A court challenge to South
Korea’s Special Law on Sex Trade brings the debate over prostitution out in the
open.
Prostitution is a
politically and socially contentious issue just about anywhere. But it is
especially contentious in South Korea. Seldom a popular topic, the ongoing
effort by South Korean sex workers to have the Special Law on Sex Trade repealed creates an opportunity to
direct the discourse towards this contentious issue.
Though
primarily a domestic service, the history of selling sex in South Korea is also
a matter of security and alliances; it is hard to consider one without the
other. It is inextricably linked to Korea’s neo-colonial relationship with the
United States. And while work published in conservative and U.S.-centric
“security studies” is not likely to consider it, prostitution in South Korea is
as securitized as is trade. Several contemporary Koreanists writing in English
have highlighted the instrumentalization of sex work for purposes of security,
development, and empire.
Katherine
Moon’s Sex Among Allies: Military
Prostitution in U.S.-Korea Relations was one of the first to
explore the way in which female sex workers were regulated, educated, and
instrumentalized as ambassadors for the nation. The early 1970s were
contentious times for U.S.-South Korea relations. With racial tensions between
Koreans and Americans (especially African-Americans) running high and venereal
diseases spreading, both governments sought cooperation on how best to “clean
up” the problem. The solution was close(r) regulation (including VD check-ups)
and better education. Sex workers were taught the values of tolerance and
racial equality and expected to participate as ground-level diplomats for South
Korea.
Moon
Seungsook, following on the work by Katherine Moon, contributed to the
literature on regulated military prostitution in Over There: Living with the
U.S. Military Empire from World War Two to the Present. She
shows that the industry and institution of sex work in South Korea was an
essential component of the American empire and a mechanism by which Korean
elites could accentuate and maintain clear class boundaries at the expense of
lower class women (i.e., those most likely to be sex workers). Indeed, as both
authors emphasize, sex workers have always been comprised of the country’s down
and out – women who, for educational, financial, and social reasons, were
unable to find alternative work.
Most
recently, Jin-kyung Lee, in Service Economies:
Militarism, Sex Work, and Migrant Labor in South Korea,
challenges the triumphant “rise” narrative,
arguing that it overshadows or erases altogether the less desirable but still
essential elements of Korea’s development. Chief among these less desirable
elements is sexualized service labor for domestic clientele and U.S. soldiers.
Today an
increasing number of sex workers who continue to service U.S. military
personnel in South Korea are migrant workers from other Asian countries – Lee
writes that 90 percent are either Filipino or Russian, according to 2005
statistics. And while Korean sex workers form South Korea’s early developmental
years demand restitution
from the state, sex workers who serve domestic clientele are demanding legal
recognition for their work – or at least the decriminalization of it.
Upon petition, the
Constitutional Court began hearings last week to decide on the
constitutionality of the Special Law on Sex Trade. The law, enacted in 2004,
makes it more difficult for sex workers to practice their trade and make ends
meet. While an otherwise conservative society
may be loath to admit it, selling sex in South Korea is a big industry. By some
unverified estimates, it accounts for 1.6
percent of GDP (there are also significantly higher estimates). Other reported statistics
cite the figure one-fifth: one in every five men buys sex four times per month.
So much demand creates a need for supply — the same source reports one out of
every 25 women in South Korea is selling sex. This is to say nothing of the sex trade and sex tourism.
Sex
workers are calling on the court to throw out or modify the law, according to JTBC.
Former Jongnam (a district in Seoul) chief of police Kim Gang-ja is leading the
charge. She argues that “the penalty clause must be abolished for the sake of
sex workers’ livelihoods,” because “not only does the Special Law on
Prostitution violate basic rights of sexual freedom and freedom of occupation,
but it leads to negative side effects for sex workers who are forced to work
illegally.”
The
government sees it as a matter of protecting the public. JTBC cited
attorney Choi Hyun-hee, who testified for the government, as saying,
“Prostitution, which involves the transaction of sex, cannot be judged solely
in the private domain. If prostitution is harmful to the public, it is not only
undeserving of protection as an occupation, but the penalty clause must be
maintained for a healthy sex culture.”
It is an
interesting case for a nominally conservative society. Given the anti-adultery
law was recently struck down, it
wouldn’t seem far-fetched for the court to throw out the 2004 law on
prostitution. While it may not make sex work an entirely legal enterprise, it
might go so far as to decriminalize the sale of sex but not the purchase. This
is a common social compromise that other countries have reached. Regardless of
whose side the court rules in favor of, the sheer size of the sex industry
means it isn’t likely to wither away just because some or even all of the
transactions taking place therein are illegal. Above all else, as a popular
service and form of consumption, it makes it all the more important to
understanding its history, power relations, and gendered dynamics.
By Steven
Denney
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