Introduction
After liberation from Japanese colonial rule, former colonies in Asia – including South Korea – had to overcome their colonial past and build a new nation–state. In the post-colonial context, the political project of nation-building was reflected in urban planning and national architecture (Vale Reference Vale2008). Until the 1980s, urban planning in South Korea was carried out to embody the ideals of a developmental state, while also safeguarding and restoring traditional cultural heritage and constructing government cultural facilities infused with a sense of Korean identity (Park Reference Park2020). Full-fledged post-colonial discourse emerged after democratisation in 1987, taking on a strongly anti-Japanese imperialist character. Notably, the “Correcting the Past” initiative, carried out by the democratic government between 1993 and 1998, exemplifies the reconfiguration of colonial legacies based on strong anti-Japanese nationalism.
Cheongwadae (the Blue House),Footnote 1 which served as both the office and the official residence of Korea’s highest political authority after 1948, is a representative case that illustrates the post-colonial context through both the construction of new architecture symbolising national identity and the removal of colonial legacies as part of the “Correcting the Past” initiative in the late 1980s. Furthermore, its opening to the public following the relocation of the presidential office in 2022 signals a shift, revealing that the restoration of the Joseon Dynasty, grounded in anti-Japanese imperialist sentiment since the 1990s, was no longer a singularly dominant strategy for representing national identity.
The construction of Cheongwadae as a national symbol and its opening as a public place reflect this evolving post-colonial discourse since the second half of the twentieth century in South Korea. Its construction aligns with the post-colonial discourse of the 1990s grounded in anti-Japanese imperialism and nationalism, while debates on its reuse since 2022 highlight a shift towards a second stage of post-colonial discourse that seeks to transcend both nationalism and colonialism. This study examines how the South Korean government and society have emphasised national identity through the construction and opening of Cheongwadae and its role within post-colonial South Korea.
Two key questions are explored in this study:
-
1. How has Cheongwadae represented nation-building through its construction process since the late 1980s in the post-colonial context?
-
2. How has the place identity of Cheongwadae been defined by efforts to establish it as a public site and post-colonial heritage after 2022?
By addressing these questions, this study seeks to explore the place-making of Cheongwadae within the context of post-colonial heritage.
First, this study explores the chronological spatial transformation of Cheongwadae. Second, it investigates how the 1989 Cheongwadae spatial project contributed to nation-building. Third, it examines the plural place identities of Cheongwadae in the politics of naming. Ultimately, this study seeks to understand Cheongwadae’s significance in South Korea’s ongoing post-colonial discourse.
Theoretical background and analytical framework
Post-colonial discourse in Korea
After liberation, Korea’s historical discourse largely maintained the colonial historiography shaped by Japan, which was based on the theories of heteronomous development and historical stagnation. Following the April Revolution of 1960,Footnote 2 the theory of endogenous development was proposed within the academic community as a post-colonial declaration (Yun and Lee Reference Yun and Lee2016). Ironically, however, under President Park Chung-Hee’s regime (1961–1979), a nationalist paradigm was constructed that blamed the Joseon Dynasty (1392–1897)Footnote 3 and instead emphasised the Korean people’s ability to overcome adversity (Podoler Reference Podoler2011, 20–21). This nationalism was aimed at the construction of a sovereign nation-state in South Korea, rather than at an anti-imperialist struggle (Ibid., 18; Hong Reference Hong2018).
With the democratisation of 1987, discussions on the failed decolonisation efforts after liberation and the April Revolution were revived (Kim and Kang Reference Kim and Kang2003), which led to the emergence of a post-colonial discourse strongly reflecting anti-Japanese imperialism. In this sense, South Korea can be understood as a “late colonial society” that maintained many colonial structures and regulations until the 1970s rather than entering a truly post-colonial phase immediately after liberation. It was only in the late 1980s that discussions on post-colonialism emerged as a form of “decolonial nationalism” as Korea sought to distance itself from the colonial legacy (Hwang Reference Hwang2017).
This post-colonial discourse developed in a significantly different manner from that of other Asian countries such as Taiwan, Singapore, and Hong Kong. Specifically, there is a notable difference when compared to Taiwan, which was under Japanese colonial rule for an even longer period than Korea. Regarding Taiwan’s post-colonial period after 1945, Allen (Reference Allen2012) refers to it as a neo-colonial phase under the Kuomintang government and argues that it only entered a true post-colonial period after martial law was lifted in 1987. Furthermore, regarding Taiwan’s pro-Japanese sentiment, Taylor (Reference Taylor, Makeham and Hsiau2005) defines it as pro-colonial. This difference stems from Taiwan’s multi-ethnic composition, resentment against the Kuomintang government that came from mainland China after liberation, and a desire to write the history of Taiwan as an island rather than as the history of the Han people. This is in stark contrast to South Korea, where there is a strong national identity and an anti-Japanese sentiment, rooted in the myth of one people.
In post-colonial societies, recovering the lost (past) reinforces and justifies the current order and provides comfort and historical consolation to nations that have not adequately conquered their past (Lowenthal Reference Lowenthal2015, 93–96). National narratives foster a cohesive imagined community (Anderson Reference Anderson2006, 19), reinforcing unity within national boundaries while distinguishing others as different (Bell Reference Bell2003, 69). In South Korea, post-colonialism rooted in anti-Japanese imperialism manifested through the unique Korean self-identity of “us” in comparison to the Japanese “other”, reinforcing the notion of “we” by defining Japan as the “other” (Podoler Reference Podoler2011, 237).
When examined in the political context of twentieth-century decolonisation and the emergence of new nation-states after World War II, the physical expression of national identity through traditional architectural styles is often found in South Korea. This style of design has been explained not simply as architects’ aesthetic choices but as outcomes that reflect political intentions (Vale Reference Vale2008). After the Korean War (1950–1953), the South Korean government proceeded with capital planning for Seoul to rebuild an independent democratic nation, which was perceived as a task of establishing national identity through urban development. Gyeongbokgung Palace was reconstituted as both a historic site representing Korean culture and a place for modern projects symbolising the legitimacy of the South Korean government, leading to the addition of urban monuments that reproduced traditional architectural styles using specific crafting techniques (Kang Reference Kang2018, 24).
Since the 2000s, however, post-colonialism in South Korea has evolved beyond anti-Japanese nationalism towards a more critical perspective that seeks to overcome both nationalism and colonialism. In this phase, post-colonialism has been adopted as a methodological framework to critique modernity, nationalism, and the nation-state itself, and to move beyond a single-nation cultural history (Hwang Reference Hwang2017). Within this changing intellectual context, interpretations of Japanese colonial architecture have also begun to diverge across generations. Younger generations who did not experience the colonial period themselves – described by Hyun Kyung Lee as the “post-memory” generation – have tended to question strongly nationalistic interpretations that frame such buildings solely as symbols of oppression (Lee Reference Lee2019, 298). This shift has also coincided with the recent popularity of retro and “newtro” culture in South Korea, in which historical environments are reinterpreted as cultural and aesthetic resources.
