For whom does the bookstore exist?

Unfortunately, the bookstore has turned into a source of division and friction, not simply a destination for whatever pilgrimage.

Ahn Hai-riThe author is an editorial writer of the JoongAng Ilbo. The mysterious bookstore opened by former president Moon Jae-in in April in Pyeongsan Village, where he lives his post-retirement life, was just a 20-minute drive from Ulsan Station, South Gyeongsang. When I visited the bookstore in the afternoon of May 9, a couple of security staffers were guarding the humble building against the backdrop of pine trees.

A few minutes later, the former president appeared. Though it was a weekday, the bookstore was crowded with scores of visitors, mostly his supporters from outside. Moon had said he would open the bookstore for the benefit of local residents, but none of them seemed to be there, including at an apparent for-profit café in the backyard. The following is the story of my trip to this puzzling bookstore run by the former president.

In the beginning, I hoped to see what books were sold there. But I changed my mind soon. The small bookstore was packed with broadcast staffers from a local TV station that day. The bookshelves were full of books about Moon, except for a precious few. Some of them were written by Moon himself. I never knew so many books were written on the former president. In a smaller room inside the bookstore, more than 1,000 politically themed books cherished by the former president filled the shelves, as he had posted on Facebook.

As about 100 old farmers in their 70s and 80s live in the village, I wondered if those books — or the design of the space — would benefit local residents. Why did the former president name the smaller room inside the bookstore a “library” even when it has no tables or chairs for reading? Would the villagers really go there to read books? When you go into the bookstore, you also have to pass a front door installed with an anti-theft system.

In a number of interviews with the press earlier this year, the former liberal president always bragged about the cozy and comfortable atmosphere of the bookstore, where local residents can come, read books, drink coffee and communicate freely.

Former president Moon Jae-in, center, smiles with Democratic Party leader Lee Jae-myung, left, and floor leader Park Kwang-on, May 10, as they visit a bookstore run by the former president in Pyeongsan Village in Yangsan, South Gyeongsang. [SONG BONG-GEUN]

In the backyard, there was a café called “Pyeongsan Book-loving Lounge,” where two kinds of coffee — caffè latte and tori latte — were served for 4,500 won ($3.4) and 6,800 won, respectively. (Tori is the name of Moon’s pet dog.) I thought they were expensive considering the location of the lounge — the countryside — and the lack of franchise fees. But there was no other choice. I wondered if the bookstore wants to make a profit from running the community café. The former president said that visitors to the bookstore would “naturally use cafes and restaurants in the region.” But the bookstore itself seems to be designed to earn profit from visitors.

While I was drinking a latte in a plastic cup, I heard a loud noise from people who started to line up behind a swiftly-drawn red line. About 10 minutes later, Moon appeared together with a Democratic Party (DP) lawmaker and more than 20 of his supporters.

After shaking hands with each of the visitors waiting for him, Moon stepped into the bookstore. Then all of a sudden, a volunteer worker wearing a blue cap bearing this line — “Let’s go together until the end of the world. Only Moon Jae-in!” — stopped the crowd from entering the bookstore. A long queue instantly formed around the bookstore building. The volunteer repeatedly shouted, “If you buy a book, you can shake hands with the president and take a picture with him. If not, you must buy a book first.”

It took almost one hour for Moon to shake hands with each visitor, chat for a moment, and take a photo with them until the 100-meter (109-yard) line vanished. After taking one or two envelopes containing his handwritten signature, all of them were elated.

In a letter posted on Facebook before the bookstore opened, the former president said, “Profits from the bookstore will go to a foundation and excess profit will be spent for local residents and projects.” But after it was found that the profit goes to the owner of the bookstore, or Moon, as effectively illustrated by one of his supporters on Facebook, the ownership of the bookstore was changed to a foundation.

Before stepping down as president, Moon said he wanted “to be forgotten” after retirement. But he broke the promise. In a documentary film about his political journey, the former president admitted that he couldn’t keep that promise, as the current government and People Power Party keep summoning him to real politics. Really? Given the way he has behaved since his retirement last year, he seems to be afraid of being forgotten, most of all.

The bookstore has become a political shrine for DP lawmakers and their followers. They routinely visit the place to meet the former president, buy books and take pictures with him. On May 10, a day after my curious trip to the village, Rep. Lee Jae-myung, current DP leader and senior members of the majority party took group shots with Moon, followed by a visit by his former aides in the Blue House and former ministers in the government.

Unfortunately, the bookstore has turned into a source of division and friction, not simply a destination for whatever pilgrimage. Recently, a book by former DP leader Lee Nak-yon, a political rival of Lee Jae-myung, arrived at the bookstore. Supporters of the current leader, who is mired in a legal and political plight, asked why there are no books about him. I wonder for whom the bookstore exists.