South Koreans at sword’s point over hero’s statue

Reporting from Seoul —  For four decades, the statue of Adm. Yi Sun-sin has gazed out from its pedestal in downtown Gwanghwamun Plaza, sheathed sword clutched proudly in the fighter’s right hand as he grasps the waistcoat of his battle uniform with the other.

The Joseon Dynasty naval commander who notched several victories over Japanese invaders in the late 16th century is considered, hands down, Korea’s greatest hero, rating numerous commemorative landmarks nationwide.

Here in the capital, residents and tourists alike gaze in awe at Yi’s towering effigy, with its backdrop of the presidential residence and northern mountains in the distance.

But not everyone approves.

Those critical of the statue ask: Isn’t the admiral’s armor, which hangs down to his feet, more Chinese in style? And the sword, they say, looks much more Japanese than Korean.

Perhaps worst of all, they note, Yi holds the sword sheath in his right hand, which in the Joseon era could have been considered a sign of defeat, not glorious victory.

A battle of words recently has raged in South Korea as historians and civic activists have called for the government to revise the statue. Defenders say the admiral is fine just the way he is. He reflects the artistic interpretation of the 1960s, they say.

Many observers point out that the controversy is driven by the power of national icons to affect new generations of admirers. But dissatisfied critics of the statue contend that the inaccuracies are comparable to having the Washington Mall’s Abraham Lincoln clutch a Confederate flag.

“This is the nation’s most symbolic statue, in the heart of Seoul,” said Lee Sang-keun, secretary-general of the Jogye Order of Korean Buddhism, which has led the criticism of Yi’s statue. “We shouldn’t present the wrong image of our greatest hero.”

The critics, who say they have spent years pointing out the statue’s historical discrepancies, insist that the issue has recently taken on new urgency. Last month, city officials removed the statue for some structural repairs, and Lee says that now is the best time for reconstruction rather than restoration.

Statue detractors point to other problems: Yi’s face is different from the portrait displayed in the admiral’s memorial complex in his hometown and on the 100-won coin. Also, a war drum lying at his feet doesn’t fit the image of a courageous battle leader.

“We have been trying to make a new statue of Admiral Yi for many years,” Lee said. “But now that the original statue was taken down, it’s the perfect timing.”

Defenders of Yi’s statue are equally passionate.

“When the statue was first commissioned, it was made by the current standards and practices, the historical perception at that time,” said historian Hwang Pyung-woo, director of the Korea Cultural Heritage Policy Research Institute. “Even bad history is history. We should leave it like it is.”

Hwang, though, has his own issues with Yi’s statue, which he says should sit on the road named after the wartime hero, not at the current site, which actually commemorates Joseon Dynasty ruler King Sejong. But Hwang calls those qualms minor.

As most South Korean schoolchildren are taught, Yi saved the country from the brink of collapse during the Japanese invasion of 1592 and is said to be among the few admirals who won every naval battle he fought.

Yi was killed Dec. 16, 1598. As he lay dying, he supposedly told aides, “Do not let my death be known,” because he feared the news would cause his men to lose morale.

Hwang says the complaints about the statue sully Yi’s legacy.

“An admiral can have a sword in his right hand; that doesn’t mean he’s a losing admiral,” he said. “And their claims that Yi holds a Japanese sword and is wearing Chinese armor have never been proven. There’s not one record to certify this. So I say, stop the finger-pointing.”

Still, the spat shows no sign of ending. Critics have asked Seoul officials for an official interpretation and have called for public hearings.

They say that the government decades ago saw the inaccuracies and planned a reconstruction, but that the idea was scrapped after the assassination of President Park Chung-hee in 1979.

Hwang waves his hand at such suggestions. He insists that the unaltered statue of Yi should retake its place at the heart of the 16-lane boulevard that is one of Seoul’s most scenic cityscapes.

“It’s selfish,” he said of the critics. “They want to alter the statue just so they can put their mark on history.”

john.glionna@latimes.com

Ethan Kim in The Times’ Seoul Bureau contributed to this report.