People Who Opened the World’s Door

What image comes to mind when you hear the word ‘interpreter (譯官)’? Probably someone quietly translating foreign envoys’ words beside the king, or a fleeting expert of strange languages in historical dramas.

But what if I told you they were the helmsmen who charted the course of the great ship called Joseon, sometimes merchants richer than kings, and even revolutionaries who smuggled in a new world at the risk of their lives?

Our story begins at the borderlands where the cold winds of the Amnok River blow. On one man’s shoulders rests the fate of the nation. A single word or intonation from him can turn the vast Ming dynasty’s stance toward peace or war. He is neither king nor general, yet the safety of Joseon is decided at the tip of his tongue. This man is the interpreter.

This is not a simple record of translators. It is a story about the state institution that trained them, harsh training, the shackles of social status, immense wealth, and the dangerous ideas secretly brought in along with silk and books. Now, let us unfold the grand saga of the interpreters, Joseon’s only window to the world for 500 years.

Part 1. A New Dynasty, A New Order: The Birth of the Saeokwon

In 1392, the new Joseon dynasty opened its doors. The newborn nation needed a clever diplomatic strategy for survival. Thus, Joseon chose a very pragmatic path called ‘Sadae Gyorin (事大交隣)’. ‘Sadae’ meant serving the powerful China to seek stability, and ‘Gyorin’ was a policy to maintain good relations with neighbors like Japan and the Jurchens to manage borders.

Who was needed to carry out this strategy? Language experts, the vanguard on the diplomatic front. Finally, in 1393, Joseon established the Saeokwon (司譯院), the official state institution for foreign language education and interpretation. This was not just a language school but a core national institution overseeing diplomatic affairs and nurturing talent.

The Saeokwon’s structure reflected Joseon’s geopolitical situation. It was divided into four main language departments called ‘Sahak (四學)’:

• Han Hak (漢學, Chinese): Undoubtedly the primary foreign language. As the heart of ‘Sadae’ diplomacy, all official dealings with Ming and Qing dynasties depended on Han Hak interpreters.
• Mong Hak (蒙學, Mongolian): Established in 1410. Even after the Yuan dynasty’s fall, the northern Mongols remained a significant force, and communication with them was vital for national defense.
• Wae Hak (倭學, Japanese): Incorporated in 1414. While struggling with southern Japanese pirates, Joseon also needed trade profits. Wae Hak interpreters stood at the forefront of policies that sometimes opened ports (carrot) and sometimes launched attacks on Tsushima Island (stick).
• Yeojin Hak (女眞學, Jurchen): Established in 1434 to deal with the powerful northern Jurchens. When the Jurchens later founded the Qing dynasty, this department was renamed Cheong Hak (淸學).

Here we find an important fact: the founding years of each department are not mere records but vivid history showing how Joseon’s threats and strategic priorities evolved. The Saeokwon was a geopolitical barometer that sensitively responded to East Asia’s changing international landscape.

The Four Pillars of Saeokwon: The Blueprint of Joseon Diplomacy

Part 2. The Melting Pot of Languages: How Interpreters Were Made

How was a single interpreter born? Let’s follow the life of a boy born into a Jungin (middle-class) family destined to become an interpreter. His path was more fate than choice, as the interpreter position was often hereditary. According to the 『Yeokgwa Sebo (譯科世譜)』 records, the Cheonryeong Hyun family produced 89 interpreters over 9 generations, and the Haeju Oh family produced 22.

Upon entering the Saeokwon, harsh training awaited him. Especially the Ueocheong (偶語廳) was a true linguistic crucible. Korean was forbidden there; from morning till night, only the foreign language being learned was spoken—like the original ‘English village’ of today.

The curriculum was strictly practical. Chinese textbooks 『Nogeoldae (老乞大)』 and 『Baktongsa (朴通事)』 were not mere grammar books. They vividly portrayed conversations experienced by Goryeo merchants traveling in China—booking inns, ordering food, bargaining prices—teaching living language.

After completing all training, the boy faced the life-defining national exam called Yeokgwa (譯科). Held every three years, only 19 candidates were selected per language: 13 for Chinese and just 2 each for the others. The competition was fierce.

Those who passed became part of the unique social class called Jungin (中人). They were essential experts in interpretation, medicine, and law but were always regarded as inferior by the yangban aristocracy. An invisible glass ceiling called ‘Hanpum Seoyongje’ blocked their promotion.