Cheongwadae as a post-colonial heritage
The post-colonial heritage in Asia carries the dilemma of not only representing a dark and undesirable past but also creating attractive heritage sites that nostalgically highlight the romanticised aspects of the colonial past (Yao Reference Yao2022). For instance, Hong Kong’s heritage focus shifted post-1997 to preserving colonial-era buildings and public spaces (Chan and Lee Reference Chan and Lee2017). By contrast, Taiwan’s positive perception of its Japanese colonial past reflects a different approach, viewing it as part of the country’s multifaceted culture (Amae Reference Amae2011; Yao Reference Yao2022).
In South Korea, post-colonial discussions as “decolonial” efforts peaked during the 1993–1998 Correcting the Past project, driven by strong anti-Japanese nationalism. As part of this project, the demolition of the Japanese Government-General Building (JGGB),Footnote 4 a symbol of Japanese colonial rule, and the restoration of the royal palaces were driven by strong anti-Japanese nationalist sentiment in post-colonial South Korea (Henry Reference Henry2014). The emphasis on Japanese atrocities revealed in the historicisation of Seodaemun Prison during the same period, similar to the demolition of the JGGB, was another erasure of collective memory through the destruction and restoration of symbolic spaces (Kim Reference Kim2007). This project highlighted the top-down nature of national identity formation, often overlooking collective memory and generational differences, which led to unresolved conflicts (Lowenthal Reference Lowenthal2015, 4; Tunbridge and Ashworth Reference Tunbridge and Ashworth1996; Bell Reference Bell2003, 73).
The demolition of the JGGB in 1995, supported by earlier actions such as the removal of the Government-General residence and the Gyeongbokgung Restoration Plan, revealed the complexities of post-colonial heritage in South Korea. The demolition of the JGGB was a powerful, tangible message of overcoming humiliation. This message further bolstered the image of valour and the spirit of the anti-colonial struggle (Podoler Reference Podoler2011). However, this demolition also sparked conflicts over South Korea’s post-colonial heritage, reflecting a broader confrontation within Seoul’s modern historical landscape between symbols of pre-colonial and modern history, historical buildings and landscapes, and nationalism and chauvinism (Son and Pae Reference Son and Pae2018).
South Korea’s post-colonial heritage clearly reveals “how the painful and controversial past has disrupted the formation of collective national identity in the present and why it is difficult to be accepted in society” (Lee Reference Lee2019, 29). Architecture and places, which can easily evoke memories of a painful and shocking past and provide testimony to the events, are used as “tools for the reconstruction and recovery of a society”, as seen in the demolition of the JGGB and the Gyeongbokgung restoration project (Ibid, 26).
The demolition of the JGGB and the restoration of Gyeongbokgung demonstrate how architectural heritage was mobilised to reconstruct national identity in post-colonial South Korea. However, these actions also sparked debates over what constitutes “colonial heritage” and how such legacies should be treated. The demolition of the JGGB in the 1990s, driven by anti-Japanese imperialism and rapid economic development, prompted awareness among preservationists and architectural historians about the need to protect modern heritage, including buildings from the Japanese colonial period.
In response, a new heritage registration system was established by architectural historians and experts at the Cultural Heritage Administration (CHA),Footnote 5 drawing on Japanese and Western precedents. This system – designed to protect heritage structures more than 50 years old, including those from the colonial period – emphasised “reuse” rather than preservation alone (Kim Reference Kim2017). By focusing on the present value rather than the colonial origin of such buildings, the system sought to reduce public antipathy towards “colonial heritage“. Today, more than 600 buildings from the Japanese colonial period – including Japanese-style houses, shrines, and even the former Government-General residences – are officially registered and managed as modern heritage. This approach can be seen in cases such as the transformation of Seoul Station, originally built during the Japanese colonial period, into “Culture Station Seoul 284,“ a public cultural space in 2011; the partial preservation of the former Seoul City Hall – whose demolition was halted in 2008Footnote 6 – and its conversion into the Seoul Metropolitan Library in 2012; and the registration of the Japanese-style house in Sinheungdong, a mansion formerly owned by a Japanese landlord during the colonial period, as a Registered Cultural Property in 2005, which has since become a landmark tourist attraction in the provincial city of Gunsan. Nevertheless, public debate continues over whether remnants of Japanese rule should be maintained with taxpayers’ money (CHA 2019).
The Gyeongbokgung restoration project is still ongoing, including not only the demolition of the JGGB and the restoration of spaces destroyed during the Japanese occupation but also changes to the surrounding areas. Gwanghwamun Square was created in front of Gyeongbokgung as the starting point of the national symbolic street, and recently, the Woldae – the platform in front of the main gate, Gwanghwamun Gate – was restored. There was even discussion of restoring Yukjo Street, which once ran in front of Gyeongbokgung during the Joseon Dynasty. In this process, traces of places formed in modern and contemporary times disappeared. Even the tram tracks and sewerage systems remaining from the Japanese colonial period were removed during the restoration of the Woldae. Despite opposition from several modern heritage scholars and civic groups to the creation of Gwanghwamun Square and the restoration of the Woldae (Youn Reference Youn2023), dissenting voices were overshadowed by the national desire to restore the grandeur of the Joseon Dynasty palace and by the practical purpose of creating a national tourist attraction to showcase to foreign visitors. Todd Henry criticises the restoration project of Gyeongbokgung and its surroundings, including the restoration of Gwanghwamun Gate and the installation of the statue of King Sejong in the square, as lending an “aura of authenticity” to the palace and its environment, calling it the “Chosun Renaissance” (Henry Reference Henry2014, 214–215). The attempt to restore the Joseon Dynasty has expanded beyond Gyeongbokgung Palace to include the Seodaemun areaFootnote 7 (Chosun Ilbo 2024b).
Meanwhile, previous research on Cheongwadae has primarily focused on the spatial and architectural layout of the rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace before its opening in 2022 (Jung Reference Jung2016; Kim Reference Kim2022b) and the dismantling of the royal garden by the Japanese colonial power in the early half of the twentieth century (Song et al. Reference Song, Kim and Choi2014). Some studies have criticised the Cheongwadae site from a geomantic perspective (Choi Reference Choi2004; Kim Reference Kim2022a) and for its limited spatial accessibility (Eom Reference Eom2014).
After Cheongwadae opened to the public, research shifted to its spatial history (CHA 2022a; Lee et al. Reference Lee, Seo, Kim, Ahn and Kuk2023; MCST 2023), architecture (Park Reference Park2024), landscape – including newly designated cultural heritage trees (Kim et al. Reference Kim, Lee, Choi and Choi2023; Shin Reference Shin2022) – and tourism resources (Kim and Jeong Reference Kim and Jeong2022; Kim and Kwak Reference Kim and Kwak2022). Park (Reference Park2024) analysed how traditional architectural forms were strategically employed during the 1989 construction of Cheongwadae to address multiple institutional requirements: establishing its authority as the nation’s supreme governmental institution while simultaneously symbolising democratic values and incorporating traditional elements to replace colonial-era structures while projecting modernity as an emblem of South Korea’s advancement.
