Comets in Korean History: The Tale of the Star That Changed Dynasties' Fate

A Narrative Exploration of Comets and Social Turmoil in History

• Investigate how ancient Koreans interpreted and responded to comets in the night sky.
• Examine the impact of comets on political power struggles and popular uprisings from Silla to Joseon.
• Trace how comets, once objects of fear, evolved into subjects of systematic scientific observation.

Comets: Celestial Harbingers of Fear and Transformation

Imagine a star suddenly appearing over the capital of an ancient kingdom on a pitch-black night. Unlike familiar stars, its faint glow and long tail crossing the night sky would have inspired awe mixed with primal fear. Our ancestors called this ominous celestial body ‘Salbyeol (Comet)’. As the name suggests, the appearance of a comet was more than an astronomical event; it was a stern heavenly warning predicting war, death, the dethronement of kings, and the fall of dynasties.

I remember wishing upon shooting stars as a child, but what did comets mean to the ancients?

This article narratively explores how comets deeply penetrated Korean history as powerful political and social catalysts within state governance, popular rebellions, and identity discourse. The appearance of a comet was never mere curiosity. It was a matter of national security and royal legitimacy, with every movement meticulously recorded and interpreted.

From the Silla era’s songs attempting to tame the heavens, to Joseon kings’ rituals humbling themselves before comets, to the political interpretations of a 15th-century general’s death linked to a comet, to the 19th-century comet that became a revolutionary banner during a popular uprising, and finally to the emergence of scientific perspectives that transformed fear into understanding — we will follow the dramatic journey of comets through our history.

The fact that the state established specialized astronomical institutions like the Gwanseonggam (Observatory) and invested heavily to systematically observe these feared phenomena reveals a core paradox within traditional governance. This was no contradiction. In an era when a king’s virtuous rule was proven by heavenly harmony, celestial disasters like comets posed potential challenges to royal authority.

Thus, recognizing a comet’s appearance first and controlling its meaning meant controlling discourse. The king could immediately perform repentance rituals such as Gamsun (reducing royal meals) or Gu-eon (seeking counsel), publicly demonstrating his pious submission to heaven’s will. This neutralized attacks from rivals who might claim the king had lost the Mandate of Heaven. Ultimately, systematic astronomical observation was an essential political defense mechanism to protect royal power, and astronomy was a key tool of statecraft. The extensive and detailed records in the Samguk Sagi, Goryeosa, and Joseon Wangjo Sillok stand as proof.

Chapter 1: Silla’s Comet — The Song That Pacified the Star

The story goes back to the 6th century during King Jinpyeong’s reign in Silla. At a time when Silla was solidifying its foundation amid tense relations among the Three Kingdoms, the Hwarang were a core elite group bearing the kingdom’s future.

According to the Samguk Yusa, three Hwarang—Georyeollang, Silcheorang, and Bodongrang—were about to lead their followers to train at Mount Geumgang. At that moment, a comet appeared in the night sky, “invading the Simdaeseong (Heart Great Star).” Simdaeseong refers to Antares, the red star at the heart of Scorpius, which in Silla symbolized the capital Seorabeol or royal authority. Thus, the comet’s intrusion was immediately interpreted as a threat to royal power and a national disaster, especially a dreadful omen foretelling a Japanese invasion. The fearful Hwarang hesitated to continue their journey to Mount Geumgang.

At that critical moment, a monk named Yungcheon appeared. To overcome the crisis, he composed and sang a ten-verse hyangga (native Korean poem) called “Comet Song (Hyesungga).” This song was not a simple prayer to ward off disaster but a sophisticated symbolic act to confront the narrative of ill omen head-on. The song downgraded the comet from a harbinger of disaster to a “star that sweeps the way” for the moon (symbolizing the king or state). Through this, it neutralized the comet’s ominous power and reinterpreted it as an auspicious presence.

Legend says that as Yungcheon’s song echoed, the comet vanished, and the Japanese invaders who had threatened the east coast retreated. This story functioned as a powerful foundation myth demonstrating the Silla people’s belief that cosmic and political order could be restored through art, faith, and ritual. “Hyesungga” can be seen as a form of ‘magical technique’ or ’narrative warfare.’ It was a sophisticated attempt to seize control of a negative cosmic narrative and transform it into a positive one through strong, public ritual acts.

The core issue Silla faced was not the comet’s physical presence but the ‘fear and paralysis’ attributed to it. Yungcheon’s song was a direct intervention in this semiotic crisis. By asserting the moon’s authority and demoting the comet to a guide star, he performed a ritual that restructured the cosmic symbolic order in favor of the Silla royal family. This was not a passive origin but an active expression of power seeking to psychologically and politically suppress the celestial threat. This incident, recognizing that the power of an ill omen lies in its interpretation, set an important precedent for the political manipulation of astronomical phenomena in later periods.

