A hit Netflix series is reigniting a debate in South Korea over the country’s massive military, its history of abuse scandals, and the mandatory conscription that fills its ranks with young men.
D.P., short for Deserter Pursuit, has been among the top Netflix shows in South Korea since it premiered at the end of August.
The series follows military police assigned to capture deserters, shining a light on daily life for many conscripts, including mental and physical abuse from other soldiers.
Photo: Reuters via Netflix
Director Han Jun-hee said he sought to tell a humanising story about how the system makes deserters both victims and criminals, as well as the toll it takes on those forced to do the hunting.
“D.P. is a story of tracing a deserter, but at the same time, it is a paradoxical story of looking for someone’s unfortunate son, brother, or lover,” Han said.
Asked about the popularity of the show, a defense ministry spokesman said that the military environment has changed and that the ministry has tried to stamp out abuse and harsh treatment.
Photo: Reuters via Netflix
Last week the military announced that even before the series came out, it had planned to do away with the system of having rank-and-file soldiers track down AWOL comrades. That change will go into effect in July next year.
South Korea maintains an active duty military of 550,000, with 2.7 million troops in reserves, amid decades of tensions with North Korea. All men must serve for up to 21 months, depending on the military branch.
South Korea’s military criminal law punishes desertion by up to 10 years in prison.
The Defense Ministry says abuse and desertion among conscripts are down, largely because of a 2019 decision to allow enlisted soldiers to use cellphones in their barracks.
The ministry declined to confirm the exact number of deserters, but South Korean media reported that 55 cases were reported last year, down from 78 in 2019. Military deaths by suicide also dropped from 27 to 15 in the same period.
HEATED DEBATE
The series landed as the country debates the future of conscription and the potential for abuse, particularly as young men facing dim economic prospects have complained of losing time to military service that they could have spent on studies or work.
In 2018 a Supreme Court ruling for the first time found that conscientious objection is a valid reason to forgo military service. Parliament last year passed a bill allowing K-Pop stars to postpone their military service to when they are 30.
The military has been rocked by multiple sexual abuse scandals this year, prompting lawmakers to pass a law that sex abuse and violent crime in the military will be handled by civilian courts.
Reaction to the series among former conscripts has been mixed, with some saying it mirrored their experiences, others saying its depictions of abuse are overblown, and some avoiding the show altogether to prevent traumatic memories from resurfacing.
“There is a scene in D.P. where they throw combat boots (at the soldier). I went through a lot of similar harassments,” said Ma Joon-bin, who described his time between 2013 and 2014 as the “dark ages.” “Now that I look back I feel it was unfair, but back then it was so common.”
Lee Jun-tae, 24, who served from 2017 to 2019, said he had never experienced or heard of any of his friends suffering abuse during their service.
“There was no harsh treatment during my time,” he said.
Last week the presidential favorite for the ruling party, Lee Jae-myung, called the stories in the series a “barbaric history” of South Korea. Hong Joon-pyo, an opposition party candidate, has said he endured cruelty as a soldier and pledged to consider moving to voluntary military service.
Ending conscription won’t solve all the problems if broader military culture doesn’t change as well, said pop culture critic Kim Hern-sik, who served as a D.P.
“As long as there is military service, whether mandatory or voluntary conscription system, problems are inevitable one way or another,” Kim said.
Taiwan’s English education system is being pulled apart by three opposing forces. Bilingual Nation 2030 pulls students toward English and global communication. Artificial Intelligence (AI) readiness pulls them toward digital judgment, verification and AI-mediated work. But Taiwan’s old exam culture pulls them back toward memorization, grammar drills, timed reading and correct answers. If the education system keeps using old exams to define success, it risks producing graduates who are neither genuinely bilingual nor genuinely AI-ready, but trained for tasks machines can already perform. The first force is Bilingual Nation 2030. Launched in 2018, the policy aimed to “help Taiwan’s workforce connect
It seems every few days one bumps into one of those “real man” comments in which Taiwan is urged to “face reality” or similar, and “make a deal,” with the speaker implying that soon it will be too late. “Deal” advocates always present themselves as having a superior grip on reality, and the manly ability to make the “hard choice.” Their testosterone-laden language often echoes that of Taiwan sellout advocates. Note that such commentary always specifies a process (“make a deal, work with, make progress”), never the end state of what occupation by a violent authoritarian colonialist state will entail. In
June 1 to June 7 "If all Taiwanese were as afraid of dying as you, then what would happen?” Physician Shih Chiang-nan (施江南) reportedly said this to his wife Chen Chiao-tung (陳焦桐) after she urged him to stop intervening on behalf of Taiwanese soldiers stranded overseas after serving in the Japanese Army during World War II. Shih had clashed with high-ranking officials over the issue, engaged in several heated arguments with Taiwan governor-general Chen Yi (陳儀) and allegedly shouted at general Ko Yuan-fen (柯遠芬), chief of staff of the Taiwan Garrison Command, over
“Taiwan’s Opposition Leader Comes to US With a Message Straight Out of Beijing” read a May 31 headline in the Wall Street Journal. Top US administration officials and members of Congress almost certainly read the WSJ, and if there was a bullet point takeaway that people in Washington should absorb ahead of Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chair Cheng Li-wun’s (鄭麗文) arrival in DC on June 9, that headline is it. The last few columns have discussed this very topic, and the timing is not coincidental. While those top officials likely do not read the Taipei Times, judging by the number