From martial law, which was supposed to give him near absolute power, to impeachment, which stripped him of even the powers he had before. Within ten days, Yoon Suk-yeol was swept away by the domino effect he himself had set in motion. South Korea's ousted conservative president thought he could overpower the progressive opposition. Instead, his plan, which still has a few loose ends, turned into a boomerang that realized his greatest fear: the sabotage of his administration.
Today, when people talk about South Korea, they immediately think of K-Pop music or K-Drama series. Or the Oscar-winning Parasite, or the Nobel Prize in Literature for Han Kang. Blackpink or the Squid Game serial. These and many other entertainment products have made Seoul a cultural superpower. But there are dark spots behind this “plywood facade.” The world took notice on the night of December 3, when then-President Yoon suddenly imposed martial law in the country. Less than six hours later, he was forced to cancel it at the unanimous request of the National Assembly. At that time, helicopters and military armored vehicles stormed parliament to prevent the vote, while ordinary citizens and journalists gathered in front of the building to confront the military. And this is in spite of the decree prohibiting any political activity or protests and the authorities’ control over the media. Watching the video of the late-night press conference at which Yoon announced martial law, many South Koreans admitted they thought it was a deep fake created by artificial intelligence. Opposition leader Lee Jae-myung of the Democratic Party was among those who did not believe the video was authentic. But it turned out it was.
The magnitude of Yoon’s decision and its impact on South Koreans cannot be overstated. Although today North and South Korea appear to us as perfect opposites, a simple dichotomy between dictatorship and democracy, the southern part of the peninsula also has a tragic totalitarian history behind it. The martial law imposed by Yoon was the thirteenth to be imposed, but the first since the democratization process began in 1987. Many immediately recalled the massacres of past oppositionists. Examples are multiple: hundreds died in clashes between citizens and police in 1960, after martial law was declared by dictator Syngman Rhee. Or the 1980 massacre in Gwangju (165 casualties according to official figures, while independent sources say between 600 and 2300 people died), when the city rebelled against General Chun Doo-hwan’s military coup. More than three decades later, South Korea is still a very young democracy that suddenly found itself at risk of falling back into its dark past. This explains the immediate and stormy reaction of civil society, which played a decisive role in Yoon’s “conviction.”
In this regard, it is very important to understand the context in which martial law emerged. South Korea has a highly polarized political system. The positions of conservatives and progressives have traditionally been irreconcilable. On both economic and social issues, as well as foreign policy issues. The People Power Party, of which Yoon is a member, has always taken a very tough stance on North Korea, favored good relations with Japan, sought a stronger alliance with the USA, and held a more skeptical position on China. In recent weeks, it announced for the first time direct arms shipments to Ukraine as “a response to the alleged involvement of the North Korean military in the war on Russia’s side.” The Democratic Party led by Lee, on the contrary, is more dialogue-oriented with Pyongyang, with whom it sees future reunification, offers greater independence from Washington’s directives, maintains good relations with Beijing, and is more skeptical of Tokyo.
Unprecedented: within 30 months, Yoon used the presidential veto 25 times: he blocked investigations into the Itaewon massacre, when about 160 people died during Halloween celebrations in 2022, crushed by the stampede.
All these disagreements were exacerbated after the disputed 2022 presidential election, in which Yoon defeated Lee by a narrow margin (about 0.7%). A former prosecutor with a reputation for incorruptibility, Yoon was a “lame duck” from the start, as the opposition always had a majority in parliament. This majority further increased after April’s parliamentary elections, when the Conservatives suffered a record defeat, and it was a direct result of two half-failed years of politics, at least domestically. Instead of taking a stance of dialog with the opposition and encouraging reforms, Yoon took a defensive stance. In 30 months, he has used the presidential veto 25 times. In particular, he blocked special investigations into the Itaewon massacre, when some 160 people (almost all of them very young) died after being crushed by a crowd during a Halloween celebration in 2022. The obvious responsibilities of the security apparatus have never led to government accountability. In other cases, the veto power has been used to block an investigation into Kim Keon-hee, Yoon’s wife, accused particularly of election meddling and accepting a luxury Dior bag as a gift from a scandal-plagued preacher.
Lee, on the other hand, barely escaped an arrest warrant as part of a corruption investigation and survived a non-fatal stabbing during a rally last January. Relying on his parliamentary majority and being the protagonist of media initiatives such as hunger strikes and live broadcasts, the opposition leader has nevertheless increased his popularity, relying also on the discontent of various categories of citizens. These include trade unions, key actors in the country’s democratization, which Yoon has called “criminal organizations” for strikes against his administration. There were also women’s organizations among the opposition supporters. Already during the 2022 election campaign, Yoon has taken a deeply anti-feminist, if not outright misogynistic tone. Among his first policy promises, not surprisingly, was the abolition of the Ministry of Gender Equality. Voting in South Korea has never been so divided along gender lines. In the 2022 presidential election, 58% of women under 30 voted for progressives, and only 33% voted for conservatives. Not surprisingly, during the large-scale protests against Yoon after his attempt to impose martial law, according to South Korean media, about 30% of the people on the streets were women under 30. Lee, nicknamed “South Korea’s Bernie Sanders” for his unusually radical positions for an Asian context, also represented well the discontent with Yoon’s foreign policy. In particular, many South Koreans disliked the thaw in relations with Japan, achieved at the cost of not demanding reparations for heinous crimes during colonial rule. Many disagree with the rapprochement with the USA and with NATO, with whom a historic partnership treaty was signed in 2023.
