On May 8, 2026, at 3 p.m., a gathering took place at the Memorial Hall of the National Cemetery in Dongjak-dong, Seoul, where attendees paid their respects to a prominent journalist. The event commemorated the 136th birthday and the 81st death anniversary of Goha (古下) Song Jin-woo.
Hosted by the Goha Song Jin-woo Memorial Foundation and supported by the Ministry of Veterans Affairs and Dong-A Ilbo, the ceremony was more than a mere commemoration. It served as a moment to reflect on the origins and future of journalism in Korea.
The atmosphere in the Memorial Hall was solemn. The ceremony began with a national tribute, followed by the reading of a biography, memorial speeches, a commemorative lecture, performances, flower offerings, incense burning, and a moment of silence. Over 300 attendees, including descendants of independence activists, veterans, academics, journalists, and citizens, gathered to honor Goha's life.
Hyun Byeong-cheol, president of the Goha Free Democratic Research Institute, stated, "The values of freedom and responsibility, peace and coexistence, unity and democracy that Goha left behind are crucial to uphold even at this moment." This statement was not merely a tribute; it served as a stern warning to contemporary Korean society and a profound reflection on a divided era.
Yoo Hong-rim, president of Seoul National University, also deeply honored Goha's life, saying, "In the harsh reality of the Japanese colonial period, he prioritized the freedom and dignity of the nation over his own safety." This sentence encapsulated the essence of Goha's life.
Goha was a journalist, but he was not merely a newspaper publisher. He was also an educator, an independence activist, and a politician. However, the most significant title he held was that of a 'public servant.' He placed the fate of the nation and community above his own well-being in the face of the responsibilities demanded by his time.
The name 'Goha' means 'standing beneath the old.' It signifies humility before history and tradition, a virtue that transcends mere modesty. It embodies the spirit of a modern intellectual who sought to reconcile tradition with modernity, the nation with the world, and freedom with responsibility.
The final resonances of the memorial were deepened by a tribute message from Professor Song Sang-hyun, a distinguished professor emeritus at Seoul National University and Goha's grandson. He did not recount Goha's life merely as a family history.
He reflected, "During the Japanese colonial period, he dedicated his life to the independence movement, and after liberation, he worked tirelessly for the establishment of a free democratic nation," emphasizing the need to fully inherit the values of freedom, democracy, and national dignity that Goha sought to protect for future generations. It was a time to reaffirm the spirit of independence and nation-building, as well as the essence of journalism.
The heavy footsteps of attendees leaving the Memorial Hall reflected this sentiment. That day, we were not just commemorating a single journalist; we were questioning the very nature of journalism itself.
Who was Goha Song Jin-woo? He was born in 1890 in Damyang, Jeollanam-do. His family lineage is from Sinpyeong, and his pen name is Goha. From a young age, he studied Confucian classics and learned about the sorrows of a nation in despair under the guidance of independence activist Ki Sam-yeon. Later, he encountered modern education and went to Japan, graduating from Meiji University with a degree in law.
During his studies abroad, he formed a deep bond with Inchon (仁村) Kim Seong-su. Their relationship transcended mere alumni connections; it was a friendship akin to the historical bond between Guan Zhong and Bao Shuya in ancient China. Like them, Goha and Inchon understood each other's intentions and acknowledged their roles as they walked together on the path of national education and journalism.
While Inchon laid the foundations for national education and journalism with capital and organization, Goha supported this path with intellect, logic, and writing. Though they took on different roles, their goal was singular: to preserve the national spirit of colonial Korea.
After returning to Korea, Goha became the vice principal and later the principal of Jungang School. At that time, Jungang School was not just an educational institution; it was a cradle of national consciousness and a space where the spirit of the March 1st Movement blossomed.
Goha discussed strategies for the independence movement with figures such as Kim Seong-su, Hyun Sang-yun, Choi Rin, and Choi Nam-seon. After the March 1st Movement in 1919, he was arrested and imprisoned in Seodaemun Prison. Although he was acquitted in court, he spent nearly a year and a half in detention.
However, prison could not break his convictions. In 1921, Goha became the third president of Dong-A Ilbo. He later served as president, advisor, and chief editor, intertwining his fate with that of the newspaper. For him, the newspaper was not merely a business; it was the voice, ears, and breath of the nation.
Thus, he endeavored to uphold the role of the press as a public instrument even amid Japanese oppression. Dong-A Ilbo launched the Movement for the Promotion of Local Products, advocated for the establishment of a national university, and took the lead in the eradication of illiteracy through the Bna Rod Movement. Goha believed that journalism should not only convey events but also cultivate the survival capacity of the nation.
The press had to be the eye of the times. It had to be the voice of the weak. It had to embody the conscience of the nation. In 1936, when marathon runner Son Ki-jung won a gold medal at the Berlin Olympics, Dong-A Ilbo published a photo of him with the Japanese flag erased from his chest. This incident, known as the 'Erasure of the Japanese Flag,' was not merely an editorial act; it was a journalistic resistance to protect the dignity of a nation in despair. As a result, Dong-A Ilbo faced a suspension, and Goha had to resign under pressure from the colonial government. However, he did not succumb; he merely stepped down.
