Seoul’s Mayor Seeks to Give His City a Makeover

On hazy days, this city looks like nothing as much as a bowl of poured concrete topped by a noxious yellow cloud. The surrounding mountainsides have been blasted away to build grim slabs of high-rise apartments with the names of the conglomerates Samsung or Hyundai stamped on the sides.

After being destroyed during the 1950-53 Korean War, Seoul was slapped back together in the 1960s and 1970s. The mantra was, do it fast, do it cheap.

Now one of the people responsible for paving over the city is trying to make amends.

And if anyone can do it, Lee Myung Bak can -- he’s the mayor. As chief executive of Hyundai in the 1970s and 1980s, Lee was responsible for much of the company’s work in rebuilding Seoul, going about it with such tenacity that he was nicknamed “the Bulldozer.”

“You have to remember, in the 1960s and 1970s, we were just starting to rise above the ruins of war. You couldn’t find a skyscraper in the whole country; there were few cars,” Lee said.

“We built cookie-cutter buildings. The only concern was getting as many people as possible into as little space.

“We now find ourselves regretting some of the choices we made back then,” he said.

Topping the list of architectural atrocities was a 3 1/2 -mile elevated highway built, largely by Hyundai, on top of what had been a stream. Two years ago, Lee had it demolished to restore the Cheonggye waterway.

The water pumps were switched on in June, and a gurgling brook now runs through the concrete jungle of Seoul’s central business district.

The $330-million project, most of which is supposed to be completed next month, includes fountains, sculptures and 22 bridges in various fanciful styles. One span resembles a tall-masted ship, another the spread-eagled wings of a bird.

The list of ambitious efforts goes on.

Lee wants to turn the 630-acre U.S. military base called Yongsan, to be vacated by the end of 2007, into Seoul’s version of Central Park. He wants to build an opera house too.

This summer, a former golf course and racetrack reopened as a park-cum-wildlife sanctuary, stocked with elk, duck, squirrels and six species of deer.

In front of City Hall, Lee ripped out a vast oval of concrete and had it planted with grass -- “Mayor Lee’s front lawn,” is how some residents derided it.

On a hot, drizzly day, two boys were doing cartwheels on the grass outside the mayor’s office. Inside, in a conference room full of plush blue chairs, the mayor reflected on the changing city.

“In the 1960s, the environment took a back seat to economics,” said Lee, a slim man who is impeccably groomed. “In the 21st century, the priorities have shifted.”

The nation has developed rapidly in the last half a century. South Koreans note that the country, one of the poorest on Earth at the end of the Korean War, has become the 11th-largest economy.

But the aesthetics of the capital haven’t quite caught up with its newfound economic stature.

In a style befitting the military dictatorship that ruled until the 1980s, modern-day Seoul had huge boulevards on which the ruling elite could drive in comfort. Pedestrians were relegated to using circuitous underpasses.

Today, the mayor is trying to address the problem. In a move applauded by the elderly and disabled, he has built dozens of crosswalks in downtown Seoul.

He is also trying to bring Seoul’s car population under control. There are about 2 million cars in this city of 10.2 million people, enough to put even the widest of the streets in an almost perpetual state of gridlock.

Taking a cue from European cities, Lee has introduced bus lanes. He has also implemented a fare-collection system using computerized cards for Seoul’s subway system.

These changes have come since Lee took office in 2002 and some believe he has been too abrupt in pushing newfangled ideas. The angriest have been car owners, much of the middle- and upper-income population of Seoul, who feel they have lost out with the introduction of bus lanes and the demolition of the elevated highway.

“Mayor Lee should take responsibility for the hellish traffic situation in Seoul,” wrote one indignant critic on an Internet site that last year started calling for Lee’s resignation.

Advocates of the poor, meanwhile, complain that he wants to demolish some of the shabbier housing to build higher-priced residences and create work for the construction industry.

Yu Jae Hong, a professor of cultural studies at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies in Seoul, said Lee was continuing in the tradition of strong-arm politicians imposing their development plans on the nation.

“These are all showy projects that use slogans like environment and culture,” Yu said. “But it is ultimately about real estate.”

Some of the luster of the Cheonggye stream restoration has been tarnished by the arrest in May of one of Lee’s closest aides, Vice Mayor Yang Yoon Jae. He is charged with accepting money from a real estate developer who wanted an exemption from height restrictions for building along the stream.

One reason Lee draws criticism is that he is in the thick of the political fray. Besides being mayor, he is an active member of the conservative opposition Grand National Party and an outspoken critic of South Korea’s left-of-center president, Roh Moo-hyun.

Among the points Roh and Lee have clashed on is the president’s desire to move the capital south to ease overcrowding in Seoul. Lee calls the idea “ridiculous” and says he hopes that someday Seoul will again be the capital of a united Korea.

Lee is clearly an ambitious man, and most people expect him to succeed Roh, who is barred by term limits, in the next presidential election in 2007.

The 63-year-old mayor doesn’t try too hard to deny it.

“People believe if I become president I will be able to fix a lot of our country’s economic problems,” he says, smiling.