Despite this rich body of research on Cheongwadae’s spatial and architectural history, little attention has been paid to its place identity, shaped by its construction and place-making processes, and to Cheongwadae as post-colonial heritage. In particular, debates following the opening of Cheongwadae in 2022, as the site began to transform into a public space, have revealed the complex nature of Cheongwadae as a post-colonial heritage site. This study therefore examines both the spatial transformation of Cheongwadae as a seat of national authority and its transition into a public site, focusing on the place identity of Cheongwadae as a product of post-colonial discourse.
Cheongwadae’s spatial transformation as nation-building in the post-colonial context
Before 1989: from a royal palace garden to an enclosed seat of power
The site of Cheongwadae originated as part of the royal precinct during the Goryeo Dynasty (918–1392) and served as a ceremonial ground associated with political loyalty and virtue throughout the Joseon period. It hosted Hoemaengdan, where meritorious retainers held alliance ceremonies (Sin Reference Sin2014), and later, by the mid-Joseon period, the area housed royal shrines such as Yuksanggung. Under King Gojong’s reconstruction of Gyeongbokgung Palace (1865–1868), the area was integrated into the royal palace complex, and key structures such as Gyeongmudae (the flat courtyard between Yungmundang and Yungmudang, sometimes referring to the whole area), Yungmundang (a pavilion for civil service examinations), Yungmudang (a pavilion for military service examinations), Gyeongnongjae (a site for royal farming rituals), Owunjeong (a rear garden pavilion), and Sugung (a guardian pavilion) were established to support state ceremonies and agricultural rites (Jung Reference Jung2016; Kim Reference Kim2022b; CHA 2022b). Thus, what had originated as a royal ceremonial and ritual site gradually became part of an institutionalised precinct of dynastic authority, symbolising both political legitimacy and the sacred order of the monarchy.
During Japanese colonial rule, this former royal precinct was appropriated and transformed into a space of colonial governance. Following the construction of the JGGB within Gyeongbokgung in 1926, the Cheongwadae area was transformed into an administrative and residential enclave for colonial elites (Song et al. Reference Song, Kim and Choi2014). The 1915 Chōsen Industrial Exhibition and the 1929 exhibition further redefined the site’s role, as several palace structures were relocated or converted into exhibition and entertainment facilities. The culmination of this transformation came with the construction of the Governor-General’s residence in 1939 and its annexe in 1943, both overlooking the colonial capital (CHA 2022b). These projects physically inscribed imperial control onto the terrain: retaining walls were built, watercourses were rerouted, and a private road was constructed to connect the residence to the city’s administrative network (Song et al. Reference Song, Kim and Choi2014). The former royal garden was thus converted into a secluded space of authority – an emblem of colonial domination expressed through landscape and architecture.
After Korea’s liberation in 1945, Cheongwadae became the residence of U.S. military commander John R. Hodge. From 1948, it served as the South Korean presidential office and residence. Despite the transition from colonial to national rule, the spatial configuration remained largely unchanged, with only minor additions, such as U.S. military barracks (Jeong Reference Jeong1967). Until 1960, Cheongwadae was called Gyeongmudae, Footnote 8 but after the April Revolution of 1960, it began to be referred to as Cheongwadae, symbolising the end of the dictatorial regime (Chosun Ilbo 1960). Following the North Korean armed infiltration in 1968,Footnote 9 Cheongwadae was completely closed off from the public (Maeil Business Newspaper 1968). Its image as a “fortress of power” deepened, earning the nickname Gujunggungwol – literally, “a palace sealed by numerous gates”. In 1969, the original Governor-General’s residence was expanded, and Cheongwadae’s boundaries were redefined, separating it from Gyeongbokgung Palace. The State-Owned Property Act of 1970 formalised its separation, redefining boundaries and authorising the construction of gates, guard posts, and widening of roads that physically reinforced its enclosure (Kang and Song Reference Kang and Song2015).
By the late twentieth century, Cheongwadae had become the seat of the nation’s highest authority – an inaccessible symbol of the state, defined by its physical and symbolic distance from the public, with visits restricted to special occasions such as the president’s birthday or Children’s Day (Donga Ilbo 1955; Chosun Ilbo 1961; Kyunghyang Newspaper 1962). Throughout this period, the spatial continuity of enclosure revealed how political power in South Korea was repeatedly visualised through control, seclusion, and restricted visibility.
The post-colonial vision and spatial politics since 1989
Decolonisation efforts after 1987 also reshaped the spatial politics of Seoul and Cheongwadae, the presidential office and residence. The 1989 Cheongwadae Master Plan, developed under the Roh Tae-Woo administration (1988–1993), which emerged after the end of military dictatorship, marked the beginning of a decolonial reconfiguration of the capital city. It aimed to redefine the symbolic and spatial order of Seoul by re-establishing the historical continuity between the Joseon royal capital and the modern democratic republic. This initiative was later inherited by the Kim Young-Sam government (1993–1998), whose Correcting the Past campaign sought to erase colonial vestiges, restore the Gyeongbokgung Palace, and revive the status of Seoul as the historic capital of the Joseon Dynasty.
Originally the rear garden of the royal palace in the late Joseon Dynasty, this area became physically and symbolically severed from the palace with the construction of the Governor-General’s residence during the Japanese colonial period. This separation was further deepened after the 1968 North Korean infiltration incident, which led to the complete closure of Cheongwadae. In this context, the 1989 plan sought to symbolically reconnect Cheongwadae with Gyeongbokgung and the historic urban fabric of Seoul, thereby reintegrating it into the city’s geomantic and spatial order.
A newspaper article published after the completion of the main building in 1989 described this intent as follows:
Cheongwadae’s main building was completed exactly two years after its groundbreaking on 22 July 1989. It was built along an axis connecting Bugaksan Mountain, Gyeongbokgung, Gwanghwamun (the main gate of Gyeongbokgung), and Gwanaksan Mountain, symbolising the revival of the old Fengshui (geomantic) energy flow (Donga Ilbo 1991).
The term “old Fengshui energy flow” refers to the geomantic belief in the connection between Seoul’s main mountains, Bugaksan and Gwanaksan (Kim Reference Kim2022a). The Japanese colonial administration’s alterations to Seoul were believed to have disrupted this energy, a concept known as the geomantic disconnection theory (Choi Reference Choi2004; Kim Reference Kim2007). Thus, the new master plan represented both a political and symbolic attempt to restore the national identity of the post-colonial capital (Lee Reference Lee2019).
In detail, the 1989 master plan aligned Cheongwadae’s main building along the axis of the Sinmumun Gate and positioned the official residence in line with Gwanghwamun and Geunjeongjeon, creating both spatial and visual connections with Gyeongbokgung. The main building was constructed in a straight line extending from the axis of the Sinmumun Gate of Gyeongbokgung (see Figures 1 and 2), and from the path behind the official residence, one could see from Gwanghwamun Gate to Sejong-daero Street at a glance (see Figure 3).
The spatial and visual connection between Cheongwadae and Gyeongbokgung.
Source: created by the author; base map: Aerial Photo of National GeographicInformation Institute (accessed July 14, 2024. https://www.ngii.go.kr/).
