The wounds of victims and their families remain active and unresolved.
Efforts to uncover the truth and restore honor have produced laws and institutions.
However, competing interpretations continue to fuel social conflict.
“What the Baekbi Asks” — Questions from a Nameless Stone
The origin is clear enough.
The story starts in 1947.
At a March 1 commemorative rally that year, police fired on civilians, killing people and provoking deep local anger.
On the morning of April 3, 1948, armed groups signaled from Hallasan mountain and attacked police stations and right-wing organizations, turning tensions into open clashes.
The U.S. military government (the occupation authority in the south after World War II) and the Syngman Rhee administration invoked security concerns and imposed martial law (emergency military rule).
Large-scale suppression scorched inland villages and subjected coastal residents to mass detentions; whole communities lost their livelihoods.
Even after Hallasan and nearby areas were declared off-limits, the island’s wounds did not heal easily.
Gaps Between Historical Facts and Memory
Timelines do not carry all weight.
The formal timeline runs roughly from 1947 to 1954.
Key moments include the March 1, 1947 shooting, the April 3, 1948 attacks, the proclamation of martial law in November 1948, and the lifting of restricted zones around Hallasan in 1954.
But dates and numbers alone cannot convey the human magnitude of the tragedy.
Estimates of the death toll range between 25,000 and 30,000 people.
Those figures represent lost villages and households, not just statistics.
Legal steps followed to investigate the truth and restore honor, but many difficult issues remain unresolved.
Museums and the baekbi (a nameless stone monument) have become sites of memory.
The baekbi stands for unnamed victims and for grievances that went unrecorded.
These unlisted stories create fissures in collective memory.
Who Claims Justice?
The argument in favor is straightforward.
Supporters of the government’s actions emphasize the rebellion angle.
From this viewpoint, the April 3 attacks themselves are the core event.
An armed force linked to the local branch of the Workers’ Party of South Korea attacked police stations and right-wing organizations, highlighting a violent insurgency.
Backers point to international tensions and domestic left-right confrontation at the time.
They argue that, during rapid social change, strong measures were required to keep order and prevent wider communist influence.
They stress that state institutions, right-wing youth groups, and police acted in a context of perceived existential threat.
Indeed, there is evidence that armed groups attacked police and right-wing targets in some areas.
Those groups opposed the separate elections of May 10 and sought political influence; some villagers may have cooperated or been coerced.
Proponents use these facts to defend the legitimacy of suppression operations.
They also argue that actions must be judged by the norms and threat perceptions of the day.
If the rebellion were left unchecked, they warn, broader instability or expansion of communist control might have followed.
This reasoning reflects a conservative strand of historical interpretation that prioritizes state stability and law enforcement.
Who Demands Accountability?
The opposing view is sharply critical.
Critics focus on excessive use of force.
They contend that many of the victims were innocent civilians.
Martial law and the suppression operations led to systematic human rights violations and mass killings, they say.
Opponents trace the conflict back to the 1947 March 1 shooting, arguing police repression provoked resistance.
From this perspective, the armed uprising was a reaction to threats to survival and liberty, not merely a criminal rebellion.
Deaths during clashes cannot be written off as incidental combat casualties.
The tactics of suppression included total clearance of inland villages, preemptive detention of coastal residents, and summary executions.
Entire village populations declined sharply and many victims remained unnamed—exactly the kind of loss symbolized by the baekbi.
Critics insist that truth-seeking and honor restoration must go beyond symbolic gestures: they require state acknowledgment of responsibility, reparations, and institutional reforms.
They view special truth-seeking laws as the first step toward historical justice.
Collision of Views and Social Consequences
The conflict continues today.
Disagreements arise from competing politics of memory.
Right-leaning voices frame the story as rebellion and security; progressive voices prioritize human rights and victims.
These differences surface in museum exhibits, school textbooks, and local politics.
Practical disputes touch funding for memorial projects, how events are taught in schools, and who sets the narrative in public sites.
Financial and institutional responsibilities require negotiation between local and central government.
At times, worries about commercializing the wounds lead to debates over the appropriate tone of remembrance.
Meanwhile, truth-finding and balanced education remain crucial tasks for future generations.
Schools must present context and human rights perspectives in ways young people can understand.
Institutional stability and funding are unavoidable parts of that work.
Images and memorial spaces shape collective memory.
However, the way communities choose to commemorate is never neutral.
Which stories are centered will influence how a community understands itself.
What Conditions Make Resolution Possible?
Reconciliation is a process, not an event.
True reconciliation requires multiple steps.
Fact-finding must go hand in hand with assigning responsibility, offering compensation, reforming institutions, and educating the public.
Only when legal procedures and civic conversation operate together can durable reconciliation be achieved.
History is not a list of episodes.
It shapes collective memory, institutions, and the values of the next generation.
Therefore, state stability, institutional design, and education programs all play vital roles.
The remaining question is what we remember and how we teach it.
How memory is framed will help determine the character of future citizenship.
Conclusion: From Conflict Toward Commemoration
The main points are clear.
Jeju 4-3 is not merely a historical episode.
It is an ongoing challenge about victims, truth, and how institutions respond.
Both sides present arguments with merit, but ultimate resolution depends on dialogue and verified facts.
Key takeaway: investigating the truth is essential, and restoring honor should lead to institutional remedies and education.
Social reconciliation must center victims while also acknowledging legitimate concerns about security and governance.
Finally, a question for readers:
How will you remember this event, and how should it be passed on to the next generation?
