During my years at Seoul City Hall, I visited many sites across the capital. I handled city policy in a range of departments — the Gangdong District Office, the Design Seoul headquarters and the Han River Project headquarters — and gained broad field experience. I still vividly remember pitching a tent at the scene of the Sampoong Department Store collapse for emergency duty.
Even in central Seoul, there were areas ordinary citizens could not easily enter. The Blue House was the prime example, and so was the Yongsan U.S. military base, which sat there like an uncharted island. In the early 2000s, when the relocation of the Yongsan base to Pyeongtaek was becoming a reality, I recall discussions about how to use the returned land. Recently there has been renewed debate over the Yongsan site. I hope the direction for its use will be decided only after full deliberation — restoring the damaged land while weighing both the functions the current generation demands and those the next generation will need.
Flanked by the Han River, Yongsan was a hub of water transport and logistics during the Joseon era, where people and goods converged. Immediately after the Russo-Japanese War in 1904, imperial Japan forcibly expropriated what is now the Yongsan base land to build a military installation, and Koreans living in the village were pushed down below Haebangchon, into what is now central Itaewon. As continental invasion accelerated in the 1930s, the Yongsan base expanded further, and new residential districts were needed to house military families and Japanese settlers.
It was then that Itaewon Cemetery came under consideration. Roughly a century ago, Gyeongseong had public cemeteries scattered across the city — in Ahyeon-dong, Miari and Itaewon. The Joseon order that had banned burials within 10 ri of the city walls, known as seongjeosimni, had long since broken down, and countless people who had passed through Gyeongseong were buried there. The broad cemetery grounds were prime development land. As large-scale relocation became unavoidable, a new public cemetery was created at Mangu-ri. It would later become the only public cemetery left in Seoul.
A Humble Headstone and Inscription That Stop You in Your Tracks
When I visited Mangu-ri Park before taking office as Jungnang district mayor in 2018, its significance was not widely known, despite the efforts of some citizens. Only the burial grounds of patriotic martyrs registered as cultural heritage were properly maintained; unmarked graves, such as the Itaewon Cemetery communal grave for the unclaimed, were left almost entirely neglected. The burial ground looked as though no one had tended it for years. The side path leading to the walking trail was a mire of mud, and the mounds seemed about to collapse. More than 28,000 unclaimed remains from Itaewon Cemetery were said to be buried there, yet only a moss-covered headstone spoke of the passing years.
I was told how the unclaimed graves came from Itaewon to Mangu-ri. During the development of Itaewon, remains whose families could not be identified were interred together here. The back of the headstone reads "December, the 11th year of Showa, Gyeongseong Prefecture" — a record that the colonial city government erected the stone in December 1936.
At the time, fewer than 5,000 graves at Itaewon Cemetery had confirmed family ties, while unclaimed graves numbered some 28,000 — a sign of how poorly the site was managed. It is a bleak picture of the circumstances of both the living and the dead under Japanese colonial rule. And to learn that the martyr Yu Gwan-sun lay among them made the case for not leaving the Itaewon communal grave as it was all the clearer. From that point, Jungnang District began, step by step, to restore the neglected graves and grounds and to create a space for remembrance.
Yu Gwan-sun: From an Unclaimed Communal Grave in Itaewon to Mangu History and Culture Park
Yu Gwan-sun, a name every Korean knows, was an independence activist buried without even a name, then rediscovered after liberation. She appears in textbooks, and songs and films have been made in her honor. Every March 1 and Aug. 15, we speak her name and pledge to remember her fervent longing for independence and her indomitable spirit of resistance. She is one of the independence activists who represent the Republic of Korea.
Imprisoned in 1919 after shouting for independence at the Aunae market, Yu did not stop resisting even behind bars, leading demonstrations inside the prison. On Sept. 28, 1920, she ended her short life in a cold cell. The cause was death by beating in prison. Ewha Haktang received her body only after persistent demands, and a full fortnight had passed. A funeral was held at Itaewon Cemetery and her body laid to rest there, but the Japanese authorities would not even allow a gravestone. Through the turbulent years that followed, keeping watch over the grave was no easy task for more than a decade.
The forgotten Yu Gwan-sun began to be rediscovered between 1946 and the early 1950s, led by Ewha Haktang. A mix of factors was at work — the school's reputation, political aims and the influence of mass media. She was posthumously awarded the Order of Merit for National Foundation, Independence Medal, in 1962, yet even then the exact location of her remains was unknown. In 2018, local historian Jeong Jong-bae forcefully raised and brought to public attention the possibility that her remains lay in the Itaewon Cemetery communal grave for the unclaimed. The Yu Gwan-sun Memorial Association, the Ewha Girls' High School alumnae association and the March 1 Women's Comrades Association accepted the argument and joined forces. Jungnang District joined the cause as well, and public interest gathered once more. The film "A Resistance" was released, and in 2019 Yu was posthumously awarded the Order of Merit for National Foundation, Grand Order class (Daehanminguk-jang), its highest grade.