Figure 1. Long description
This figure presents an annotated satellite image of central Seoul showing the relationship between Gyeongbokgung Palace and Cheongwadae. Gyeongbokgung Palace occupies the center of the image, while Cheongwadae is located immediately north of the palace at the foot of Bugaksan Mountain. The Main Building of Cheongwadae is situated northwest of the presidential residence. A red line connects Sinmumun Gate, located at the northern edge of Gyeongbokgung Palace, with the Main Building, illustrating a spatial connection between the two sites. A yellow line extends northward from Sejong-daero through the central axis of Gyeongbokgung Palace toward the presidential residence, indicating a visual connection. Major landmarks, including Sejong-daero, Gyeongbokgung Palace, Sinmumun Gate, the Main Building, and the presidential residence, are labeled on the image.
Cheongwadae’s main building as seen from Sinmumun Gate, the north gate of Gyeongbokgung.
Source: Photographed by the author, 10 May 2024.
Figure 2. Long description
Photograph taken from inside the stone archway of Sinmumun Gate at Gyeongbokgung Palace. The gate’s wooden doors and painted ceiling frame a view toward the blue-roofed main building of Cheongwadae in the distance. Trees line the foreground, and Bugaksan Mountain rises behind the building. The image illustrates how the main building of Cheongwadae was positioned along the central axis extending northward from Sinmumun Gate.
View of Sejong-ro and the Seoul cityscape from the Cheongwadae Residence.
Source: Photographed by the author.
Figure 3. Long description
View of Sejong-ro and the Seoul cityscape from the Cheongwadae Residence. The image illustrates the extensive visual connection from the rear of Cheongwadae to the historic and administrative core of Seoul.
The vision of connecting Seoul’s historic landmarks, as outlined in the 1989 master plan, was further strengthened by the Correcting the Past movement after 1993. President Kim Young-Sam began opening Cheongwadae to the public to link Cheongwadae and the city and removing colonial-era remnants, including the Governor-General’s residence, as part of the Correcting the Past movement. To commemorate Seoul’s 600th anniversary, the CHA launched the Gyeongbokgung restoration project in 1994, which aimed to restore lost pavilions and reinforce Seoul’s image as a “historic city” (CHA 1994, 2009). This project sought to redefine Cheongwadae as the “rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace”, a symbolic act of restoring dynastic continuity to the modern capital.
These changes continued until the early 2000s. The new master plan, created under the Kim Dae-Jung administration in 1998, included the creation of a new plaza in front of the Yeongbingwan and the installation of a public gallery and a Yonggo (a traditional Korean-style drum historically used to convey public grievances or appeals) in front of Chunchugwan. Yeongbingwan Plaza commemorates the area’s origins as part of Gyeongbokgung’s rear garden, and it features the representation of the Samdo (three roads in front of the main hall of the Joseon Dynasty Palace) and Paldobaemi (Eight Provincial Farmland, a demonstration farm representing Korea’s eight provinces), where the king traditionally cultivated crops. Figure 4 shows the newly designed layout of Yeongbingwan ceremonial plaza and the original Paldobemi in the rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace, and Figure 5 shows the information board of Paldobemi, which describes the design concept of Yeongbinggwan Ceremonial Plaza in detail.Footnote 10 This spatial configuration remains largely intact today, maintaining Cheongwadae’s dual identity as both a political landmark and a reconstructed heritage site representing the historical continuity of the capital.
Site plan of Yeongbinggwan Ceremonial Plaza & Paldobaemi in the Rear Garden of Gyeongbokgung palace.
Source: CHA 2022b.
Information board for the Yeongbinggwan Ceremonial Plaza inspired by Paldobaemi, a demonstration farm of Korea’s eight provinces.
Source: Photographed by the author, 9 May 2024.
Thus, the spatial transformation of Cheongwadae reached a turning point around 1989. After the construction of the Government-General official residences in 1926, the site was reorganised as a locus of Japanese colonial authority. Following liberation, it evolved mainly through functional expansion – as both the presidential office and residence – with a focus on strengthening its boundaries for security purposes. However, after 1989, the working and residential spaces were separated, and new buildings were constructed to emphasise a strong axial composition and traditional aesthetics, reinforcing its symbolism as the space of supreme national authority. The changes that took place after 1993 can also be understood as an extension of the transformations initiated after 1989. Figure 6 illustrates Cheongwadae’s spatial transformation from 1896 to 2008, highlighting its physical evolution from a colonial governor-general’s facilities to the South Korean presidential complex through several phases.
Spatial changes of Cheongwadae (1896–2008).
Source: Created by the author; map adapted from CHA (2022b).
Figure 6. Long description
Panel 1896-1926: A map showing the Gyeongmudae area, Gyeongnongiae area, and Owunjeong area. Panel 1926-1945: A map showing the Governor-General’s Residence and Residential Quarters for the Japanese Governor-General. Panel 1945-1972: A map showing office buildings for the Presidential Building. Panel 1972-1989: A map showing Yeongbingwan (The State Guest House). Panel 1989-1993: A map showing the Main Building, Presidential Residence, and Chuncchugwan. Panel 1993-2008: A map showing Paldobaemi.
Visualising tradition: constructing national identity through architecture
The architectural design of Cheongwadae serves as a material transition of the post-colonial spatial vision established after the 1989 Master Plan, the architectural design of Cheongwadae translated this political discourse into visual and material form. As Lawrence J. Vale noted, post-colonial capital sought to express national identity through the design and construction of government buildings (Vale Reference Vale2008, 61). Cheongwadae exemplifies this tendency, with its architectural style reflecting the symbolism of a national space shaped by democratic aspirations. According to the 1992 Cheongwadae Construction Records, the main buildings were intended to create a bright and progressive atmosphere that aligns with democratic ideals, showcasing national pride through the use of Korean technology, materials, and architectural styles (Presidential Office 1992).
The infusion of traditional architecture into national ceremonial spaces has historical roots. The defining characteristic of this period was the “concrete Hanok, Footnote 11 hybrid style, which expressed traditional Joseon aesthetics through modern materials such as reinforced concrete and steel. This approach followed a trajectory set by the 1960s reconstruction of Gwanghwamun and the construction of the National Museum of Korea and Yeongbinggwan Footnote 12 (the State Guest House). Although the Yeongbinggwan (Figure 7a)Footnote 13 rebuilt within the Cheongwadae compound in 1978 was not a “concrete Hanok” in a strict structural sense, it was rhetorically framed as an embodiment of traditional Korean styles and the use of domestic materials (Lee et al. Reference Lee, Seo, Kim, Ahn and Kuk2023). By the early 1990s, structures like the Main Building (Figure 7b), Chunchugwan (Figure 7c), and the Presidential Residence (Figure 7d) institutionalised this hybridity. They were designed in a traditional Hanok style to evoke Korean imagery while incorporating modern materials like reinforced concrete, glass fibre-reinforced concrete, and steel to accommodate contemporary ceremonial functions (Presidential Office 1992, 2019; Park Reference Park2024). This juxtaposition was an intentional strategy to shape the nation’s international image to appeal to both the domestic and Western consumers (Vale Reference Vale2008, 60).