It was in this poisonous context that the decision to impose martial law was taken. Yoon used the pretext that the budget law had been blocked in parliament because of opposition demands for amendments and in his speech denounced the “sabotage” of democratic institutions by certain forces “sympathetic to the North Korean communists.” In fact, as was clear from the start, it had nothing to do with North Korea, which in recent days has called Yoon a “fascist dictator.” Frustrated by his inability to act, perhaps worried about his judicial future and that of his wife, Yoon attempted the unthinkable.
Until a few days ago, it seemed like a sudden, personally made, reckless decision. What transpires now may partially change the picture. First of all, the key role of former Defense Minister Kim Yong-hyun in this whole affair seems to have already been established. He is one of Yoon’s loyal supporters and has been his friend since high school. Kim was appointed in August, according to some in the opposition, specifically so that the president could have support and leeway in possibly imposing martial law. In support of this thesis, an intelligence document is circulating that proves that the plan to impose martial law was already prepared in early November 2024. Among the motives that have been suggested is to provoke a crisis in relations with North Korea by sending military drones outside the demilitarized zone that has separated the two Koreas since the war began. Many witnesses, including military officers, confirmed that Kim ordered parliament to intervene by issuing arrest warrants for opposition leaders. A former minister, charged with treason, has tried to commit suicide in prison in recent days.
The ruling party initially tried to save the Yoon administration. On the first impeachment vote on Saturday, December 7, it decided to boycott the House floor to prevent a quorum. In fact, the opposition needed at least eight majority votes to pass the resolution. The next day, Prime Minister Han Duck-soo and party leader Han Dong-hoon announced the creation of a sort of commission for Yoon, which would lead to his resignation at an as yet unspecified date. This move was dictated by opportunistic calculation. Lee, Yoon’s perennial rival, is actually facing an appeals court on charges of making false statements during the 2022 election campaign. If found guilty, he risks losing the opportunity to run in the next election. In the case of impeachment, however, his chances increase because the terms could be shortened, and the Constitutional Court judges would be absorbed in the Yoon investigation.
The Conservatives’ plans changed not only because of immense pressure from civil society, but also because of Yoon’s lack of flexibility, who in an address to the nation on Thursday, December 12, rejected any offers to resign and promised not to give up “to the last,” even declaring martial law as a “necessary act of government.” By then it became clear that the orderly retreat his party had dreamed of was impossible. For Yoon, it was perhaps an extreme attempt to wring out some assurances in the judicial sphere. Or maybe an overestimation of himself and his (now very limited) circle of supporters, who even demonstrated in his defense last Saturday in downtown Seoul with South Korean and US flags. The fact is that the conservatives, after being labeled “traitors” by various progressive (and non-progressive) media outlets for what happened last week, decided to show up, after all, for the “parliamentary trial,” i.e. the second impeachment vote on Saturday, December 14. And 12 of them voted to impeach Yoon, who was immediately removed from office, and his powers were transferred to Prime Minister Han on an interim basis.
There is no end in sight yet, as we must wait for the Constitutional Court, which is expected to confirm Yoon’s dismissal within 180 days.
What will happen to Yoon next is still unknown, as it is necessary to wait for the decision of the Constitutional Court, which must confirm Yoon’s resignation within 180 days. If the decision to remove him from power is upheld, early presidential elections will be called within two months of the ruling. In the two previous presidential impeachment trials, judgments were rendered within three months. But this time there is a problem. Three of the court’s nine judges are missing, who must now be appointed by parliament with the necessary confirmation of the prime minister, the interim acting president. This procedure will inevitably generate new controversy. In the meantime, judicial investigations will continue. Yoon, accused of sedition and abuse of power, is unable to travel abroad after his passport was confiscated.
The consequences of instability in South Korea also have international significance, not least because they come at a delicate transitional moment of power across the ocean. The return of Donald Trump creates uncertainty regarding the projection of US policy toward East Asian countries. Tensions between Seoul and Pyongyang are also rising sharply, especially after Kim Jong-un and Vladimir Putin signed a mutual defense treaty that, according to international media reports, although not officially confirmed, allowed Pyongyang to send troops to fight on Russia’s side. China is also watching the developments with interest, and in case of a “change of guard” at the top of power in South Korea, it can count on a “new beginning” in relations with Seoul. A possible Lee presidency could also favor Trump’s efforts to resume the interrupted dialogue with Pyongyang. First, however, we must await the decision of the Constitutional Court of South Korea, a country that today simply rejoices in having escaped a deadly danger averted by the virtuous interweaving of the historical memory of its elders and the courage of its juniors.