Chapter 2: Comets Under Heaven and the King’s Humility

By the Goryeo and Joseon dynasties, the appearance of comets was incorporated into state governance in a more systematic and institutionalized manner. At the core was the Mandate of Heaven ideology linking royal legitimacy to heaven’s will. Celestial disasters like comets, eclipses, and droughts were not random natural events but clear reprimands from heaven for the ruler’s moral failings.

Therefore, when a comet appeared, the monarch bore a highly formalized political duty to respond humbly and reflectively to heaven’s warning. The Goryeosa and Joseon Wangjo Sillok meticulously record the repeated repentance rituals performed by kings.

• Gamsun (Reducing Royal Meals): The king symbolically shared the suffering of his people by reducing the variety of dishes on his royal table.
• Gu-eon (Seeking Counsel): The king issued official orders encouraging ministers to criticize him fearlessly and point out government faults, demonstrating openness to correction.
• Samyunryeong (Pardon Decree): The king granted large-scale pardons to wrongfully imprisoned criminals, hoping to appease heaven’s anger through mercy.

These rituals formed a sophisticated crisis management system to handle the political shock caused by celestial disturbances. By publicly showing humility and taking responsibility, the king absorbed the legitimacy crisis posed by the ill omen and reinforced his image as a virtuous ruler attentive to heaven’s warnings.

The comet’s appearance exposed a moment of extreme political vulnerability, providing rivals with a heavenly mandate to challenge the king’s rule. Rituals like Gamsun and Gu-eon were the king’s key defense strategies. As Queen Jinseong declared, “This is because of my own failings,” the monarch claimed ownership of the problem, positioning himself not as a failed ruler but as a conscientious one correcting his faults. This was a preemptive political propaganda strategy to calm public sentiment and block opposition criticism.

Yet even within these ritual traditions, seeds of rational thought existed. In 1456 (Sejo 2), when officials reported that a comet disappeared after the emperor’s repentance ritual, King Sejo skeptically responded, “Those who recorded this are excessive. Can the heavenly way really react so quickly?”

Major Comet Appearances and Royal Responses in Joseon

Chapter 3: The Star Turned Weapon: The Tragedy of General Nam Yi

This chapter reads like a historical thriller. In 1468, the powerful King Sejo had just passed away, and his young, frail son Yejong had just ascended the throne. The court was tense between the established “Old Merit Subjects” faction led by Han Myeong-hoe and the rising “New Merit Subjects” like General Nam Yi, celebrated for his recent victories against the Jurchens.

Amid this power struggle, a comet appeared in the night sky, plunging the capital Hanyang into anxiety. At this time, the 26-year-old war hero Nam Yi told his colleague Yu Jagwang a fateful phrase: “The comet is a sign that the old is gone and the new is coming (彗星은 舊物이 없어지고 新物이 나타날 징兆다).”

Ambitious and hostile toward Nam Yi, Yu Jagwang seized this statement as an opportunity. He twisted Nam Yi’s ambiguous words into evidence of rebellion. He rushed to King Yejong, citing the Chinese historical text Zizhi Tongjian Gangmu, claiming that such remarks about a comet were signs of a general plotting revolt.

In a climate of fear stirred by the comet and political instability, Yu Jagwang’s accusation carried great weight. Nam Yi was immediately arrested, harshly interrogated, and despite his loyal defense, executed for treason. A tragic moment when a celebrated hero was destroyed, possibly by a superstition he did not even believe in.

Nam Yi’s tragedy is the ultimate proof that the interpretation of an ill omen can be far more powerful and dangerous than the omen itself. The comet was not the agent of Nam Yi’s death but the perfect pretext that justified it. Nam Yi’s words could have been interpreted as hopeful blessings for a new king’s era. Yet Yu Jagwang eliminated all ambiguity. By quoting foreign classics, he cloaked his interpretation with scholarly objectivity and historical precedent, making his claim appear a factual diagnosis of rebellion rather than political slander. The comet became the “witness from heaven” to a possibly fabricated crime. This incident vividly shows how superstition can be weaponized as a tool for political assassination.

Chapter 4: The Great Comet and the Great Rebellion: Hong Gyeong-rae’s Manifesto

In the early 19th century, Joseon groaned under the extreme corruption of the Andong Kim clan’s sedo politics. Widespread bribery and the collapse of the three taxes devastated the economy, and deep-rooted discrimination against the people of Pyeongan Province fueled popular anger. The soil for rebellion was well prepared.

At that time, in 1811, one of the brightest and largest comets in history—the Great Comet of 1811—dominated the night sky for months. It was not a faint, ambiguous presence but an overwhelming and majestic celestial event visible to all.

