Gwanghwamun Signboard Debate Reveals Confusion Between Script and Language

The Taegeuk flag is our proud national emblem. The Taegeuk symbol was widely used across East Asia regardless of whether Confucianism was the dominant philosophy, and Korea was no exception. However, an acquaintance who has conducted exchanges with China told me something interesting. In the past, when displaying the Korean flag at events in China, Chinese people would sometimes protest, asking, "Taegeuk is Chinese—why does Korea use it on their national flag?" When I asked how he responded, he said he usually gave vague answers.

Fortunately, such complaints have become rare recently. Chinese people have grown accustomed to "the Taegeuk flag of the Republic of Korea," and perhaps they have finally grasped the concept of shared heritage. Historically, it appears ancient Chinese people named this particular pattern "Taegeuk" and applied concepts of yin-yang and Confucian philosophy to it. However, the Taegeuk pattern itself was widely used in Korea and many other countries. For reference, the current official flags of Mongolia and Tibet (government-in-exile) also incorporate Taegeuk designs. (Unlike our Taegeuk flag, which features both Taegeuk and the Eight Trigrams, these nations use only Taegeuk.) Similarly, while many countries use cross-shaped designs on their flags, I have never seen anyone claim the cross belongs exclusively to their nation.

By using the Taegeuk and Taegeuk flag—symbols of Eastern culture—the Republic of Korea has been able to clearly assert its symbolic identity. This stands in stark contrast to the People's Republic of China, whose flag features the "star" design imported from Europe with no roots in Eastern tradition.

I bring up the Taegeuk flag because of the renewed controversy over the Hangeul signboard at Gwanghwamun Gate of Gyeongbokgung Palace. Culture Minister Choi Hwi-young reported to the State Council meeting chaired by President Lee Jae-myung on the 20th of last month that he would pursue adding a Hangeul inscription alongside the existing Chinese characters on the Gwanghwamun signboard. He subsequently raised the need for public debate on this issue at a recent press briefing. Previously, during the Yoon Suk-yeol administration in 2024, the Ministry of Culture had proposed replacing the current Chinese character signboard with a Hangeul version, but the initiative fizzled out. The Hangeul signboard issue has resurfaced in less than two years.

This time, the proposal differs slightly in that it would keep the Chinese character signboard while adding a Hangeul version. The ministry explained the need for a "Gwanghwamun Hangeul signboard" as follows: "To transform Gwanghwamun, a dynamic space where modern history lives and breathes, into a living national symbol by installing a Hangeul signboard embodying present and future values; to resolve cultural misunderstandings among foreigners caused by the Chinese character signboard and promote Korea's differentiated identity and prestige worldwide through our unique Hangeul script; and to inherit King Sejong's spirit of independence on the occasion of the 580th anniversary of the promulgation of Hunminjeongeum and the 100th anniversary of the declaration of Hangeul Day this year."

These are all well-intentioned reasons. However, to summarize, the recurring discussion about a Hangeul signboard stems from the perception that having Chinese characters on a signboard at our central plaza means using "Chinese script." But perhaps the real problem is the very notion that Chinese characters are exclusively Chinese. The confusion arises from conflating script and language—that is, "Hanja (Chinese characters)" and "the Chinese language." Chinese characters are used in many countries including China, Korea, and Japan. Unlike Korea, which has recently adopted Hangeul-only policies, Japan has always been primarily character-based.

If any Chinese person or other foreigner misunderstands the Gwanghwamun signboard, that reflects a deficiency in their intellectual capacity, not our problem. Gwanghwamun currently also features the "Eight Trigrams" pattern, a key component of the Taegeuk flag. Gyeongbokgung Palace is being restored to its state during the reign of King Gojong in late Joseon, and the Gwanghwamun signboard is part of that process. Modifying the Gwanghwamun signboard would constitute a significant alteration to the overall cultural heritage restoration plan, including Gyeongbokgung Palace.

On another note, no one would suggest changing the Chinese character signboards at Japanese imperial palaces. This is also why the many countries using Roman (Latin) script—whether English, French, or others—do not insist on creating their own unique scripts rather than using "Italian letters." For instance, when the director of the Institute for the Translation of Korean Classics argued at the Ministry of Education's presidential work report late last year that "Chinese character education should be expanded," President Lee expressed agreement.

Regarding the Gwanghwamun signboard discussion, what matters most is the overall restoration of Gyeongbokgung Palace. The government has a plan to restore Gyeongbokgung Palace to its historical state by 2045. By 2032, when the confirmed Phase 2 of the second restoration plan (five phases total) is completed, approximately 40% of the original buildings will be rebuilt. (During the first restoration project from 1990 to 2010, 25% was completed.) Of course, significant effort is required. Questions persist about whether a Joseon-era Gyeongbokgung Palace is still relevant today.

The biggest issue may be the front section of Gyeongbokgung Palace. After many twists and turns, the Gwanghwamun Gate's moon terrace and signboard were restored in 2024 to their current state. However, the Dongsipjagak and Seosipjagak—the eastern and western corner towers flanking Gwanghwamun when viewed from the front—have not been returned to their proper positions. Damaged during the Japanese colonial period, Dongsipjagak remains severed from Gyeongbokgung's walls like an island, while Seosipjagak has disappeared entirely, leaving only a lone marker stone on the sidewalk. When looking at Gyeongbokgung, it appears like a figure with both arms severed. Am I the only one whose heart aches every time I pass in front of Gwanghwamun?

Under the current plan, both the eastern and western corner towers are scheduled for restoration by 2045, the final fifth phase of the Gyeongbokgung restoration. However, success remains uncertain given the enormous costs and the need to reorganize road networks. If we truly want to reclaim Gwanghwamun's symbolic significance, restoring the eastern and western corner towers should take priority over adding a Hangeul signboard.

One more point I wish to add concerns the impracticality of the ministry's citation of Beijing's Forbidden City (Zijincheng) as a precedent for dual-script signboards at last month's State Council meeting. The ministry stated that "the Forbidden City's signboards display both Chinese characters and Manchu," but more precisely, they show "Chinese characters" and "Manchu script." Originally, only Chinese character signboards existed, but when Manchus conquered China, they added Manchu script to the same signboards to assert their dominance.

Later, when the Qing Dynasty Manchu Empire collapsed following the Xinhai Revolution, new signboards were made with Chinese characters only. However, some original Chinese-Manchu character signboards remain as cultural heritage. Comparing this to dual Chinese character and Hangeul signboards in Korea is difficult to comprehend.