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A forsaken monument that no one seeks

Published: 12 Mar. 2025, 00:05

Kim Dong-ryul

The author is a professor at Sogang University.

In the very heart of Seoul stands a solitary stone monument. Yet, few people know of its existence. Even those who do often choose to ignore it. On rare occasions, some even hurl insults at it. The monument is located at the corner of the Kyobo Building at the Gwanghwamun intersection, a place where thousands pass by each day. And yet, it remains outside the realm of public interest.

The monument is called the Chinggyeongbi, meaning Monument of Celebration and Commendation. It was erected by Emperor Gojong himself. When I ask my students in class, “How long did Gojong reign?” most estimate around a decade — some say as little as four or five years — while others stretch it to 10. In reality, he held the throne for an astonishing 44 years. How did he manage to retain power for so long during such a tumultuous period? The answer is simple: he devoted himself entirely to preserving his own rule. Matters of state, the well-being of the people or the fate of the nation were secondary concerns to him. To maintain his wealth and privileges, he aligned himself with Japan when it suited him, turned to China when necessary and occasionally sought support from Russia. Through this relentless maneuvering, he managed to hold onto his throne for 44 years — making his reign the third longest in the 500-year history of the Joseon Dynasty, after those of kings Yeongjo and Sukjong.

Emperor Gojong, center, with the Joeseon royal family. [KOREA HERITAGE SERVICE]

It is no exaggeration to say that his primary concern was his own glory. In 1902, to commemorate his 40th year on the throne, he commissioned Chinggyeongbi. The monument reportedly cost 1 million won at the time, a staggering sum given that the national budget for that year was around 8 million won. One-eighth of the country’s entire budget was spent on a self-congratulatory celebration. And just three years later, the nation fell to foreign rule with the signing of the Eulsa Treaty in 1905.

There are those who attempt to glorify Gojong as a remarkable figure, but such claims are difficult to accept. Regardless of how history is interpreted, the greatest responsibility for the loss of the nation rests squarely on his shoulders. This is an undeniable historical truth. Whenever I see Chinggyeongbi, shrouded in darkness within its stone enclosure, I am overwhelmed with thoughts. The suffering of our ancestors — who were driven to exile in Manchuria and North Gando because of an inept leader — fills me with boundless rage. For these reasons and more, I struggle to muster even a shred of human sympathy for Gojong.

At Gwanghwamun intersection, an unexpected burst of spring sunlight crashes down like cymbals, loud and resounding.

Translated using generative AI and edited by Korea JoongAng Daily staff.