(a) Yeongbinggwan; (b) Cheongwadae’s main building; (c) Chunchugwan; (d) Presidential Residence.
Source: (a) National Archives of Korea 1985; (b) and (c) (d) Presidential Security Service 2019.
The construction of these traditional-style landmarks was inextricably linked to the Correcting the Past movement. A critical moment in this narrative was the demolition of the Governor-General’s residence, which had previously served as the main building of Cheongwadae, even before the Governor-General’s Office was taken down. By physically removing this colonial vestige, restoring the topography and erecting the monument replicating the rock inscription Cheonhajeilbokji (meaning the best place in the world), the state sought to sever ties with a traumatic past and reclaim territorial legitimacy (Chosun Ilbo 1993). Ultimately, the architectural transformation of Cheongwadae in the 1990s represented an effort by specific regimes to secure political legitimacy (Geertz Reference Geertz1973; Vale Reference Vale2008, 59). By replacing colonial-era structures with high-tech reinterpretations of traditional styles, the state projected a narrative of historical continuity and sovereign identity.
Dilemmas in reshaping Cheongwadae as post-colonial heritage: a place identity as the “lost kingdom” or “modern Korea”
While the previous chapter examined the spatial transformation of Cheongwadae from a post-colonial perspective, this chapter turns to its opening and the relocation of the presidential office – a recurring political pledge since 1987 (Chosun Ilbo 1987; Donga Ilbo 1992) that, however, remained unrealised due to practical and budgetary constraints until 2022. In this context, in 1988 the symbolic opening of the road in front of Cheongwadae and several event-based public openings signalled the end of military dictatorship, after which Cheongwadae was gradually opened to the public, with public access further expanded under President Kim Young-Sam (Bureau of Public Information 1993 ; Hankook Ilbo 2022a). From 1993 onwards, successive administrations also explored the possibility of leaving Cheongwadae and relocating the presidential office to nearby sites such as the Government Complex Seoul or even to the newly planned administrative capital of Sejong City. Cheongwadae was widely regarded as a symbol of the imperial presidency, and debates over relocation were also influenced by perceptions that the site was geomantically inauspicious and by its historical origin as the residence of the Japanese Governor-General during the colonial period. However, these proposals were ultimately not realised due to security concerns and the requirement of approval from the National Assembly (Kyunghyang newspaper 2022; Nocut News 2022b).
On 27 January 2022, presidential candidate Yoon Suk-Yeol unexpectedly pledged to relocate the presidential office and open Cheongwadae – a promise realised upon his inauguration on 10 May 2022, despite insufficient administrative and spatial preparation (Hankook Ilbo 2022b). The areas opened to the public included the north gate of Gyeongbokgung Palace (Shinmumun) and Bukaksan, the mountain behind Cheongwadae.
Simultaneously, Cheongwadae became a subject of intense debate in South Korea, with experts and citizens expressing diverse opinions on its transformation into a public space. The reshaping of Cheongwadae as post-colonial heritage did not occur as a neutral process but as a series of negotiations among multiple actors − politicians, bureaucrats, scholars, and the public – each driven by distinct motivations and visions of the nation’s past.
Redefining Cheongwadae as the “rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace”
Building upon the post-colonial perspective exemplified by the Correcting the Past campaign, Cheongwadae began reclaiming its identity in the mid-1990s. CHA’s Gyeongbokgung project since 1994 aimed to restore the lost pavilions of Gyeongbokgung Palace and reframe Cheongwadae as its “rear garden” (CHA 1994, 2009). Under President Roh Moo-Hyun, restoration efforts in the northern area of Gyeongbokgung Palace – relatively close to Cheongwadae – included opening the Jibokjae Royal Library to the public and restoring Geoncheonggung. In parallel, academic research began to emphasise Cheongwadae’s historical role as the rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace, highlighting its colonial past and the need for restoration (Jung Reference Jung2016; Kim Reference Kim2022b; Song et al. Reference Song, Kim and Choi2014).
These movements were driven by the generation engaged in post-colonial nation-building – many of whom had directly experienced Japanese colonial rule or the authoritarian regimes that followed. As anti-colonial nationalists and policymakers, they sought to eliminate the remnants of Japanese imperialism and to restore national symbolic spaces as part of a broader project of decolonisation. This nationalist aspiration was also reflected in the goal of redefining Cheongwadae as the “rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace”, positioning it within a decolonial framework that viewed colonial heritage as something to be removed or corrected.
However, from the early 2000s, critical reflections began to emerge on the Correcting the Past campaign of the Kim Young-Sam administration, which was increasingly criticised for relying on collective anti-Japanese nationalism and losing balance in historical interpretation (Kim Reference Kim2007). These critiques opened the way for a more complex and reflexive understanding of post-colonialism during the subsequent administrations of Kim Dae-Jung (1998–2003) and Roh Moo-hyun (2003–2008). Within this context, new generations of policymakers and scholars led discussions on opening Cheongwadae and its surrounding areas to dismantle the spatial symbolism of the military regime’s power. At the same time, colonial-period remains began to be managed as Registered Cultural Property, signalling a gradual rupture in the earlier view that colonial heritage should simply be erased as vestiges of Japanese rule.
Changes also appeared in the CHA’s Gyeongbokgung Restoration Project. From its initial establishment in 1994 to its revision in 2005, the project recognised Cheongwadae as the rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace and regarded it as a long-term area for restoration. However, in the Second Master Plan of 2008, Cheongwadae was no longer included within the designated restoration area. Nevertheless, references to Cheongwadae as the “rear garden” remained, suggesting that although practical limitations prevented its inclusion in the restoration scope, the perception of Cheongwadae as part of Gyeongbokgung’s historical landscape persisted within heritage policy (CHA 2020).
Naming politics of Cheongwadae: “Cheongwadae” or the “rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace”?
Following the opening of Cheongwadae in May 2022, the CHA, which had been responsible for managing the site, sought to designate Cheongwadae as a “Historic Site” under the name “the Rear Garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace”. This decision was in line with the spatial vision that had originated in the 1990s, which framed Cheongwadae as part of Gyeongbokgung’s northern garden area.
The move by the CHA was partly a response to the confusion caused by the unprepared opening and the absence of a clear plan for reuse, as well as to growing administrative conflicts with the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism (MCST). Following disputes over the MCST’s plan to create an art complex, the CHA actively reintroduced the term “rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace” as a strategy to strengthen preservation policy and assert its administrative authority over the site.
According to the chairs of the Modern Heritage Subcommittee and the Historic Sites Subcommittee of the CHA,Footnote 14 the MCST’s announcement was perceived as a potential threat to the preservation of Cheongwadae. In response, the CHA’s Cultural Heritage Committee and labour unions opposed the plan and advocated for Cheongwadae to be designated as a Historic Site subject to stricter preservation standards than those of Registered Cultural Heritage (Hangyeorye Newspaper 2022; Maeil Business Newspaper 2022b; Segye Ilbo 2022).
