontation. The Muslim nations have, in addition, accumulated vast petroleum dollar advantages. The one Christian nation caught amid Arab-Israeli tensions has been largely left to crumble between Palestinian liberationists, Lebanese Christians, and Syrian troops who for the moment are cast as peace preservers.

For all their significant evangelistic gains, Christians in Asia are increasingly dominated by restrictive totalitarian regimes—in India, Indonesia, South Korea, and the Philippines. A call for national security against the inroads of Communist totalitarian aggression is ironically made to justify a rival type of totalitarianism. The good will that Americans accumulated in Asia over much of the twentieth century is being eroded. Korea now represents the last American military presence on the Asian mainland, and American policy is becoming committed more and more publicly to a unified Korea and a unified China. The fate of Cambodia, Laos, and South Viet Nam has compromised the confidence of Asian countries in America as an ally except as national interest predominates.

In South Korea, where 15 per cent of the population is Christian (the largest Christian percentage on the Asian mainland), American interest can hardly be identified with democratic rule, for surely the Park regime has no such commitment. According to political realities, America’s interest lies rather in providing a buffer between the Asian mainland and Japan as an ally. The Korean people by and large do not know about Park Tong-Sun’s political bribery of American officials to curry support for the Park regime. If anything is reported publicly, political bribery will seem to involve American officials more culpably in an ethics of expedience than it does Korean benefactors who seemingly promote the security of a beleaguered country. If by way of righteous indignation American foreign policy curtails or puts an end to South Korean defense commitments, the end could only be worse than the beginning: North Korea’s aggression would be encouraged, and South Korea would turn to the oil-rich Arab nations for needed energy supplies. The fate of Christianity in Korea could be a hard one.

This observation in no way minimizes the repression and apparent corruption of the South Korean regime, although Americans, of course, are in no enviable position to speak piously about political morality. Extensive religious freedom functions in South Korea, although the Park regime has banned all criticism of itself under penalty of imprisonment and the Korean CIA has tightened military and ideological controls on faculties and student bodies of educational institutions. Both professors and pastors—including some born-again evangelicals—were imprisoned for protest activity. President Park’s rigid control of academic and religious leaders publicizes to the world that he lacks the full enthusiasm of those who ideologically ought to be most supportive.

One disconcerting government development has been a bloodthirsty hatred for Communists. (No plea for ideological softness toward Communism should be read into this comment.) Previous South Korean regimes have espoused both pahngong or everyday anti-Communism and seungong or victory over Communism. But emphasis today falls increasingly on mylgong, which means destroying or literally “beating the hell out of Communists.” As military influence permeates the academic arena, this vengeful spirit becomes even a school credo. Subway posters placard the killing of Communists. Korean Christians are understandably disturbed by this trend.

Not unlike many American politicians, President Park knows the Christian message and terminology; although he never made a personal commitment to Christ, he grew up in a Presbyterian church in Taegu. Park Tong-Sun has a devout Christian mother, but he too goes his own way. President Park’s children attended Catholic schools, although Mrs. Park—killed in an assassination attempt on her husband—was a Buddhist (the government has restored national Buddhist shrines in her memory). Park’s daughter is active in both religion and politics and ambivalently blends Christian commitment with political zeal.

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