The Japanese authorities pressured him to cooperate with them, urging him to participate in Shinto rituals and recruit student soldiers. Yet, Goha ultimately refused. He protested, stating, "Dong-A Ilbo is my mouth, my ears, my breathing nose, and my hands and feet. How can someone whose entire being has been severed act?" Demanding cooperation while silencing the press was akin to asking the nation to sell its conscience, which Goha could not accept.
After liberation, Goha faced another historical challenge. While liberation brought joy, it also ushered in chaos. The ideological divide was severe, and the shadows of U.S. and Soviet military administrations loomed over the Korean Peninsula. Goha organized the Preparatory Committee for the National Assembly and served as the chief secretary of the Korean Democratic Party, seeking a path toward a free democratic nation. However, the joy of liberation was short-lived.
On the morning of December 30, 1945, he was shot at his home in Wonsa-dong, Seoul, ending his life at the age of 55. Goha's death was a personal tragedy, but it also marked a tragedy in modern Korean history. Yet, his life is not merely remembered as a tragedy.
He exemplified what journalism should be. He did not bow before power, did not retreat before the nation, and did not remain silent in the face of the times. His journalism was not a commercial skill but a public conscience.
Today, Korean journalism must once again ask itself in the presence of Goha: For whom do we write? Do we write for clicks or for truth? For factions or for the community? In the age of artificial intelligence (AI), journalism has gained unprecedented speed and efficiency. AI can quickly generate articles, and algorithms can finely analyze readers' preferences.
However, no matter how advanced technology becomes, the essence of journalism remains unchanged: to verify facts, monitor power, protect the vulnerable, and illuminate the direction of the community. AI may be able to write articles, but it cannot replace the conscience of journalism. Algorithms can analyze interests but cannot judge justice.
Thus, the spirit of Goha is even more urgent in the age of AI. The balance of freedom and responsibility, nation and world, fact and conscience, journalism and public service is essential. Honoring the name of Goha Song Jin-woo is not merely a remembrance of the past; it is a reaffirmation of the position that today's journalism must reclaim.
The spirit of friendship that preserved national education and journalism alongside Inchon Kim Seong-su, and the essence of journalism that upheld its public duty even amid Japanese oppression, are more crucial than ever in our society today.
Goha has departed, but the questions he left behind remain unresolved. Whose side should journalism take? The answer is clear: journalism should not side with power, capital, or factions. Journalism must stand on the side of truth. This is the path left by Goha Song Jin-woo and the path that today's Korean journalism must walk again.
Hosted by the Goha Song Jin-woo Memorial Foundation and supported by the Ministry of Veterans Affairs and Dong-A Ilbo, the ceremony was more than a mere commemoration. It served as a moment to reflect on the origins and future of journalism in Korea.
The atmosphere in the Memorial Hall was solemn. The ceremony began with a national tribute, followed by the reading of a biography, memorial speeches, a commemorative lecture, performances, flower offerings, incense burning, and a moment of silence. Over 300 attendees, including descendants of independence activists, veterans, academics, journalists, and citizens, gathered to honor Goha's life.
Hyun Byeong-cheol, president of the Goha Free Democratic Research Institute, stated, "The values of freedom and responsibility, peace and coexistence, unity and democracy that Goha left behind are crucial to uphold even at this moment." This statement was not merely a tribute; it served as a stern warning to contemporary Korean society and a profound reflection on a divided era.
Yoo Hong-rim, president of Seoul National University, also deeply honored Goha's life, saying, "In the harsh reality of the Japanese colonial period, he prioritized the freedom and dignity of the nation over his own safety." This sentence encapsulated the essence of Goha's life.
Goha was a journalist, but he was not merely a newspaper publisher. He was also an educator, an independence activist, and a politician. However, the most significant title he held was that of a 'public servant.' He placed the fate of the nation and community above his own well-being in the face of the responsibilities demanded by his time.
The name 'Goha' means 'standing beneath the old.' It signifies humility before history and tradition, a virtue that transcends mere modesty. It embodies the spirit of a modern intellectual who sought to reconcile tradition with modernity, the nation with the world, and freedom with responsibility.
The final resonances of the memorial were deepened by a tribute message from Professor Song Sang-hyun, a distinguished professor emeritus at Seoul National University and Goha's grandson. He did not recount Goha's life merely as a family history.
He reflected, "During the Japanese colonial period, he dedicated his life to the independence movement, and after liberation, he worked tirelessly for the establishment of a free democratic nation," emphasizing the need to fully inherit the values of freedom, democracy, and national dignity that Goha sought to protect for future generations. It was a time to reaffirm the spirit of independence and nation-building, as well as the essence of journalism.
The heavy footsteps of attendees leaving the Memorial Hall reflected this sentiment. That day, we were not just commemorating a single journalist; we were questioning the very nature of journalism itself.