As a result, the CHA decided to manage Cheongwadae as a Designated Cultural Heritage site, specifically a Historic Site, and to integrate it within the protection system of Gyeongbokgung Palace as part of a unified historical landscape (CHA 2022a). Heritage experts from the Korean Architectural History Society also launched the Preliminary Research on the Rear Garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace project (September–December 2022), which aimed to reinforce Cheongwadae’s identity as the rear garden and reinterpret it as a post-colonial heritage site. This position was further supported by architectural historian Ahn Chang-Mo, who emphasised Cheongwadae’s historical origins as part of Gyeongbokgung’s rear garden and recognised it as a key site in modern Korean history reflecting King Gojong’s efforts to strengthen state governance (Nocut News 2022b).
However, within the CHA there were differing perspectives on how Cheongwadae should be interpreted and managed. In the early stage of discussions in 2022, some officials emphasised Cheongwadae’s value as a “modern historical and cultural space”, highlighting its significance as the centre of modern political authority (Chosun Ilbo 2022a). The CHA’s Modern Cultural Heritage Department initially proposed a master plan that modelled the site after US historical parks such as the Independence National Historical Park in Philadelphia or the Freedom Trail in Boston. Research Director Kim Jung-hyun argued that Cheongwadae’s concrete hanok buildings possessed historical authenticity and could serve as cultural attractions if integrated with Joseon-era relics. Similarly, Yoon In-Seok, the former chair of the CHA’s Modern Cultural Heritage Committee, supported designating Cheongwadae as a “Modern History and Culture District”, which would allow for heritage management in tandem with urban regeneration projects (Seoul Shinmun 2022).
These scholars and heritage professionals sought to frame Cheongwadae not as a royal garden but as a space of modern authority and democratic memory. However, amidst growing conflict with the MCST, these discussions soon lost ground within the CHA’s internal decision-making process, which gradually shifted towards interpreting Cheongwadae as the rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace. This shift was facilitated by the CHA’s hierarchical bureaucracy and a prevailing view that preventing reckless alteration of Cheongwadae should take precedence over debating its identity. Consequently, internal diversity was subsumed under a unified preservationist rationale legitimising strict protection through the historical framing of the rear garden.
MCST envisioned Cheongwadae as a “living” art complex symbolising Korea’s modern identity − an idea often likened to the Palace of Versailles. This plan included presidential storytelling in the main building, art exhibitions in Yeongbinggwan, and musical performances in the garden. The MCST also proposed reconstructing a model of the demolished main building as a trace of presidential cultural politics. Supported by fifty-five arts organisations, the ministry promoted the idea of an “art complex” that would connect Cheongwadae with Gyeongbokgung Palace, Seochon, and Bukchon, presenting it as a space to “heal the painful wounds of modern Korean history” and to symbolise the nation’s cultural maturity (Hangyeorye Newspaper 2022; Hankook Ilbo 2022b).
This vision contrasted sharply with the CHA’s heritage-based perspective. While the CHA traced Cheongwadae’s origins to the royal garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace, emphasising its pre-colonial historicity and the need for strict preservation, the MCST focused on its modern identity as a political and cultural site established after 1948. The two agencies thus differed not only in temporal framing – royal heritage versus modern governance – but also in their approaches to heritage management: the CHA prioritised protection of the “historicity of the site”, whereas the MCST pursued cultural utilisation.
However, in early 2023, the MCST – being the parent ministry of the CHA – took over Cheongwadae’s management, finally ending the dispute. The designation and terminology of “the rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace” were eliminated, and subsequent management adhered to the MCST’s plan for limited cultural use because the presidential office used the Yongbingwan and Sangchunjae for official functions owing to the absence of banquet halls at the new Yongsan location, limiting public access (Chosun Ilbo 2022c; Sisain 2023). Following this transfer of authority, the earlier debates over Cheongwadae’s naming and identity gradually subsided as administrative control shifted to the MCST.
The naming politics surrounding Cheongwadae reveal the shifting power dynamics between the CHA and the MCST, whose competing visions – preservation versus cultural utilisation – shaped the site’s post-colonial heritage discourse. At the same time, the identity of Gyeongbokgung’s Rear Garden, emphasised by the CHA and heritage experts, illustrates how post-colonial heritage practices can selectively reconstruct history – privileging pre-colonial continuity while eliding uncomfortable periods such as Japanese colonial rule – to reinforce the historical legitimacy of the nation–state. Thus, although the naming politics of Cheongwadae marked an important moment in interpreting the site from a post-colonial perspective, the issue appears to have been addressed through South Korea’s administrative processes without sufficient public deliberation or open decision-making. Consequently, as the presidential office began once again to use parts of the Cheongwadae compound after November 2025, the initial visions of “heritagisation” and “art complex development” proposed after the 2022 opening have, at least for the time being, been postponed rather than realised.
Cheongwadae as a site of collective memory
The failure of the CHA to redefine Cheongwadae as the “Rear Garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace” cannot be attributed solely to administrative pressure from its parent ministry, the MCST. Beneath this outcome lay a more complex layer – one shaped not only by a desire to decolonise and restore the spatial order of the Joseon Dynasty but also by public perceptions that valued Cheongwadae’s present meaning and contemporary use. This section explores these layers of public perception and collective memory to examine how Cheongwadae has been reinterpreted as a meaningful space in contemporary society.
The long inaccessibility of Cheongwadae had fuelled intense public curiosity about its interior, leading to an overwhelming response once it opened. By midnight on 12 May 2022 – just fifteen days after its opening – over 2.3 million people had applied for reservations (Maeil Business Newspaper 2022a). By April 2024, Cheongwadae had welcomed 5,457,363 visitors, approximately 10% of South Korea’s population (Chosun Ilbo 2024a). Notably, nearly half of these visitors came within the first two weeks, reflecting the unprecedented intensity of public interest in the formerly restricted presidential compound.
At the same time, Cheongwadae’s opening sparked intense public debate across South Korea, as experts and citizens expressed divergent views on the relocation of the presidential office and the future use of the site. Experts and bureaucrats who had participated in post-colonial heritage discussions – many of whom belonged to generations shaped by anti-colonial or authoritarian experiences – played key roles in these debates. Some emphasised the site’s symbolic position behind the Joseon Dynasty’s main palace, aligned along the axis from Bugaksan Mountain to Namsan Mountain (Ham Reference Ham2022), and its historical significance extending back to the Goryeo Dynasty. Others focused on whether the site was auspicious or inauspicious from a geomantic perspective (Yeonhap News 2022), as well as its role as the president’s forbidden residence. Still others associated the site with negative memories, such as the April Revolution shootings (Nocut News 2022b).
Meanwhile, stakeholders outside the heritage field – particularly architects and the tourism industry – proposed alternative visions for Cheongwadae’s future. Architectural organisations such as the Architectural Institute of Korea and the Korean Institute of Architects argued for sustainable utilisation through selective functional adaptation, including reusing the official residences for foreign dignitaries and converting the main building into a museum. Architect Kim Ji-han, director of the Korean Institute of Architects, further proposed revitalising Cheongwadae as a historical and cultural landmark by linking it with nearby traditional districts such as Seochon and Bukchon to form a cohesive urban heritage zone (Hankook Ilbo 2022a).
