Martial Law(계엄령: Gye-eom ryeong), which originates from a term that means ‘harsh guard order’, is defined as the use of military force to promote peace in extraordinary circumstances. In South Korea, it was declared for the first time in 1948 to suppress communist forces and counter North Korea’s regime before and during the Korean War. However, in the post-war era, this command has transformed into a tool for crushing political opposition and consolidating power amidst the nation’s deeply polarised political landscape. The pretext of “guarding against North Korea” has since become a rhetorical device―invoked regardless of the actual degree of threat―to justify an unquenchable lust for power. In the recent martial law declaration by Yoon Suk Yeol, a statement about ‘the need to eradicate North Korean communist forces’ was also included.
Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own ways
-Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
This quote can similarly be applied to the reasons behind a polarised political landscape: “Every unsatisfied person is unsatisfied in their own way.” Discontent stemming from diverse interests has driven people to vote for one party, not out of genuine support, but simply to oppose the other. This is a consequence of a two-party system that offers little real choice. The accumulated frustration of feeling underrepresented is so profound that voters are compelled to choose what they see as the lesser of two evils, clinging to a faint hope for change. This dynamic explains how Yoon Suk Yeol narrowly became South Korea’s 20th president, winning by a margin of just 0.73 percentage points.
This undercurrent of negative sentiment has fractured South Korean society further, with politicians exploiting these divisions to their own advantage. For example, the unsolved gender inequality issues have been distorted and turned into hatred of different gender and conflict. Additionally, the rapid economic transition has exacerbated generational strife, as grievances about not being understood rise among many different groups of people. Policies addressing the wealth gap have been inconsistent, labour rights have been undermined to strengthen the state-capital nexus, and neglect of marginalised groups, such as people with disabilities, has driven them to the streets in protest. These people, each with their own reason to be there, have gathered outside the parliament and courts since the declaration of martial law on the 3rd of December, united by a single thought: “This is so wrong.”
The solidarity of diverse groups of people uniting swiftly to demand the impeachment of Mr. Yoon has often been portrayed in the international press as a testament to the resilience of South Korean democracy. This is true. However, it can also be seen as a natural response to a series of shocking and controversial actions taken by Mr. Yoon since his election. Many of his decisions have defied common sense and basic expectations, leaving the public struggling to comprehend his governance. It began with the unnecessary relocation of the presidential office to Yongsan, incurring direct costs of 50 billion won (35 million USD). He had ordered striking truckers to return to work, and commented on what seemed to advocate for longer working hours even though many industries are already overworked. defend the overwork culture. These are evidence of his troubling belief that labour must be strictly controlled. The impunity granted to those responsible for the Itaewon tragedy and the rejection of the Corporal Chae Special Prosecution Act underscores the alarming disregard for young lives. Furthermore, the healthcare system faces collapse due to the rushed expansion of medical schools without proper consultation, while heightened tensions with North Korea, exacerbated by unbalanced diplomacy, have raised serious concerns about the erosion of basic security.
The declaration of martial law was, for many, the final straw. It is no surprise, then, that individuals from all walks of life―across generations, genders, regions, and communities―have come together in protest with a shared purpose: to challenge a government they see as failing its people.
South Korean protests have captured global attention. Demonstrators brought K-pop idol cheering sticks and an array of flags, creating a unique and vibrant atmosphere. Unlike the hostility often associated with fandom politics, these cheering poles, born out of immense love from idol fandom, added a strikingly positive tone to the protest scenes. Multiple flags, inscribed with phrases like “National Stay at Home Coalition” or “Metro Line 6 Riders Association”, were brought, and there were also Rainbow flags visible. Many argue that the event turned into a joyous celebration of aspirations for democracy and a deep respect for diverse values and humanity.
The failure to arrest Mr Yoon provoked even more vigorous solidarity. The police force, which should be deployed to ensure the safety of citizens―the very foundation of the country’s legitimacy―was instead used to repress protests across the nation. Meanwhile, the police under the direction of the Corruption Investigation Office for High-Ranking Officials (CIO) simply retreated after a tense standoff with the Presidential Security Service team.
In the absence of trust in state structures, people have turned to supporting one another— regardless of their original causes. Protests by marginalised groups, such as people with disabilities and farmers, which had previously received little attention are now drawing broader public support than ever before. One woman at the protest in Busan spoke loudly to the crowd:
“I am a so-called bar girl, working as a noraebang assistant in a hot spring over there. We impeached Park Geun Hye, and we’re going to impeach Yoon Seok Yeol, but at the same time, half of our people are the ones who voted for them. Why are they doing this? Because there is no civic education, and they do not have a proper community to belong to. Please care about the marginalised people around us. And care about democracy.”
Julian Border, the Guardian’s correspondent, described the declaration of martial law as a “desperate gamble on nostalgia for authoritarianism.” In the same article, John Nilsson-Wright, a professor at the University of Cambridge, argued that this move reflects Yoon’s personality more than any strong nostalgia. Given South Korea’s history and Mr Yoon’s personal background, both analyses hold weight. The People Power Party— to which Mr Yoon belongs— has its roots in a dictatorial government, and remnants of authoritarian culture still linger in South Korean politics and society. On a personal level, Mr Yoon comes from a highly masculine and hierarchical prosecution service. One female prosecutor ignited the MeToo movement within the service, exposing systematic injustice and discrimination. In this context, the current situation might not be entirely unexpected.
The shocking news in 21st-century South Korea reveals what happens when the flaws of a country coalesce and reach their peak. Yet, it is also evidence that a crisis can become an opportunity for democratic renewal when the country possesses the resilience to uphold its democratic strengths.
On the 15th of January, Mr Yoon was finally arrested, marking the first time in South Korean history that a sitting president faced such action. Nevertheless, Mr Yoon publicly insisted that his arrest was illegal and the complete impeachment would be a long process. Can South Koreans bring him down completely? This question remains uncertain , as there are still political forces defending Yoon. How, then, will South Korean politics unfold after his impeachment?
By Hwikyung Lee
January 21, 2025
