Blaine Harden/Washington Post A man wearing traditional mourning garb joins crowds of angry and grieving South Koreans beside the burned ruins of Namdaemun, a 610-year-old wooden structure that was South Korea’s No. 1 national treasure.

SEOUL, South Korea -- To appreciate the fury that has gripped South Korea since Sunday, imagine this:

The Alamo (or Independence Hall or the Old North Church) is set afire. There is live prime-time coverage on national television. Firefighters rush to the scene but dither for more than an hour before spraying any water. As the irreplaceable goes up in smoke, firemen argue jurisdictional niceties with government preservationists.

Police nab the perpetrator before the ashes are cold. He is a 69-year-old man with a criminal record for arson. He admits setting the fire, telling police that the landmark was "easy to approach and poorly guarded."

That scenario happened here this week. But the torched structure was a massive 610-year-old wooden gate that was part of the fortress walls that once protected Seoul. Known as Namdaemun, "Great Southern Gate," it was the country's single most important historical treasure.

"The soul of Korea burned overnight," said an editorial in JoonAng Daily, a Seoul newspaper.

Namdaemun was officially proclaimed "National Treasure No. 1" in 1962. It was the oldest wooden structure in Seoul, having served as the city's ceremonial entrance since 1398. It survived Japanese occupation. It survived the Korean War. Here in the world's most wired society, it survived South Korea's obsession with all things new--until Sunday evening.

That's when Chae Jong-gi, a former fortune teller who was angry at the government over how much it had paid him for the loss of his house to a development project, showed up at Namdaemun.

He wore mountain-climbing clothes, he later told police, and he carried three bottles of paint thinner and two lighters. Two years earlier, he had been convicted of setting a small fire at another ancient Seoul landmark, Changgyeong Palace. He was then given a suspended sentence, owing to his age and his earnest apology at trial.

After his arrest on Monday, Chae again apologized earnestly.

"No words are enough to express my apologies to my children and the people," he said.

Now that Namdaemun is rubble, many people are apologizing.

The mayor of Seoul has apologized. The head of the Cultural Heritage Administration, the agency responsible for the care of the ancient gate, has apologized and resigned--although he admitted no specific wrongdoing.

There is also abundant finger-pointing. City administrators contend the fire department hesitated before chopping open the roof of Namdaemun to fight the fire. They waited for direction from the Cultural Heritage Administration, according to a report released Monday. In the meantime, a small fire swelled into a conflagration. Government preservationists have since insisted they never told the firemen to hesitate and the firemen said they did not wait around for direction.

Among South Koreans who watched the landmark burn on TV in real time there is disbelief and deep sadness. One television commentator compared the experience to watching hijacked airliners fly into the Twin Towers in New York.

Since Sunday night, mourners have been coming to the grounds around the gate, bearing gifts of flowers, apples, pears, persimmons, coffee beans, dried pollock, clams, bottles of a Korean liquor called soju and, for reasons unknown, a single grilled cheese sandwich. These were offerings to ancestors for the collective failings of the Korean government to protect the gate.

"I am so upset, I cannot eat," said Kim Jung-ja, 65, who stood on Wednesday with a crowd of mourners near the ruined gate. She had come by bus from a distant suburb of Seoul to pay her respects.

On Wednesday, a number of letters were pinned to the offerings.

"It must have been very hot while you were burning," said one that was written in a child's hand and addressed to Namdaemun. "How could we have burned you down? It is too much."

Another letter to the landmark, in an adult's hand, said, "We seek your forgiveness for failure to protect you. We have made the biggest mistake that cannot be undone."

The government, though, says it will rebuild Namdaemun, using a recently completed and highly detailed blueprint, as well as records from a previous restoration of the gate. Officials predict it will take two to three years and cost about $21 million.

Special correspondent Stella Kim contributed to this report.