Hangul sign debate reflects Korea’s identity

A person may truly assert their identity only when able to write their own name.

At a March 31 forum on the proposed addition of a Hangul signboard at Gwanghwamun, this reporter was reminded of names such as Hwang Gangaji, Kim Mungchi, Kim Bahoe, Son Sakdami, Kim Syubeogi and No Maksan. These names appear in an 18th-century Hangul guild document discovered in 2016, recording enslaved people and villagers in Majin Village in Jinju.

Rendered in Hangul, the names offer a vivid reminder that even those of low status were not defined solely by subordination, but lived as active members of their own communities.

Without King Sejong’s vision that ordinary people should be able to express themselves, and without later efforts to cultivate Hangul culture, Korean society today would likely look very different. It is difficult to imagine the same level of public participation or the broad sharing of knowledge and information.

That is why it is hard to fully accept arguments opposing a Hangul sign on the grounds that cultural heritage should not be altered to reflect the times. Hangul is not a passing trend. As Lee Geon-beom, head of the Hangul Culture Solidarity, noted at the forum, it lies at the core of Korea’s identity. The spirit behind its creation has carried into the ideals of today’s democratic republic. It is difficult to define Koreans without their language and script.

Still, whether Hangul should appear at Gwanghwamun is a separate question. Supporters say the site, as a national symbol, is an appropriate place. At the same time, a new signboard would change the structure’s historical appearance. Respect for the practices and cultural legacy of earlier generations remains important.

The proposal does not call for replacing the existing Chinese-character sign reading “Gwanghwamun.” With earlier calls for its removal no longer on the table, claims that a Hangul sign would amount to manipulating historical evidence appear overstated. Nor would it deny the traditions built through the use of classical Chinese characters.

This reporter opposes development-driven changes that damage cultural heritage, but also questions an absolutist approach that treats it as untouchable. Such views may reflect a lingering sense of loss tied to cultural assets damaged or erased during Japan’s colonial rule and the upheavals of modern history.

More than 30 years have passed since the demolition of the former Japanese Government-General building, which was seen as removing a symbol of colonial rule and restoring the palace as a national landmark. The appeal made in 1922 by Yanagi Muneyoshi, warning of the potential loss of a Joseon architectural treasure, now belongs to history rather than an unresolved task. Viewing cultural heritage solely through the lens of national suffering reflects an earlier era. Adding a Hangul sign would neither erase the history of colonial-era damage nor distort the record.

Gwanghwamun may have completed its historical transformation in 1910, but it remains a living landmark, shared by the Korean people and carried into the future. The question now is what should be passed on to the next generation. There is a clear continuity in allowing the descendants of people such as Hwang Gangaji and Kim Mungchi, who once wrote their own names, to mark their history in a democratic republic. Writing “Gwanghwamun” in Hangul on the signboard could serve as a meaningful tribute to the gradual emergence of a more inclusive society over the past 600 years.