|
|
March 1, 2002
Nazis used as a marketing ploy
How Adolf Hitler became Ddolf Ditler, unlikely Korean nightclub
icon.
JONATHON NARVEY SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH BULLETIN
A pitch-black board with white lettering outside of the brightly
lit Korean nightclub had an unusual message for its patrons: "The
Hitler theme of our bar was chosen only as a shocking style of design.
We in no way mean to promote the ideology of Nazism. We sincerely
apologize for any offence this may cause our guests."
The sign was next to a 30-foot-tall picture of a stern-looking Adolf
Hitler giving his infamous fascist salute. The Hitler Techno Bar
and Cocktail show was located on a busy street in the heart of downtown
Pusan, the second largest metropolis in South Korea.
Having been raised to associate Hitler, swastikas and soldiers of
the Third Reich (all gaudily decorated on the north side of the
building, leaving der Fuhrer by himself on the east side) with fear
and loathing, I was a little shocked to see such a place in such
an incongruous location.
Possibly the only Jew in a city of 4.5 million, I'd been in Korea
teaching English for about two months when I saw that the Hitler
bar had opened up just a three-minute walk from my teaching institute.
It was early January 2001. By then, I'd grown accustomed to the
mirror-image swastikas, decorating everything from Buddhist temples
to restaurants. The images are considered to be spiritual symbols
and, to some of my students, represent good luck.
I'd even become used to the cheap, tin, Second World War German
army helmets frequently seen donning the heads of the tougher-looking
Korean motorcyclists. In a land where many of the locals will worship
anything Western, a little Nazi chic is perhaps to be expected.
The images of the Hitler bar seemed qualitatively different, though.
The inside of the place looked innocent enough: aside from the occasional
swastika on the wall or on your coaster, the bar was virtually identical
to all of the other neon-lit, techno-pop bars that dotted the downtown
area. The employees were friendly and clean-cut. The clientele were
virtually all locals out to drink and dance, with the exception
of a few curious English teachers who usually ended up drinking,
if not dancing. No skin-headed, neo-Nazi thugs roamed about on the
two occasions I decided to see for myself what the place was like.
The symbols outside bothered me, though. In a city where businesses
adopt seemingly random English words for their businesses (such
as CIA bar, CNN bar or Goopy Fried Chicken restaurant) was it inevitable
and harmless that a Hitler bar should appear?
I asked my advanced English students what they thought. Many seemed
surprised I even thought the bar worth discussing. Its name wasn't
for lack of knowledge: according to my student Mey Shin, Koreans
were aware that Hitler and his Nazi followers had killed millions
of people, Jews in particular. Many Koreans also have seen big Hollywood
movies like Schindler's List that might familiarize them with Hitler
and his cronies.
An older businessman named Mr. Park, who was registered in my class,
explained it to me: Hitler has about as much relevance to modern-day
Koreans as the Mongolian warlord Ghengis Khan, or even one of the
more recent Korean dictators (Gen. Kim Young Sam has a bar dedicated
to him in the same Pusan downtown neighborhood, I later discovered).
The images are intended simply as a unique and innovative, if offensive
to some, method of attracting customers. In short, there's no such
thing as bad publicity.
This conclusion struck me as odd, since many Koreans are still very
bitter about their own disastrous colonization experience at the
hands of the Japanese Empire from the 1920s to the mid-1940s. The
Japanese occupiers attempted to assimilate the Koreans into the
empire, used conscripted Korean labor on a mass scale, tortured
nationalist leaders, bloodily put down insurrections and turned
thousands of Korean women into sex slaves. Some of my students seethed
when I mentioned Japan even in passing. At the time the Hitler bar
opened, Korean president Kim Dae Jung was leading his country in
denunciations of revisionist Japanese history textbooks.
Therefore, the complacency of my students toward the Hitler bar
was strange. A suggestion by me that one of them might open an Emperor
Hirohito bar was seen as beyond the pale by all of them, who almost
universally claimed that there was not a direct parallel.
The Hitler bar is no more. Three months after it appeared, the owner
changed the name to Ddolf Ditler and made cosmetic changes to the
outside of the bar, including getting rid of the looming image of
Hitler at the front - though the panzer tank commander in the alcove
stayed and the mural of the Reich high command remained on the north
side. According to the English-language local news available on
the Internet at the time, the owner gave in to a petition signed
by perhaps 50 foreigners and may also have been influenced by some
other foreigners who came in to the bar and shouted insults at customers
and employees.
For those who missed out on the Hitler bar and who may be travelling
to Pusan soon for the World Cup soccer tournament, I suggest dropping
by Reichts in the Pusan National University area. I happened to
notice the swastika-decorated cocktail lounge in November, shortly
before coming back to Canada, and it may still be there.
Jonathon Narvey is a freelance writer living in Vancouver.
^TOP
|
|
