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The Daily Newsstand · Free, Always
Monday, November 9, 2026

Japan’s anti-Korean bigots made Shin Sugok a target. She kept fighting.

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Shin Sugok sits for a photo while speaking with the Hankyoreh near Hongik University in Seoul on Nov. 2, 2026. (Jung Yong-il/Hankyoreh)

Shin Sugok sits for a photo while speaking with the Hankyoreh near Hongik University in Seoul on Nov. 2, 2026. (Jung Yong-il/Hankyoreh)

“If I had focused on running my business, I’d have at least 10 buildings in Ginza! Alas, I pivoted and became a human rights activist, so that’s just wishful thinking!”

A broad grin spread across 67-year-old Shin Sugok’s face as she jokingly described herself as a failure. As a third-generation Zainichi Korean born in Tokyo, Shin grew up amid poverty and discrimination before building a successful business career as a young entrepreneur. But just as she was making her mark in the business world, she walked away from it to devote herself to human rights activism.

Known as an elegant but formidable fighter, Shin is the central figure in “Horoomon,” a documentary by director Lee Il-ha set to open in Korean theaters on Wednesday. We met Shin at a shared office space in Seoul’s Mapo District on Monday ahead of the documentary’s release. 

“Back then, it was virtually impossible for Zainichi Koreans to find employment, so I had basically given up. I was lucky enough to start modeling, which then allowed me to start my own business. After gathering talented women together and showcasing their prowess in an era in which sexism was rampant in hiring practices, I became even more successful through establishing a corporate training company for women. Japan had just passed its Equal Employment Opportunity Law, so many companies were hankering to hire more women,” she said. 

Still from the documentary “Horoomon.” (courtesy Atnine Film)

Still from the documentary “Horoomon.” (courtesy Atnine Film)

Her business flourished, prompting Shin to publish several self-help books for women. A change came in April 2000, when her business had reached the apex of success. 

“I remember being busy that day training bankers when a journalist from the Mainichi reached out to me, asking whether I had anything to say in response to the comments that Ishihara had made that day,” she said. 

As soon as she read the news, she froze. Shintaro Ishihara, the governor of Tokyo at the time, used the term “sangokujin,” a racist slur used for Chinese and Koreans living in Japan after World War II, during a ceremony for Japan’s Ground Self-Defense Force.

Shin’s mind immediately wandered to the massacre of Koreans following the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923, a tragedy that haunted her grandmother throughout her entire life. 

“It felt like he was picking a fight, and if I didn’t speak up immediately, I thought I would never be able to fight back ever again. So that’s why I participated in a rally and demanded that Ishihara apologize. Soon after that, all of our clients jumped ship. That’s how my dream of owning several buildings in Ginza went poof! Destroyed,” she recalled. 

Since then, whenever Zainichi Koreans, Japanese ethnic minorities — such as the Ainu people — and social minorities such as migrants and the disabled faced any kind of discrimination or violence, Shin has stood by their side and raised her voice with them. 

In 2013, when Japan saw a surge in far-right rallies and hate speech, she founded Norikoe Net, a civic organization aimed at pushing back against bigotry. 

Shin’s lawsuit against Japanese company DHC over its defamatory claims about her is central to “Horoomon” and marked a watershed moment both in her life and in the broader fight against discrimination in Japan.

Still from the documentary “Horoomon.” (courtesy Atnine Film)

Still from the documentary “Horoomon.” (courtesy Atnine Film)

Still from the documentary “Horoomon.” (courtesy Atnine Film)

Still from the documentary “Horoomon.” (courtesy Atnine Film)

In 2017, the television channel run by the company spread false information about Shin on its program “News Girls.” The program, in which men teach women about current affairs, touched on the protests against the building of US bases in Okinawa. When covering the issue, the program said that Shin received money from North Korea to back those protests, which led to relentless harassment. 

Feeling that her life was in danger, she sought refuge in Germany. However, she said that she “could not bear to see the reputation of the Okinawan peace movement be so tarnished,” which prompted her to return to Japan to fight. 

After receiving an official apology from the company in 2018 after the Japanese Broadcasting Ethics and Program Improvement Organization determined it to have violated her human rights, Shin filed a defamation lawsuit and ultimately won a final judgment in 2023, securing 5.5 million yen in damages.

As a result, DHC TV, whose far-right leanings were exposed and whose reputation subsequently plummeted, was officially dissolved, and the parent company withdrew its business from Korea. 

The film captures Shin, who maintained a composed smile and steady voice in the face of threats and verbal abuse, finally breaking down in tears after receiving the call with the final verdict — tears she had held back for a very long time.

Still from the documentary “Horoomon.” (courtesy Atnine Film)

Still from the documentary “Horoomon.” (courtesy Atnine Film)

Shin’s victory stopped Japanese society from veering straight into the right, but it did anything but allow her to live her life in peace.

“Following the lawsuit, I became a landmark for hate. Even now, people wearing masks circle around my house. Sometimes people leave trash near it, and I also receive threatening emails. However, these are all things I have to deal with. If anything, I am more worried about how much stronger and more intricate the discrimination we experience is becoming.”

When describing her battles, Shin takes a modest stance, saying, “I do not adhere to any particular philosophy or doctrine; instead, I strive to do whatever I can to help those who need me the most.”

This belief is mirrored in how she does not want filmgoers to leave the theater thinking that they must eliminate discrimination and hate. 

“The situation you are in may be difficult and lonely, but, if you look around, you will always see people who feel the same way. If you raise your hand and ask for help, that can enable you to take the first step to solve the problem,” she said. “I hope that people who feel utterly alone come to see this documentary.”

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