Who was Goha Song Jin-woo? He was born in 1890 in Damyang, Jeollanam-do. His family lineage is from Sinpyeong, and his pen name is Goha. From a young age, he studied Confucian classics and learned about the sorrows of a nation in despair under the guidance of independence activist Ki Sam-yeon. Later, he encountered modern education and went to Japan, graduating from Meiji University with a degree in law.
During his studies abroad, he formed a deep bond with Inchon (仁村) Kim Seong-su. Their relationship transcended mere alumni connections; it was a friendship akin to the historical bond between Guan Zhong and Bao Shuya in ancient China. Like them, Goha and Inchon understood each other's intentions and acknowledged their roles as they walked together on the path of national education and journalism.
While Inchon laid the foundations for national education and journalism with capital and organization, Goha supported this path with intellect, logic, and writing. Though they took on different roles, their goal was singular: to preserve the national spirit of colonial Korea.
After returning to Korea, Goha became the vice principal and later the principal of Jungang School. At that time, Jungang School was not just an educational institution; it was a cradle of national consciousness and a space where the spirit of the March 1st Movement blossomed.
Goha discussed strategies for the independence movement with figures such as Kim Seong-su, Hyun Sang-yun, Choi Rin, and Choi Nam-seon. After the March 1st Movement in 1919, he was arrested and imprisoned in Seodaemun Prison. Although he was acquitted in court, he spent nearly a year and a half in detention.
However, prison could not break his convictions. In 1921, Goha became the third president of Dong-A Ilbo. He later served as president, advisor, and chief editor, intertwining his fate with that of the newspaper. For him, the newspaper was not merely a business; it was the voice, ears, and breath of the nation.
Thus, he endeavored to uphold the role of the press as a public instrument even amid Japanese oppression. Dong-A Ilbo launched the Movement for the Promotion of Local Products, advocated for the establishment of a national university, and took the lead in the eradication of illiteracy through the Bna Rod Movement. Goha believed that journalism should not only convey events but also cultivate the survival capacity of the nation.
The press had to be the eye of the times. It had to be the voice of the weak. It had to embody the conscience of the nation. In 1936, when marathon runner Son Ki-jung won a gold medal at the Berlin Olympics, Dong-A Ilbo published a photo of him with the Japanese flag erased from his chest. This incident, known as the 'Erasure of the Japanese Flag,' was not merely an editorial act; it was a journalistic resistance to protect the dignity of a nation in despair. As a result, Dong-A Ilbo faced a suspension, and Goha had to resign under pressure from the colonial government. However, he did not succumb; he merely stepped down.
The Japanese authorities pressured him to cooperate with them, urging him to participate in Shinto rituals and recruit student soldiers. Yet, Goha ultimately refused. He protested, stating, "Dong-A Ilbo is my mouth, my ears, my breathing nose, and my hands and feet. How can someone whose entire being has been severed act?" Demanding cooperation while silencing the press was akin to asking the nation to sell its conscience, which Goha could not accept.
After liberation, Goha faced another historical challenge. While liberation brought joy, it also ushered in chaos. The ideological divide was severe, and the shadows of U.S. and Soviet military administrations loomed over the Korean Peninsula. Goha organized the Preparatory Committee for the National Assembly and served as the chief secretary of the Korean Democratic Party, seeking a path toward a free democratic nation. However, the joy of liberation was short-lived.
On the morning of December 30, 1945, he was shot at his home in Wonsa-dong, Seoul, ending his life at the age of 55. Goha's death was a personal tragedy, but it also marked a tragedy in modern Korean history. Yet, his life is not merely remembered as a tragedy.
He exemplified what journalism should be. He did not bow before power, did not retreat before the nation, and did not remain silent in the face of the times. His journalism was not a commercial skill but a public conscience.
Today, Korean journalism must once again ask itself in the presence of Goha: For whom do we write? Do we write for clicks or for truth? For factions or for the community? In the age of artificial intelligence (AI), journalism has gained unprecedented speed and efficiency. AI can quickly generate articles, and algorithms can finely analyze readers' preferences.
However, no matter how advanced technology becomes, the essence of journalism remains unchanged: to verify facts, monitor power, protect the vulnerable, and illuminate the direction of the community. AI may be able to write articles, but it cannot replace the conscience of journalism. Algorithms can analyze interests but cannot judge justice.
Thus, the spirit of Goha is even more urgent in the age of AI. The balance of freedom and responsibility, nation and world, fact and conscience, journalism and public service is essential. Honoring the name of Goha Song Jin-woo is not merely a remembrance of the past; it is a reaffirmation of the position that today's journalism must reclaim.
The spirit of friendship that preserved national education and journalism alongside Inchon Kim Seong-su, and the essence of journalism that upheld its public duty even amid Japanese oppression, are more crucial than ever in our society today.
Goha has departed, but the questions he left behind remain unresolved. Whose side should journalism take? The answer is clear: journalism should not side with power, capital, or factions. Journalism must stand on the side of truth. This is the path left by Goha Song Jin-woo and the path that today's Korean journalism must walk again.
* This article has been translated by AI.
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