The tourism sector emphasised the site’s potential as a new cultural destination. The MCST announced plans to develop Cheongwadae into a multifunctional tourism and cultural hub integrating K-culture with urban tourism, increasing its budget by 249% in 2022 to transform Sarangchae into a tourism information centre connecting Gwanghwamun Square and Gyeongbokgung Palace (The Asia Business Daily 2022). These proposals reflected a broader tendency to prioritise contemporary use and economic value over strict preservation, highlighting the transformation of Cheongwadae from a closed site of political authority to an accessible urban cultural asset.
Debates over the use of Cheongwadae persisted in political circles, often framed as a choice between “colonial remnants” and “the degradation of presidential authority”. The MCST’s plans to create an architectural model of the former Governor-General’s residence and to host a Vogue Korea fashion shoot inside Cheongwadae drew strong criticism. The media and opposition parties compared these actions to the Japanese colonial transformation of Changgyeonggung Palace into a theme park, arguing that they disregarded Cheongwadae’s historical significance (Chosun Ilbo 2022b). The MCST’s proposal to construct an architectural model of the former main building was also criticised for “reviving colonial remnants” (Segye Ilbo 2022). In response to criticism about reviving colonial remnants, MCST chose to reproduce the appearance from when it was used and expanded by the President of the Republic of Korea, following the post-colonial heritage approach of the late twentieth century that emphasised correcting the past and reclaiming national identity (Figure 8).
Old main building model prepared by the MCST.
Source: Photographed by the author, 19 June 2024.
Such controversies were largely raised by the opposition Democratic Party. Yet despite these political disputes, the general public continued to visit Cheongwadae in large numbers, perceiving it less as a contested political symbol than as a recreational and cultural space.
For most citizens, the primary interest in Cheongwadae lay in their curiosity about the once-hidden presidential space. According to the survey Awareness and Satisfaction of Cheongwadae Visitors (CHA 2022a), more than 36% of respondents cited curiosity about the “president’s workspace” as their main reason for visiting. The next most common responses were “because it was being opened to the public for the first time” and “interest in its historical significance in connection with Gyeongbokgung Palace”. Regarding Cheongwadae’s future use, the survey revealed that 40.9% of visitors preferred preserving its original form, while 22.4% favoured developing it into a modern historical and cultural space (CHA 2022a). These results suggest that public perceptions of Cheongwadae are rooted in collective memory – as both a space of state power and a personal site of curiosity and memory for ordinary citizens.
The 2023 visitor survey reflected this public response and revealed distinct generational differences in perception. Unlike the initial response in 2022, only 6% of respondents reported visiting Cheongwadae solely to view the site itself, while a vast majority (84.5%) indicated that their visit was part of a broader tour of central Seoul. This suggests that visitors increasingly perceive Cheongwadae not as a historical or political symbol, but as one of many urban tourism destinations. The trend was particularly evident among younger generations: only 3.2% of visitors in their twenties and none in their thirties reported visiting Cheongwadae alone, indicating a stronger tendency among younger cohorts to experience the site as part of a leisure itinerary rather than as an independent heritage destination.
Generational contrasts also appeared in the motivations for visiting. While the item “because it represents the highest political authority of the Republic of Korea” ranked only sixth overall, respondents in their fifties and older rated it above four points, reflecting a stronger awareness of Cheongwadae’s political symbolism. In contrast, preferences for future facilities differed markedly by age. The most popular response overall was “exhibition of historical relics and materials” (37%), but this rose sharply to 52.4% among visitors aged sixty and above. Meanwhile, 25.8% of respondents in their twenties prioritised cultural and artistic programmes – more than twice the overall average. (Korea Transport institute 2023)
These findings demonstrate a nuanced generational shift in the perception of Cheongwadae. While older generations still recognise the site’s historical and political significance, they also actively embrace it as a public and recreational space. Younger generations, on the other hand, tend to view Cheongwadae primarily as an urban cultural and leisure venue, detached from its former political connotations. With the emergence of millennials and younger visitors – who have not directly experienced post-colonial or authoritarian eras – as the main users of the site, the place identity of Cheongwadae has become increasingly depoliticised and reinterpreted through everyday urban experiences.
In this way, the senses of place surrounding Cheongwadae after its opening were both shaped and curated by diverse stakeholders. The efforts of heritage experts – particularly from the older generation – to redefine Cheongwadae as a post-colonial site ultimately failed. Instead, the public came to perceive Cheongwadae simultaneously as the former presidential residence and as one of Seoul’s major public spaces and urban landmarks. Although the idea that Cheongwadae once served as the rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace was widely circulated through various media, the narrative of restoring a space damaged during the Japanese colonial period no longer resonated strongly with the public. This shift underscores how, in the 2020s, Cheongwadae has come to embody the complex meanings of post-colonial heritage in contemporary South Korea.
Discussion: Cheongwadae as the representative place of post-colonial South Korea
Cheongwadae’s transformation reflects South Korea’s unique approach to managing colonial heritage, which differs from that of other Asian cities like Hong Kong and Taiwan. For instance, in Taiwan, certain buildings from the colonial period have been restored with a sense of nostalgia – such as the Yanshui School Shrine in Tainan (Amae Reference Amae2011) – and, unlike in South Korea, the Taiwanese government continues to use the former Governor-General’s Office and the Governor’s Residence constructed during the Japanese Empire. While these cities often preserve and commodify colonial architecture through nostalgia, South Korea has tended to emphasise demolition of colonial structures and restoration of pre-colonial structures. This distinctive path reveals the complex dilemmas in post-colonial nation-building.
The interpretation of Cheongwadae in a post-colonial perspective embodies three key issues: (1) the treatment of colonial legacy, (2) the representation of national identity, and (3) contested place identities.
First, in South Korea, addressing post-colonial projects often involves demolishing colonial structures and restoring pre-colonial Joseon Dynasty sites. A key example is Gyeongbokgung Palace, which has various identities shaped by the selective restoration of aspects of the past. Colonial-era buildings, including the JGGB, have been demolished in Seoul since the 1990s to preserve Joseon Dynasty sites and to carry out restorations based on historical verification. Restoration projects have expanded beyond the palace sites since the 2000s. Colonial relics are perceived as obstacles to forming a national identity while restoring the palace’s original appearance and evoking a sense of traditional history (Ministry of Culture and Sports 1997) (Figure 9). Similarly, from 1989 to the early 2000s, at Cheongwadae, colonial-era buildings were demolished and replaced with new ones that reflected a renewed national identity. This phenomenon clearly illustrates the post-colonial discourse grounded in anti-Japanese imperialism that emerged in South Korea after 1987.
Urban restoration model of Gyeongbokgung Palace and Yukjo Street made by the MCST and National Museum of Korea ([Right] the Joseon Dynasty [Left] Japanese colonial period).
Source: MCST 1997.
Figure 9. Long description
Panel A: An aerial view of Gyeongbokgung Palace and Yukjo Street during the Joseon Dynasty. The layout shows traditional Korean architecture and urban planning, with distinct buildings and streets arranged in a structured manner. Panel B: An aerial view of Gyeongbokgung Palace and Yukjo Street during the Japanese colonial period. The layout shows significant changes in architecture and urban planning, reflecting the influence of colonial structures and modifications.
