Korea’s Imbibing is a Definite Art
By Tom Coyner
The Korea Herald
June 9, 1979

The Chinese characters ju, meaning “wine,” and do, meaning “way” or “path,” combine to form the Korean word judo, or the “Way of Wine.” Do actually has a more profound spiritual meaning related to Taoism, a term derived from its Chinese pronunciation, tao.

The term “judo” first came to my attention shortly after I arrived in Korea four years ago as a Peace Corps Volunteer. Like many others I thought it referred to the Japanese martial art of the same pronunciation. I quickly learned, however, that in Korean the sport is pronounced yudo, and that judo refers to the “Way of Wine.”

Frankly speaking, I thought this was a tongue-in-cheek joke being played on naive foreigners, but not so! Judo is an integral part of Korea’s culture, treated as seriously as, say, Japan’s sado -- the tea ceremony or “Way of Tea.”

A fuller understanding of the significance of judo requires a look at its representation in Chinese characters. Ju means simply “wine” or “alcoholic beverage.” Do, however, often translated as “way” or “path,” poses a real problem for Western scholars of Asia.

Do means much more than merely “way” or “path,” since it deals with an extremely profound and religious concept of an ideal, total spiritual state. The character and the concept are often referred to by the Chinese pronunciation, “tao.” From this character comes the West’s term for a very central element in the Oriental consciousness: “Taoism.”

According to my observation, little of Taoism is overtly reflected in Korean culture, except as it mingles with Buddhism in the Zen school of meditation in Korea. One might bear in mind, however, that a favorite subject of painters in Korea’s Yi Dynasty (1392-1910) was the cavorting, of Taoist immortals in a drunken state.

Modern Korean followers of the “Tao of Wine” participate religiously, and with the same gusto as those immortals, in the nightly ceremonies of this most important part of their culture. (I’ve often wondered if Korea was originally labeled “The Land of the Morning Calm” because of its inhabitants’ physical state the morning after those nightly rituals.)

In actual practice, judo is much more than the simple, two-handed passing of small wine cups amid the underlying, almost dogmatic philosophy that no one walks away from the table sober.

The complexity of the code was most eloquently illustrated by the late Prof. Cho Ji-Hun of Korea University, a noted scholar, essayist, poet and devotee of judo.

In an essay titled “The Levels of the Way of Wine,” Prof. Cho described 18 distinct ranks in judo. The first four he lumped into the category of “ignorance,” scoffed at by more serious drinkers: The lowest is pulju, that of the teetotaler who abstains from alcohol entirely. Next is weju, for the antsy fellow who sips only a little, and worries about being intoxicated a lot.

The next step up is minju, the province of the “hangoverphobe,” whose paranoia, about the morning after inhibits his drinking and his enjoyment. The top level of ignorance is unju, for the hermit or miser. He drinks in secret, rather than with others, to avoid an occasional turn at paying the entire group’s tab.

The next category of four ranks, labeled “utilitarian,” is slightly more esteemed than ignorance, but still leaves followers of judo shaking their heads in pity.

First, and lowest, in this category is sangju, for the business drinker, who may enjoy drinking, but does so primarily while entertaining for ulterior business motives. Second is saekju, or carnal drinking, the desire for which is coupled with a more basic urge. The objective of these two sorts is something other than drinking for its own sake.

The next level is suju, or nightcap drinking, for people who may or may not be insomniacs, but who make a point of tippling just before hitting the sack. The fourth type of utilitarian drinking is panju -- before dinner drinking, using alcohol as an appetizer.

Truly praiseworthy, “serious” drinking comes only in the following top 10 ranks, each of which Prof. Cho treats as seriously as a martial arts expert might the 10 degrees of black belt status:

- Hakju, or novices’ drinking, the first step in devotion to the “Way of Wine.” Here, through experience and regular practice, one learns the essentials of the art.

- Aeju, where hearty aficionados are found; persons of more experience in -- and love for -- drinking.

- Kiju, for connoisseurs who are more than familiar with the varieties of spirits, and who hold definite opinions.

- Tamju, for those respectfully labeled “accomplished” drinkers and able to indulge most freely.

- Pokju, where the drinkers’ fanatical attitude toward imbibing earns them their title.

- Changju, or perpetual drinking. Those Taoist immortals can be found in this group.

- Sokju, a rare but mellow state in which the drinker achieves a compassionate understanding of the universe through alcohol.

- Nakju, or subliminal drinking. Here is achieved the highest spiritual state of actual drinking, so high that one no longer cares whether he drinks or not.

- Kwanju: All good things must come to an end, and so must active participation in judo. Kwanju is vicarious drinking, for those no longer physically able to drink. They find satisfaction instead by watching others, and the wine, evoking memories which sweep them away to an intoxicated state.

- Paeju, or nirvana. The utmost level in Korea’s “Way of Wine,” it is found in that “Happy Winehouse in the Sky.”

Korea’s society is a homogeneous one that places a high premium on the individual’s conformity to its standards. Each human being is unique, however, and thus never fully in harmony with social convention, so some release from social pressures is a psychological necessity.

Many Korean people have found that release through judo, taking this popular form of social interaction and raising it to a culturally sophisticated level. Thus drinking indeed plays an important role in Korea’s society and culture, as visitors are almost certain to discover when they themselves are quickly introduced to judo, the “Way of Wine.” (0P)

The writer is currently personnel supervisor for the Seoul branch of a major American bank, and is considered by a number of friends and associates to be of the aeju rank. -- Ed.

Special thanks to Ken Kaliher for rescuing this from the shredder while recently cleaning up his office. (Twenty-five years later, I have moved up just one rank to kiju.) -- Tom Coyner (Nov. 2002)