By Kim Ji-myung
Although I never studied at Harvard, I heard many years ago that every Harvard student learns two simple but useful questions among other things.
Question 1: The owner of a house or a building knows it better than anybody else. That means if s/he sells it, the purchaser may be ignorant to the property’s defects. In this relationship, the purchaser is in a disadvantageous position. As a result, why do people purchase a house or building?
Question 2: When their parents die, their offspring must divide the money and valuables. This could include expensive jewelry, art, porcelain tableware, silver cutlery, etc. However, if there are three or more children, how can the inheritance be shared fairly so that no one complains?
If you know the answers, you are unusually wise, and probably adept at finding solutions to everyday problems.
A recent report detailing the purchase of Korea’s first diplomatic building some 102 years after it was taken by Japan and then sold to an American reminds me of the first question. The Korean government recently agreed to buy the old legation building of the Korean Empire at 15 Logan Circle in Washington, D.C.
It was professor Kim Won-mo of Dankook University who, in 1983, discovered documents concerning the building in U.S. government archives in Washington. He was tracing the history of the legation building since 1982, the year that marked the centennial of Korea-U.S. diplomatic relations.
Journalist Park Bo-gyun of the JoongAng Ilbo daily wrote a book on this topic, arguing strongly that the Korean government must buy the building as a symbol of recovered sovereignty and national power
This Victorian-style building constructed in 1877 was purchased in 1891 and was used as the Korean legation until Japan colonized Korea in 1910.
King Gojong, the 26th king of the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910), spent a huge sum at the time ― $25,000 ― to buy the building in a desperate effort to enhance diplomatic ties with the U.S., which he believed had ``no territorial greed.”
But the records show that Japan took ownership of the building for just $5 in 1910 after annexing Korea and then sold it to an American for $10. These meaningless amounts were written on contracts as a mere formality. At the time, actual amounts were not revealed in such documents.
For decades, many efforts were made to recover the old legation building. Not only the South Korean government, but some Korean Americans tried to raise funds to purchase it. There was even a movement among Korean Christians to realize the deal. Over the years, several contacts were made with the owner to no avail.
Despite this collective desire to reclaim a piece of Korea’s history, differences remain on the building’s actual value among government ministries.
While the Cultural Heritage Administration pushed the deal forward, the Foreign Ministry has reportedly maintained that the price tag was too high. This isn’t surprising if the owner knows the building’s historic value to Koreans. So, how much is too much?
This question leads us back to that initial Harvard question. Despite the pitfalls inherent in real estate transactions, contracts are made everyday all over the world. Why? Because a property’s value is not fixed, objective or absolute; it can be discovered, re-developed, or newly created.
In this particular case, however, the building possesses great symbolic value to Koreans. The building is the only former overseas legation of the Korean Empire that has maintained its original form. It testifies to the desperate diplomatic efforts of a vulnerable country that was squeezed from all sides by imperialist Japan, Russia and China.
Today, the building also symbolizes Korea’s renewed sovereignty, and its strong position in the international community a century later. In this sense, the old legation has great historical and emotional value to the Korean people. As such, discussions of its future use reveal diverse possibilities.
One possibility is a museum detailing the history of the Korea-U.S. relationship. Other options include a cultural center of traditional Korean history and arts or a fine art gallery for talented young Korean artists. Depending on how the building is eventually utilized, the purchase price of $3.5 million, or more than $4 million including fees and other costs, could look like peanuts.
Of course, the worst-case scenario is that the building, like many publicly owned facilities, would eventually be underused or even forgotten. To ensure this does not occur, we need to develop a long-term plan with community participation that details its function, management and operation. Obviously, we also need a budget to maintain the building and organize programs.
A first step, I guess, will be to determine if the building, which is located in a residential area, can be zoned for public use. Through this process, I am sure that not only the Korean government, but Koreans at home and abroad, will learn about how we can recover a piece of our turbulent past and make it a significant space that showcases our modern history.
With regards to that second Harvard question, the answer is simple: let one sibling divide the items into groups of fairly equal value. Next, let the other siblings choose their lot. The items that remain will go to the sibling who divided it up in the first place. A simple solution, isn’t it?
The writer is the chairwoman of the Korea Heritage Education Institute (K*Heritage). Her email address is Heritagekorea21@gmail.com.