Second, the 1989 master plan for Cheongwadae demonstrates how South Korea sought to construct national identity through architecture and site planning informed by post-colonial discourse rooted in anti-Japanese imperialism. The plan incorporated two key strategies: establishing a symbolic axis linking Cheongwadae with Gyeongbokgung and Gwanghwamun to create spatial historical continuity and integrating traditional architectural elements with modern construction methods in the newly built structures. The plan for the plaza in front of the State Guest House, as an extension of the master plan from 1998, physically and visually connected to South Korea’s pre-colonial narratives while asserting modern sovereignty. Thus, in the post-colonial context, architecture and site planning became powerful tools for asserting national identity and political legitimacy by reconfiguring the colonial past and strategically linking spaces with their historical narratives. As a result, Cheongwadae can be understood as situated within a post-colonial cityscape that connects Gwanghwamun Square, Gyeongbokgung Palace, Bugaksan, and the Seoul City Wall, where the site embodies a dual identity: both the symbolic extension of the traditional royal palace landscape and a modern public space shaped by contemporary political history (Figure 10).
Analysis of the post-colonial cityscape in Seoul.
Source: Created by the author; map adapted from CHA (2022b).
Third, the debate over Cheongwadae’s place identity became prominent after its opening to the public, when the site began to be used as a public space. Since the 1990s, Cheongwadae had been given the identity of the rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace as part of the Gyeongbokgung restoration project; however, this remained largely a discussion limited to certain heritage-related actors. After the opening, however, the naming controversy between “Cheongwadae” and “the rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace” reflected the conflicts among stakeholders and the site’s multiple place identities. While the name “the rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace” originated in the post-colonial discourse of the late 1980s – seeking to restore the legitimacy of the royal dynasty from a nationalist perspective – the name “Cheongwadae” focused more on the site’s present meaning from a practical, contemporary viewpoint.
Cheongwadae’s transformation from a royal palace to a modern, authoritative space, and now to a public venue, reflects its complex and evolving identity. The place identity of Cheongwadae, which was chosen and interpreted after its opening, remains contentious, as this “plural place identity” has triggered conflicts, unveiling challenges in reconciling its diverse roles and meanings (Ashworth and Graham Reference Ashworth and Graham2005, 11). The gap between official intentions and public perceptions – as well as generational differences in understanding – further illustrates how Cheongwadae’s collective memory has shaped its character as a public space. In this broader and more complex sense, Cheongwadae exemplifies the multifaceted nature of post-colonial heritage in contemporary South Korea.
Ironically, South Korea’s political developments after December 2024 – including the declaration of martial law, the impeachment crisis, and the subsequent change of administration – brought an abrupt end to the three-year experiment of transforming Cheongwadae into a public space. From its sudden opening to its hasty spatial reconfiguration and the contested naming process, the evolution of Cheongwadae was largely driven by top-down decisions centred on the presidential office. In 2025, the new administration announced the restoration of the presidential office to Cheongwadae, effectively concluding this short-lived transition without a coherent long-term vision. As reports noted, many citizens once again rushed to visit Cheongwadae, fearing it might soon become inaccessible (Newsis 2025).
Ultimately, the opening of Cheongwadae – which cost a total of approximately 214.2 billion KRW (USD 155 million), including 83.2 billion KRW for the relocation to Yongsan, 105.1 billion KRW for maintenance, and an estimated 25.9 billion KRW for the return (Cho Reference Cho2025) – has often been criticised as a costly, short-term political show. Nevertheless, the three-year experience offered crucial insights into the public’s perception of Cheongwadae and their desire for open, democratic engagement with national heritage. It leaves an enduring question for future administrations: how can Cheongwadae, once an enclosed space of political authority, be reimagined as a democratic space of a post-colonial society?
Conclusion
Despite various attempts by democratic regimes to address the spatial structure of authoritarian power, such as relocating the presidential office or opening Cheongwadae to the public, meaningful transformation remains challenging. While the 2022 decision to relocate it from Cheongwadae had the advantage of partially restoring the national symbolic axis to public space, including Gwanghwamun Square, the top-down, hasty implementation led to various issues. CHA’s initial attempt to preserve Cheongwadae as the rear garden of Gyeongbokgung Palace and expand its historical site area might have been a regressive mistake. While symbolically significant, this initiative was constrained by insufficient consideration of the site’s historical layers. The complex layers of meaning embedded in Cheongwadae – as both a symbol of power and a cityscape connected to Gyeongbokgung Palace – require more thoughtful interpretation and broader public engagement in determining its future role. However, the transformation of Cheongwadae into a public space ceased after only three years, alongside the end of the Yoon Suk-Yeol administration, and the future direction of its openness and utilisation remains uncertain.
The spatial history of Cheongwadae can be seen as an effort to fabricate a version of the past (Lowenthal Reference Lowenthal2015, 15; Tunbridge and Ashworth Reference Tunbridge and Ashworth1996, 1–2), culminating in a post-colonial cityscape aimed at nationalising Seoul’s past. This post-colonial cityscape links Gwanghwamun Square, Gyeongbokgung Palace, Cheongwadae, Bugaksan Mountain, and Hanyangdoseong Fortress. Cheongwadae serves as an intermediary between new public spaces and restored traditional sites, highlighting the conflict between traditional restoration and the creation of new public spaces. The place-making of Cheongwadae is ongoing, and its final characteristics are yet to be determined.
This study examined place identities revealed through the place-making process of Cheongwadae in the context of a post-colonial context. First, historically, Cheongwadae has represented the place for the highest authority, from a royal palace to a modern authoritative space. Second, the construction of the current Cheongwadae space reveals that the dual approach (i.e. creating spatial connections to pre-colonial legacies and adopting traditional architectural styles with modern materials) served as a strategic tool in nation-building for the modern democratic republic. Third, after its opening in 2022, the plural identities of Cheongwadae – a legacy of a lost kingdom, a representative place of modern Korea, and a place totally closed off to the public – were defined through the debate of its preservation and utilisation.
Since 1987, South Korea’s post-colonial discourse, grounded in anti-Japanese imperialism, has primarily focused on removing the physical remnants of the colonial period or restoring pre-colonial Joseon-era heritage. However, the place-making process following the opening of Cheongwadae weakened this momentum and, instead, revealed the increasingly plural nature of South Korea’s post-colonial heritage.
This study focuses on this turning point in post-colonial discourse observed at Cheongwadae, aiming to identify its place identity and examine its significance within South Korea’s post-colonial narrative. Through this analysis, the study seeks to provide insights for future spatial planning and utilisation of Cheongwadae.
Acknowledgements
The author would like to thank Kwonjung Kim of the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism, and KyungRip Park and Insuk Yoon, former chairs of the National Heritage Committee, for generously sharing their knowledge and perspectives on the transformation and management of Cheongwadae. Special thanks are also due to Hyunkyung Lee for valuable discussions and suggestions that helped shape the ideas and structure of this article.
Competing interests
The authors declare no competing interests.
Open access
