Martial Law and the Future of South Korean Democracy
At 11 p.m. on December 3, South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol declared martial law and deployed security forces to the streets of Seoul. Remarkably, just six hours later, the president reversed himself and withdrew the troops. These dramatic events caught South Koreans and the global community alike completely off guard. Why did President Yoon declare martial law only to withdraw it so quickly?
During a meeting with the leaders of his own party, the People Power Party (PPP), Yoon defended his actions as a warning to the opposition party. He also emphasized that the decision was made in accordance with the constitution.
At first glance, this short-lived political turmoil is difficult to comprehend. What political objectives was President Yoon hoping to achieve? He must have been aware that the South Korean Constitution requires the president to revoke martial law if the National Assembly demands it through a majority vote (which it did unanimously, with 190 out of 300 members present).
Various reports suggest that President Yoon independently pushed for the declaration of martial law without consulting leaders of his own party or close confidants in the Presidential Office. He chose to proceed alone, even anticipating potential failure. What might explain such a seemingly reckless move—and what does this failed attempt at martial law signal for the future of South Korean politics and democracy?
Legalism vs. Democracy
One immediate explanation lies in his own statement declaring martial law voicing frustration with the opposition party. He accused them of obstructing major policy initiatives, blocking personnel nominations, and making repeated impeachment attempts—22 motions in total—against government officials since the administration’s inauguration in 2022. The National Assembly, he charged, was harboring “shameless pro-North [Korean] anti-state forces.” They had, moreover, established a “legislative dictatorship and attempted to overthrow the liberal democratic system.”
Since taking office, Yoon has frequently mentioned the following principles: first, that politics should be conducted strictly in accordance with the law; second, that he will not be swayed by ever-changing public opinion; and finally, that his work is dedicated solely to serving the entire people. This approach could be described as ‘puritan legalism,’ marked by strict adherence to moral codes and inflexible obedience to a set of rules.
Such puritan legalism has contributed to a rigidity in his dealings with political opponents. He has even refused to meet with Lee Jae-myung, the leader of the Democratic Party of Korea (DPK) and its presidential candidate in the 2022 election, on the pretext that Lee is facing criminal prosecution. Yoon’s political perspective appears to be guided by a singular criterion: right or wrong. He prioritizes his own judgment of what is right or wrong over making earnest efforts to understand the complex and conflicting interests of the people and pursuing a solution to address them.
This rigid legalism has proven to be unrealistic and impractical, as it clashes with the legal consciousness of Korean society, where strict legalism is often seen as inflexible. Yoon’s insistence that he won’t be influenced by frivolous public opinion suggests that he is a leader who prioritizes end results over process. He is a teleological leader who disregards other considerations as long as he brings about positive outcomes that align with his goals for the people. In this sense, he mirrors the perspective of Park Chung Hee, the authoritarian leader who between 1961 and 1979 led South Korea’s industrialization and whose approach seems irrelevant to the realities of 21st-century Korea.
The Naked Emperor
In his speeches, President Yoon has repeatedly emphasized that he works solely for the Korean people. However, he does not understand that the abstract notion of ‘the people’ needs to be translated into specific groups in politics.
A typical example of this issue is evident in how Yoon handled admission policies for medical schools. In February 2024, the Yoon administration announced a new policy to significantly increase student admissions to medical schools to address the growing demand for medical services. This policy prompted thousands of residents and interns to resign in protest, leading to an ongoing crisis in South Korea’s health care system. While their protests have been criticized as driven by self-interest, doctors and medical students argue that increasing student admissions will deteriorate the quality of medical education without addressing systemic issues such as the exploitation of resident labor and the regulation of treatment fees within the health insurance system.