The unfortunate scholar and charismatic leader Hong Gyeong-rae seized this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He cleverly used the comet’s appearance in his revolutionary propaganda. His proclamations and the rumors spread by his followers made clear that this rebellion was not a mere riot but a heavenly-sanctioned uprising. The comet was presented as a clear sign that the Joseon dynasty had lost the Mandate of Heaven and that Hong Gyeong-rae was heaven’s chosen agent to “sweep away” the old corrupt order. He combined this with popular prophetic ideas like those in the Jeonggamnok, providing the oppressed masses with an irresistible revolutionary narrative.

Believing in this divine revelation, countless peasants, miners, and small merchants rallied under his banner, and Hong Gyeong-rae’s Rebellion swept through northern Pyeongan Province with explosive momentum. Although the rebellion was brutally suppressed by government forces, the myth of a “heaven-ordained revolution” he created lived on in the hearts of the people for a long time.

Hong Gyeong-rae completely overturned the traditional power structure of celestial omens. Where past monarchs absorbed the comet’s threat through rituals to maintain authority, Hong hijacked the omen’s power to attack the monarchy. He justified revolution in the eyes of the people through the comet. The traditional formula was: ‘Comet appears → King’s responsibility → King’s ritual → Order restored.’ Hong’s revolutionary formula was: ‘Comet appears → King’s responsibility → Therefore, the king must be overthrown.’ He transformed the comet from a ‘warning’ for elites into a ’license’ for the people. By linking the majestic visual evidence of the 1811 Great Comet with the real oppression and discrimination experienced by the people, he gave his uprising powerful and self-evident legitimacy. The comet was no longer a whisper in the court but a shout in the streets.

Chapter 5: From Omen to Object: Joseon’s Scientific Gaze

Now our story shifts from superstition to science. In the 15th century, King Sejong the Great vigorously pursued astronomical independence from China not merely for better technology but to assert cultural and political sovereignty. These efforts culminated in inventions like the Gani (simplified astronomical instrument) and the compilation of the Chiljeongsan (Seven Celestial Calculations), an independent calendar system suited to Korean conditions.

By the 17th and 18th centuries, this scientific tradition was carried on by astronomers at the Gwanseonggam. They conducted remarkably systematic and professional observations, recording daily astronomical phenomena in primary source documents called “Seongbyeon Cheokhu Danja (Records of Star Changes and Observations).”

Central to this chapter is the 1759 (Yeongjo 35) observation record of Halley’s Comet. This record vividly demonstrates the level of Joseon astronomy at the time. The “Seongbyeon Cheokhu Danja” details which constellation the comet passed through, its angular distance from Polaris (declination), brightness, color, and tail length, along with the names of multiple observers on duty each night. These records are considered among the most detailed and continuous premodern comet observations worldwide and are being considered for UNESCO Memory of the World registration.

Changes in Comet Record-Keeping: Silla vs. Joseon

“Seongbyeon Cheokhu Danja” marks a profound epistemological shift from interpretation to record. While political and ritual responses to comets continued at court, within the Gwanseonggam, an objective and quantitative scientific tradition blossomed. This is decisive evidence that astrology dealing with political meaning and astronomy pursuing scientific measurement began to separate. Where Silla’s record was a narrative stating “the comet invaded Simdaeseong,” the 1759 record logs data like “at the fifth watch, the comet was seen in the Xu constellation, 116 degrees from Polaris.” The former sought to explain the ‘why’ (heaven’s wrath), the latter aimed only to describe ‘what, where, and when.’ This qualitative narrative to quantitative data transition is a hallmark of the scientific revolution. It proves that 18th-century Joseon astronomers, though society still wrestled with ominous meanings, were already conducting work that can be called modern science in its empirical aspect.

Conclusion

Through this article, we have traced the grand journey of the comet, or ‘Salbyeol,’ in Korean imagination. The long and complex relationship with comets offers a unique window into the vast evolution of Korean politics, society, and science.

• Comets were powerful symbols moving politics and society beyond mere astronomical phenomena. From Silla’s “Comet Song” to Joseon kings’ rituals, discourse around comets shaped the direction of power.
• The era’s anxieties transformed the comet’s role. Once a warning to royal authority, the comet became a political snare for General Nam Yi and a revolutionary banner for Hong Gyeong-rae.
• Fear fueled scientific advancement. Efforts to understand and predict comets elevated Joseon astronomy to world-class levels, leaving precious scientific legacies like the “Seongbyeon Cheokhu Danja.”

We no longer fear comets as ominous signs. Paradoxically, the historical records born from that fear remain invaluable scientific and cultural treasures today. This is perhaps the final and most fascinating echo that Salbyeol has left in our history.

Next time a comet appears in the night sky, why not recall these rich stories left by our ancestors?