This article is by Seo Ji-eun, Cho Jung-woo, Alicia Carr and read by an artificial voice.
[EXPLAINER]
If you've ever stood in front of Gwanghwamun, the main gate of Gyeongbokgung Palace, you've likely looked up at the massive wooden nameboard perched high above the crowds.
To the untrained eye, it appears as a dignified relic — a slab of calligraphy that crowns one of the most iconic landmarks in Seoul.
But to some Koreans, those three characters — "光化門," written in traditional Chinese hanja characters — are currently the center of a high-stakes tug-of-war over national identity.
The debate, which has simmered for decades, was recently reignited when Culture Minister Choi Hwi-young, during a Cabinet meeting chaired by President Lee Jae Myung on Jan. 20, proposed a double-decker compromise: keeping the current hanja sign on the top tier while adding a new sign in hangul, the Korean alphabet, beneath it.
The Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism has said it will proceed through expert consultations and public hearings before moving on to formal steps. Choi said in a briefing on Feb. 12 that public debate should come first, while also acknowledging that anything touching cultural heritage must follow expert review.
As Korea approaches the 100th year since Hangul Day was first marked in October, the government faces a debate on authenticity and how the nation wants to be "read" by the world when it looks at Korea's most televised gate.
What is the debate about?
Hangul, Korea's phonetic alphabet, was created in 1443 under King Sejong (r. 1418-1450) during the Joseon Dynasty (1392–1910) to make reading and writing accessible beyond the elite.
But for centuries, Hanja remained dominant in official documents and public inscriptions in Korea.
For Lee Dae-ro, 80, director of the Hanmalgeul Association, or Korean Language Association, and a lifelong linguistic activist who has argued for years that Gwanghwamun should carry hangul, the current hanja sign is more than a historical artifact but is a source of "tears" and national "humiliation."
"This isn't something that came up again just for fun," Lee told the Korea JoongAng Daily.
He argued that because a hangul sign hung from the gate in the late 20th century, replacing it with hanja was "wrong," and the debate keeps returning because some Koreans are trying to "make it right."
Lee repeatedly calls the current hanja nameboard "fake," even alleging that the government misled the public by describing it as "original-form restoration."
Heritage authorities, however, describe the nameboard as a historically informed replica based on archival sources rather than an original artifact.
A civic coalition is set to formally launch on March 1, Korea's Independence Movement Day.
The group plans to read a "Declaration of Independence for Hangul Culture," arguing that moving away from hanja signage signals a shift toward a self-reliant national identity.
Was there controversy before?
Yes, for more than half a century.
Gwanghwamun was first constructed in 1395 and is believed to have been given its name in 1425.
The Chinese-character nameboard now hanging above Gwanghwamun on Sejong-daero in central Seoul is widely understood to be a modern restoration of an inscription written in 1865 by Im Tae-young, the commander of the royal military training corps, during a major reconstruction of the gate.
The gate suffered extensive damage during Japan's 1910-45 colonial rule and the 1950-53 Korean War, and the nameboard was lost in the process.
When Gwanghwamun was rebuilt in 1968, a hangul nameboard handwritten by then-President Park Chung Hee was installed instead.
The current nameboard dates to October 2023, when authorities restored a Chinese-character version in gold lettering on a black background, based on historical records. The move corrected an earlier restoration in 2010 that used black characters on a white background, which the authorities acknowledged was incorrect.
An official at the ...