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As the sun rose on a Monday morning over Myeong-dong, downtown Seoul, the eye was struck with horror. A whole alley in the popular shopping district was covered with meter-high rubble and scattered pieces of ruined streetside eateries and stores. Something beyond vandalism appeared to have occurred.
The photos which The Korea Times took (for its Jan. 18 story on the dispute between vendors and the Chinese school) before the, then, hasty clean-up seem to document the urban battlefield of an underground civil war, of sorts. Or am I overstating something which is quite "normal" in Seoul? Can everything be "explained?" The point is: yes and no.
Let's start with the Jung District Office, which oversees the administrative affairs of the popular commercial district that is Myeong-dong. The administration's priority to quickly remove all traces of the destruction in the dead of night, in cooperation even ― as observed by reporters ― with the construction workers who had executed the demolition, while devastated vendors received cold comfort, was justified as an urgent measure so as "to minimize inconvenience to the public." Apart from this hurried effort, the district office emphasized that it was not "involved" in the overnight action nor, at the same time, to be much engaged in compensating the victims.
Secondly, who did it? Well, we both know and we don't. The stalls were, instead of being removed, reduced to rubble by construction workers hired by the owner of the land. Now, the contested area is in part privately owned and in part public, but both a representative of the private owner and the city authorities said that they had not been "aware of a planned demolition", nor "notified of the operation in advance," respectively.
This is hardly surprising, as Korean law is here very clear: Even if the land use is disputed, no one has the right to damage property extrajudicially, let alone to demonstratively vandalize someone's livelihood. Anyone admitting responsibility would be financially and, most likely, criminally liable. Nor is it any wonder, for that matter, that "the workers" conducted the action, "without instruction" but certainly not without anyone's payment, under the veil of the night. Police could, of course, identify the responsible agents in a serious investigation, but will they? Not naming individual offenders, the stall owners' criminal reports will likely go nowhere, leaving the barbarity unpunished.
Anyone with any experience in Seoul neighborhood management will know what sort of "construction companies" threaten to pursue legal action, on behalf of elusive owners, backing up their "legal threats" with illegal practices. Partial secrecy is their trademark, while the honorable society prefers to ignore how decisions in its infrastructure are made and executed. But is it merely by accident that the powers of the night occasionally leave such massive traces of destruction visible to the public? Should we be reminded that civilization is only on the surface of the world?
Michael Bergmann (bergmann2473@yahoo.de) is a teacher in Seoul.