Unable to persuade current medical students and doctors, President Yoon has repeatedly argued that he adopted this policy for the sake of the people and the state. Combined with his puritan legalism, his people-oriented politics has led him to a failure to compromise and to the belief that the public does not understand his true intentions. In other words, when faced with opposition or disagreement over his policies, he tends to be stubborn in his conviction that he is genuinely representing the people’s interests and unwilling to promptly identify the reasons for the opposition or seek a political solution.
His rigid legalism also brought about political havoc when the opposition party accused his wife of improper behavior as first lady, including alleged corruption and political involvement behind the scenes. Yoon’s mishandling of this issue has worsened relationships with both the opposition party and his own party. In an interview on November 7, he apologized for the scandals surrounding the first lady but denied any unlawful acts or intervention in state affairs on her part. He also claimed that her mistakes had been exaggerated and that she had been “vilified” by his political opponents.
Instead of recognizing public sentiment on this problem and addressing it properly, Yoon maintained that he had been following principles and laws, and that the people simply did not understand him (and her). He has become a ‘naked emperor.’
Upon closer examination, his declaration of martial law can be seen as a desperate attempt to assert that he is right in his own way, regardless of what others may think. It also serves as a strange demonstration of his rigid legalism. He may have believed that the declaration of martial law was legally permissible. He might not have considered grave political implications. The fact that he withdrew the law as soon as the National Assembly nullified it further attests to his legalism. Yoon is distinct from previous authoritarian leaders in South Korea because he understands the need to control his authoritarian impulses within the legal boundaries of the constitution.
The martial law turmoil in this context is an outcome of President Yoon’s peculiar approach to dealing with oppositional parties. His rigid legalism, which conflicts with the popular legal consciousness in South Korean society, combined with the ever-plummeting support for the president (dropping from 50% to 19%), led him to the strategy of brinkmanship as a desperate action.
The Future of Korean Democracy
On the surface, this failed martial law episode is a blot on South Korean democracy. More deeply, this case demonstrates that democracy cannot be sustained solely through rigid legalism. The legal consciousness of ordinary Korean people was shaped historically during the era of authoritarianism and rapid industrialization in the 1960s and 1970s. The people were aware that many laws were violated in the pursuit of political or business goals. This is one of the reasons why Korean voters elected opposition parties in April 2024 to hold the majority in the National Assembly, despite their leaders being on trial for multiple criminal charges. This legal consciousness should be reconsidered and gradually reformed in post-democratization South Korean politics. A leader, however clean they may be on a personal level, must recognize the broader societal context and adopt a step-by-step approach to achieving a more comprehensive version of legalism.
At the same time, this crisis highlights strong support for democracy in Korean society. It demonstrates that sustained martial law or a coup d’état is unthinkable in South Korea. It is encouraging to see that the military refuses to be politicized, and that the public rejects any abrupt political upheavals through undemocratic means.
Nevertheless, the immediate future of South Korean politics does not appear bright. The failed martial law fiasco will give the opposition party an upper hand. Opposition leaders are likely to organize mass rallies aimed at driving President Yoon out, potentially within six months, to pave the way for a new election.
Facing the impending political crisis, several scenarios can be imagined. One possibility is the president’s voluntary resignation before completing his full term. In doing so, he could propose an amendment to the constitution, changing the presidency from a single five-year term to two four-year terms. This would provide a significant opportunity for political reshuffling within both the ruling and opposition parties.
Another potential outcome is the impeachment of the president by the opposition party. However, this process would take several months, as the Constitutional Court in South Korea must render a final decision. Such a scenario would create considerable uncertainty, especially given that three seats on the court are currently vacant. The final scenario is that the president could be forced out of office through mass demonstrations.
No matter which scenario materializes, the Korean political scene is set to be turbulent and precarious. What is important to remember is that Korean society has long suffered from dysfunctional political parties and politicians, whether from the ruling or opposition party. Until the current political parties genuinely reflect and address the key issues facing Korean society—particularly by narrowing the gap between the elites and the masses—the political uncertainty in South Korean democracy will persist, even after the post-martial law crisis subsides.
