The Lost Identity of Cheongju : A Linguistic and Cultural Paradox
I've mentioned the term 'Cheongju' several times in my previous writings. Literally translated, 'Cheongju' means 'clear liquor.' However, under the current Korean liquor tax law, the term 'Cheongju' actually refers to 'Japanese clear liquor.' This creates an interesting situation where if we were to recreate the Cheongju recipes found in ancient Korean literature, those beverages wouldn't officially be classified as 'Cheongju.' Instead, clear liquor made using traditional Korean methods is classified as 'Yakju.' This raises an important question: why are we unable to use the term 'Cheongju,' which is both our language and our traditional alcohol?
Historical Erasure : The Ongoing Legacy of Colonial Classification
In Korean liquor tax law, Cheongju and Yakju are distinguished primarily by their ingredients and fermentation methods. Japanese-style Cheongju uses only rice as its main ingredient, while Korean Cheongju (classified as Yakju) can include various starchy ingredients such as rice and glutinous rice etc. There's also a standard regarding fermentation agents: if "ipguk" (scattered koji mold) is used, it's classified as "Cheongju," but if even just 1% or more of traditional Korean nuruk (fermentation starter) is used, it's classified as "Yakju." Indeed, I'm talking about Korean liquor tax law, not Japanese liquor tax law. The irony lies in the fact that within Korea's own legal framework, the pure Korean term "Cheongju" has been defined to represent Japanese-style clear rice wine. This creates the absurd situation where Koreans cannot legally use their own traditional terminology to describe their own traditional alcoholic beverages. Again, This is not about Japanese regulations but rather about how Korea's own regulatory system has maintained colonial-era classifications that disconnect Koreans from their own cultural terminology.
Without understanding the historical context, one might dismiss this as a trivial issue. However, this classification continues to cause confusion among Koreans about their traditional alcoholic beverages. More significantly, there's the irony that the pure Korean word "Cheongju" cannot be used to describe Korean clear liquor. In fact, ancient Korean literature consistently refers to Korean alcoholic beverages as "Cheongju." It's deeply unfortunate that we still cannot reclaim this term that we've used throughout our history, despite the considerable time that has passed since Korea's liberation from Japan.
In reality, the term "Yakju" more strongly carries the meaning of "medicinal alcohol" or "liquor containing medicinal ingredients." If you were to ask random people on the street "What is Yakju?", most would answer that it's "alcohol containing medicinal ingredients." Before studying brewing myself, I also believed Yakju was alcohol made with medicinal herbs.
The criteria in the liquor tax law aren't based on the presence of medicinal ingredients, but rather allow only Japanese-style production methods to be called "Cheongju." The most important criterion has essentially become whether traditional Korean nuruk is used. Even if you make alcohol using only nuruk, grain, and water without any additives, it's classified as "Yakju" not "Cheongju" under tax law. Meanwhile, Japanese sake can be classified as Cheongju even when it's made by diluting distilled alcohol and mixing in sweeteners.
It's truly incomprehensible why Japanese-style brewing methods in Korea should be classified using the Korean word "Cheongju" rather than "sake." The word "Cheongju" is distinctly Korean, and alcohol following sake methods should rightfully be classified as sake. The term "Cheongju" isn't even used in Japan – there, they call sake "seishu."
Let's consider wine and whiskey as examples. When wine is made in America or Australia, it doesn't get a different name. We recognize and classify it all as "wine," with only the production region being different. The same applies to whiskey. These days, whiskey is also being produced in some of Asian countries, but we don't give it a different name. We simply call it "whiskey."
Why, then, can't we call our traditional "Cheongju" by its rightful name instead of classifying it as "Yakju"? Rather than merely accepting this as painful history from long ago, I believe we need a revision of the liquor tax law to reclaim the original terminology.
This topic might not interest anyone who isn't Korean, or even Koreans who aren't interested in alcohol. However, as someone aspiring to become a producer, I wanted to document this issue. I believe that producers should take an interest in the history behind what they create.