Here lies the core contradiction of the interpreter’s existence. They were indispensable to the state yet marginalized outsiders in society. Joseon could not conduct diplomacy without their tongues, but the yangban-centered society denied them full honor. This fundamental contradiction led them to prove their worth through wealth rather than office and to open their minds to new worldviews beyond the old order.

The Path to Interpreter: The Yeokgwa Exam

Part 3. The Golden Age: Interpreters Become Merchants

How did interpreters become Joseon’s wealthiest? The secret was their monopoly on foreign travel. They were diplomats, spies, cultural brokers, and above all, the most profitable international traders.

Their wealth engine was a unique system called Palpoje (八包制). Instead of a salary, the court granted interpreters the right to conduct private trade on dangerous diplomatic missions. ‘Palpo’ or ’eight bundles’ originally meant the right to carry and sell 80 geun of ginseng.

Over time, Palpoje became more sophisticated, allowing trade capital in silver coins instead of ginseng. Interpreters built a vast triangular trade network connecting Joseon, China, and Japan. For example, silk thread bought in China for 60 nyang of silver could be sold in Japan for 160 nyang, nearly tripling profits.

A symbol of this wealth was 17th-century interpreter Byeon Seung-eop (卞承業). He was the real-life model for the millionaire Byeon family in Park Ji-won’s novel 『Heosaengjeon』, showing that the richest man in Hanyang was not a high-ranking official but a Jungin interpreter.

Of course, this came with life-threatening risks. Their trade often involved smuggling prohibited items like gunpowder or military maps, punishable by death if caught.

Joseon was a Confucian state that valued agriculture and scorned commerce, yet interpreters were allowed to become state-recognized trade capitalists. The court saved on salaries, solved diplomatic tasks, and obtained valuable goods and information through them. This reveals how pragmatically the regime operated behind ideological facades.

Part 4. Forbidden Faith, A New World: Interpreters and the Cross

Interpreters brought more than silk and silver through Joseon’s only window. Traveling to Beijing, they encountered Western missionaries and the new knowledge called Seohak (西學)—a remarkable bundle of astronomy, geography, and the unfamiliar religion of Catholicism.

The story turns tragic. In 1784, interpreter Kim Beom-woo (金範禹)’s house became the hideout of Joseon’s first Catholic community. The next year, the ‘Myeongnyebang Incident’ exposed the secret gatherings. Noble converts were lightly reprimanded and released, but Kim Beom-woo, a Jungin, took full responsibility and died in exile after brutal torture. He was Joseon’s first Catholic martyr.

Despite horrific persecution, interpreters stood at the center of the nascent Joseon Catholic Church. They risked their lives to smuggle in the first foreign priest, Father Zhou Wenmo, and another interpreter, Choi In-gil, even impersonated Zhou Wenmo to protect him, ultimately being arrested and martyred.

Why were interpreters especially drawn to Catholicism?

1. They were the only group with direct access to Seohak.
2. The doctrine that ‘all are equal before God’ offered a powerful alternative to social discrimination.
3. Their profession fostered flexible thinking about the outside world.

Here lies a profound historical irony. The Saeokwon, created to uphold Confucian order, paradoxically became the first gateway through which revolutionary worldviews that would shake that order to its roots entered Joseon.

Part 5. The End of an Era: Saeokwon Facing Winds of Change

The final chapter unfolds in 1894 amid the great storm of the Gabo Reform (甲午改革)—a radical attempt to dismantle old Joseon and build a modern state.

Change was revolutionary. The centuries-old caste system was legally abolished, and the civil service exam was discontinued. In this whirlwind, the 500-year-old Saeokwon officially closed, its functions absorbed into the modern Ministry of Education-like ‘Hakmu Amu (學務衙門)’.

This was not just administrative reform but the end of a world and culture. The hereditary profession, the life-risking exams, the lucrative Palpoje, and the Jungin identity—all that defined the interpreters’ universe vanished into history’s shadows.

Here we meet another paradox. The interpreters’ power and wealth were possible because Joseon was a ‘closed country’ maintaining only one channel to the outside world. But when the country’s doors opened wide, the specialized gatekeepers were no longer needed as before. Ironically, the modernization wave sown by the interpreters ultimately led to the disappearance of their own world.

Conclusion: The Echoes of the Interpreters

The 500-year grand journey has ended. We followed the interpreters who began as state tools, became commercial empire owners, spread forbidden faith, and vanished with the new winds blowing through the windows they opened.

Their story shows that history is not only made by kings and generals. It is often shaped by those standing at the margins, living between inside and outside. Interpreters were the human bridges connecting an isolated kingdom and a dynamic world.

They were Joseon’s window, through which the dawn of a new world broke.