In 2018, a marker stone for Yu Gwan-sun's communal burial was erected right beside the Itaewon Cemetery unclaimed-graves monument inside the park. The burial ground was then extensively restored, and spaces for remembrance were created one by one.
Yet restoring even a single burial ground brought more obstacles than expected. Because the ground straddles the boundary between Guri and Jungnang District, administrative responsibility was ambiguous, and the way the park itself was managed had fundamental limits.
At the time, the Seoul Metropolitan Government held authority over Mangu-ri Park, but in practice the funeral services division of the Seoul Facilities Management Corporation managed the site solely as a cemetery. Counting the graves and keeping the burial register was the whole of its management. Any attempt to do something more ran into that wall from the start.
I walked the grounds with Mayor Park Won-soon and told him this was a space that went beyond a cemetery. I stressed that the burial grounds designated as cultural heritage alone honor nine figures, and that some 100 historical figures whose names anyone would recognize — Park In-hwan, Bang Jung-hwan and Han Yong-un among them — rest here. I also explained that with its woods and walking trails, residents come here routinely to rest and exercise. Above all, I said that bringing out the park's many layers of value required moving beyond the limits of cemetery management. I conveyed the determination of Jungnang's 400,000 residents to tend the grounds with their own hands. The mayor readily agreed and gave his support. After nearly two years of revising ordinances and transferring budget and staff, Jungnang District was finally able to take over management authority.
The first thing we did after taking over was change the name. The Mangu-ri Public Cemetery became Mangu History and Culture Park. By putting history and culture front and center, we defined the park's character. To raise the park to match its new name, we have been improving the access road and restoring the burial grounds of patriotic martyrs and notable figures, beginning with Yu Gwan-sun. Because the Itaewon unclaimed-graves site where Yu is buried sits on a slope, we also built a large deck in front of it.
We later extended the deck to secure space where more than 50 people can gather for memorial ceremonies. We planted rose of Sharon nearby and hydrangeas and lilacs on the knoll below, improving the overall landscape. A history tour of Mangu History and Culture Park now begins at Yu Gwan-sun's burial ground. Jungnang District always comes here first — at the start of a new year, on March 1 and Aug. 15, and on any special day. And every year on Sept. 28, the day she died for her country, those who remember Yu Gwan-sun gather for a memorial service.
Uniting History, Culture and Forest Across Administrative Lines
What Mangu History and Culture Park is today is the result of a shift in thinking — viewing the park through the original meaning of the space rather than through administrative boundaries. Visitors do not ask who manages it, or whether the park belongs to Guri or to Seoul. Jungnang District treats the park as a single whole in its restoration work while cooperating administratively with Guri where needed.
Thanks to that, a park that once drew barely 30,000 visitors a year, most of them coming to tend family graves, welcomed 730,000 people last year. It has become a park where people learn history, reflect, enjoy cultural life and take walks. Guri has recently indicated it will actively join in improving basic infrastructure, and the two local governments are now jointly pursuing several projects, including the installation of a Statue of Peace. Administrative boundaries are lines drawn for the sake of efficiency; when it comes to creating spaces for residents, I believe there should be no boundaries at all.
We are also working to have the park designated a national urban park. Beyond its size of more than 1 million square meters, it holds the graves of three of the 33 national representatives of the March 1 Independence Movement — Han Yong-un, Park Hui-do and Oh Se-chang — and the burial grounds designated as cultural heritage alone honor nine figures. The major currents of Korea's modern history are layered, one upon another, in this single small hill. Designation as a national urban park would bring nationwide attention along with financial and administrative support from the central government. More citizens could rest here and reflect on history.
A People That Forgets Its History Has No Future
At the center of the park's transformation is Jungnang Mangu Space, which turned the old cemetery management office into an entirely new place. Embracing the surrounding landscape with both openness and natural elements, the building won a Seoul Architecture Award. Its first floor is a cafe; the second holds exhibition and education space and offices. In the cafe you can see all kinds of people enjoying the park — reading, drinking tea or having a light meal, talking warmly with friends. Access has improved as well, with a new bus stop and a free shuttle running between Yangwon and Sangbong stations.
Professor Yoo Hong-june has visited, as has National Assembly Speaker Woo Won-shik. The speaker said he came to Mangu History and Culture Park while looking for a place of remembrance, having found no way to locate the grave of his maternal grandfather, an independence activist. His remark stays with me — that he was proud such a historic and meaningful place remains in Seoul.
Our past is a history made by ordinary people who left no names behind. Illuminating, remembering and honoring their lives is the responsibility of those of us living today. In this place, which holds the full arc and warmth of our modern history, a great deal of sweat and devotion went into making it possible to remember and honor Yu Gwan-sun each year. It was possible because even a humble headstone survived, because this is the only public cemetery left in Seoul, and because of one person's persistence and a community's cooperation.
Cities keep changing as needs change. In that process, history and culture, once lost, are hard to recover. Preserving what remains and bringing out its meaning requires much discussion and effort. What should we leave behind and honor? Mangu History and Culture Park — a park residents visit often, an asset of the nation, a place honoring Yu Gwan-sun and other patriotic martyrs — is as good a place as any to share that conversation.
