A sudden declaration of martial law by an unpopular president late Tuesday night focused domestic and global attention on South Korean politics.
For the last two and half years, Korea’s pro-democratic opposition has decried President Yoon Suk-yeol’s “prosecutor dictatorship.” The term describes his use of the prosecution service to frustrate liberal and progressive politicians, media, and labor unions, accompanied by a revival of anti-communist rhetoric associated with past dictatorships.
For instance, in his August 2023 Liberation Day speech, Yoon declared that “the forces of communist totalitarianism have always disguised themselves as democracy activists, human rights advocates, or progressive activists while engaging in despicable and unethical tactics and false propaganda.” This kind of slander made many worry that Yoon’s regime would lead to a regression of democracy; to others, Yoon’s rants simply sounded like the tired mantra of old-school conservatives who routinely parrot the language of dictatorship era.
Then in September of this year, a press release by Democratic Party lawmaker Kim Min-seok alerted the public that Yoon was planning something. Kim noted that Yoon had designated many of his high-school classmates and close associates to prominent security positions in state administration and the military. He staffed the Ministry of Public Safety and Security, Ministry of National Defense, and Defense Counterintelligence Command with cronies. Kim warned that Yoon was likely preparing to create a situation in which he could easily declare martial law, using the pretext of a public security situation created by “pro–North Korean” forces.
To many people, this kind of premonition sounded shrill. But by early Wednesday, even Korea’s deeply conservative Choson Ilbo declared that “Kim Min-seok was right.” As the events unfolded Tuesday night, even the ruling conservative People Power Party chair Han Dong-hoon declared that Yoon had acted unlawfully.
The Choson’s swift vindication of Kim’s warning and the National Assembly’s rapid resolution dissolving martial law quickly demonstrated that Yoon’s move was the desperate act of an unpopular president struggling to survive, one that few expected at that.
For almost the entirety of his administration Yoon has faced persistent scandals and intrigues, and been charged with incompetence. His administration was inept in its handling of the 2022 Itaewon crowd crush disaster, in which 159 people died and a further 196 were injured. He also obstructed the investigation into the death of Marine private Chae Su-geun during a flood response in 2023. Yoon’s response to both of these incidents greatly dismayed the public. So did his use of prosecution to intimidate the media, settle scores with the opposition party, and constrain labor activism through damage claims and criminal charges.
More directly, Yoon’s wife, Kim Keon-hee, quickly attracted attention for perceived bribery, influence peddling, academic and employment fraud, and stock price manipulation.
Even more significantly, the exposure of meddling by Kim, Yoon, and their spiritual advisor Myung Tae-kyun in party polling and candidate selection procedures to cement Yoon’s control of the party this past September contributed to growing calls for Yoon to be impeached.
Observers argued that Myung played the same Rasputin-like role as Choi Soon-sil, a spiritual adviser to impeached president Park Geun-hye. Myung was indicted earlier Tuesday on charges of violating political funding laws.
Ironically, Yoon was the very prosecutor who tried Park, Choi, and their accomplices for their crimes and threats to democracy. Park had stacked her administration with figures from the administration of her father, dictator Park Chung-hee. Yoon’s power play, at first glance, seems like something Park might have done.
Park’s administration was brought down by 2016–17 Candlelight Revolution. Perhaps it was because Yoon had witnessed the power of that event that he decided to attempt to head off resistance by going straight to emergency measures.
But there were other compounding factors that may have led to Yoon’s abrupt decision.
In recent weeks, protests against Yoon have grown, with tens of thousands of people participating in a candlelight protest on Saturday calling for Yoon’s impeachments.
This event was preceded a series of declarations by university students and professors from across the country in recent weeks, including from Yoon’s alma mater, the top-ranking Seoul National University, along with a similar statement from North American academics. Other prominent civic groups, trade unions, and writers’ associations released statements.
At this moment, however, we can only speculate as to what stirred Yoon to make this bizarre decision to declare martial for the first time in over forty-five years and send special forces to the National Assembly.
As it stands, lawmakers were able to return to the assembly, barricade themselves from the troops, and overturn Yoon’s decision a mere three hours into the national crisis. By 5:00 a.m., Yoon announced live on television that he would order the army to retreat and hold a meeting with his cabinet to undo his declaration of martial law.
As dawn approaches on Wednesday morning, it is reasonable to expect that Korea will likely see one of the largest protests since its Candlelight Revolution. The Korean Confederation of Trade Unions has called for a general strike, and the opposition parties have announced that they are preparing a motion for impeachment.
Whatever happens in the coming days, it is certain that Yoon’s three-hour coup has introduced a new, turbulent phase that is likely to transform Korean politics going forward. What shape that will take is a matter for urgent attention.
