Waterways Before Land Values, People First
By the time the Car-Free Street in the old downtown and the bus route overhaul had been more or less wrapped up, a work report arrived from the Eco-Environment Division.
The moment I saw the report's title, I looked up. Status of the Yeojin Stream Ecological Restoration Project. It was a familiar name.
"Yeojin Stream... that stream, right? The one they partially filled in, ran sewer pipes through, and turned into little more than an open sewer?"
At my question, the head of the Eco-Environment Division nodded.
"That's right. It was originally a natural stream running straight through Yeojin City, but during the urbanization drive of the 1970s it was reworked to double as a sewer."
I searched my memory for a moment. The Yeojin Stream had been a small brook flowing past City Hall. Then it had been filled in, covered over, and reduced in the end to a stream in name only. The very fact that anyone was discussing restoring it again felt strange.
If a city that had erased its own stream now claimed it would bring the water back to life, there was something behind it. There had to be.
"So what's the problem with the restoration?"
Projects like this usually charged ahead the moment the budget was secured. Citizens had demanded it, environmental groups had made themselves heard, and restored like Seoul's Cheonggyecheon, the stream would give the region at least one signature attraction.
The division chief opened his mouth carefully.
"Mayor, this is not a simple ecological restoration."
"...What do you mean?"
30 billion won in national funds, 10 billion from the province, 5 billion from the city. A 45 billion won project.
45 billion won, to restore a single stream.
As I turned the pages, my irritation climbed another notch.
"This was never supposed to be a project this size, was it?"
The division chief hesitated briefly before answering.
"No, it wasn't. In the beginning, the whole plan was to demolish the road and parking lot and create a streamside landscape. That was it."
"Then who took a project that 5 billion would have covered and blew it up into a 45 billion won one?"
"......"
He shut his mouth, but I had already caught on. A revised plan. What had begun at the level of tearing out a road had been expanded into building acquisitions and land compensation.
"You're buying up buildings now? Who approved a plan like that?"
"During the previous mayor's term, the task force in charge expanded it in stages."
I drummed my fingers on the desk.
"Tear out the road and you're done; the waterway was there all along. But buying up the land and razing everything around it... that's not urban planning. That's development."
The documents spelled out yet another problem. The landowners were refusing to come to the table, insisting the compensation was too low.
"So this is a project that was doomed from day one."
Compensate at the official assessed value and the owners would never be satisfied. Worse, once word of the restoration spread, land prices would rise — and with them, the demands for even higher compensation.
Someone had built this current deliberately. Grow the project, and money moves. Money moving draws in people who want to get their hands on it.
And at the center of it all sat a set of familiar names.
"Kim Jun-tae... Bang Ji-hoo..."
I set the documents down, the corner of my mouth curling upward.
"Now it's starting to get interesting."
Park Yeon-ho, who had been about to close out his report, hesitated over something and spoke again.
"Mayor, are you... planning to revise the project?"
"Yes. Of course. We're putting it back the way it was originally designed."
"Tear out the road, restore the stream. That was this project's original purpose, wasn't it?"
Division Chief Park nodded carefully, then dropped his voice.
"Some members of the city council's Industrial Construction Committee — and local figures with ties to the landowners — will raise serious objections."
"Council Chairman Kim Jun-tae and Committee Chairman Bang Ji-hoo in particular can be expected to make major moves."
I nodded slowly, then murmured with a faint smile.
"Then let's sit back and watch how they react."
"Let's revise this project from top to bottom."
The air in the meeting room stopped dead. The silence stretched on. From the deputy mayor to the Planning and Budget chief, the Citizen Space Design chief, and the Eco-Environment chief, not one of them could bring themselves to speak first.
I drove the point home a second time.
"We restore the original plan. Tear out the road, bring back the waterway, tidy up the surroundings. We finish it at that level."
The first to react was Park Yeon-ho of the Eco-Environment Division. Eyes going wide as if this were the last thing he had expected, he said:
"Mayor, then the project budget..."
"5 billion won is plenty. That's how this project started, and that's how it should still be run."
I tapped the desk slowly with one finger.
"And yet somewhere along the way it became a 45 billion won project. Dig into the line items, though, and it's riddled with bloated entries."
I opened the binder and held it up for the executives across the table to see. Stream maintenance accounted for less than a quarter of the total; half went to land acquisition and relocation measures, and the rest was landscaping for show.
"Someone concluded that the only way to profit was to grow this project. The bigger the budget, the more money there is to get your hands on."
Several of the executives lowered their eyes. Less an admission of guilt, I suspected, than the sinking sense of being pulled into what came next.
Division Chief Park Yeon-ho exhaled deeply.
"A downsizing on this scale could draw fierce resistance from the city council."
I nodded.
"That much is expected. No — to be exact... it's a reaction I've made sure will come."
The expressions around the table began to harden one by one. I didn't stop there.
"That resistance will turn political. We gutted the budget, we ignored the council's consent, we turned our backs on the local economy... every frame in the book will get slapped onto us."
I closed the documents and issued my orders.
"Who opposes us most fiercely. Who puts out the first statement. And... exactly how far the threads tying them to the landowners actually run."
From one side of the room, an executive muttered under his breath.
"This is practically a criminal investigation..."
I turned toward him.
"There are times when administration has to work like an investigation. What we're trying to change right now is not a set of numbers."
I stopped there and looked past the conference table to the window, where the afternoon light of deepening autumn was slanting across the wall.
"What we're doing right now is redrawing the direction of this city."
At my words, Division Chief Park Yeon-ho nodded quietly.
"We could end up in a head-on collision with the council."
"I won't dodge the collision. But we're not running — we're making a correction."
Tapping the conference table at the center of the room with my fingertips, I went on.
"This is not just a restoration project. This is a question of what kind of city Yeojin becomes."
Someone asked.
"What kind of city it becomes — meaning what, exactly?"
I answered without a moment's hesitation.
"A city with people at its center."
"A city where the citizens are the masters, not the landowners."
"A city where waterways come before land values."
The air in the room had grown heavy. Under every eye fixed on me, I brought my words to a quiet close.
"No one has ever tried to turn this current before."
"And no wonder. It's burdensome, dangerous, and loud."
"But someone has to do it."
"Otherwise a city comes to resemble not its people, but its power."
I called Chief of Staff Kang Seol-heon to the mayor's office. She walked in with a stack of documents, took one look at my face, and got straight to the point.
"Another showdown, I take it?"
I smiled and held out a few pages.
"Take a look. A project that 5 billion won would have covered has somehow swollen to 45 billion."
Chief Kang nodded and skimmed the documents at speed.
"Council Chairman Kim Jun-tae, Committee Chairman Bang Ji-hoo... and the former mayor as well."
"Just as expected," I said.
Kang Seol-heon continued quietly.
"The problem doesn't end with them."
I nodded.
"The local papers will move too."
"Right. Outlets that live and die by advertising."
Kang Seol-heon laughed low in her throat.
"Chances are they'll print the other side's statement first."
Taking up her point, I said calmly:
"That's why we draw the line first."
"I'm not asking anyone to take our side from the outset. We only need to make sure they don't end up listening to that side alone."
Kang Seol-heon nodded, speaking as if sealing a vow.
"We'll hold the neutral line — while making certain the frame of 'a project bloated to 45 billion won' spreads far and wide."
"Understood. I'll work the press."
She answered without missing a beat. I added:
"And prepare a public opinion campaign for the citizens as well."
"Social media included?"
"Yes. We'll design the message to travel light and fast."
Kang Seol-heon smiled.
"We have to show the collision between the sincere intent to make the Yeojin Stream flow again and the forces trying to prey on it to fatten the budget."
I leaned back in my chair with a light laugh.
"Let's make the council throw the first punch — then prove that we were right all along."