Last Tuesday, South Korea’s president, Yoon Suk-yeol, plunged the country into political chaos by declaring—and then withdrawing—martial law. This was the first time that martial law had been imposed since 1980, when President Chun Doo-hwan staged a coup and massacred thousands of democratic protestors at the Gwangju Uprising. For South Koreans, Yoon’s declaration was a rude awakening to the reality that the dark era of military dictatorship might not be a relic of the past.
On Saturday, tens of thousands of protestors gathered outside the National Assembly in Yeouido, calling for Yoon’s impeachment. But the opposition party’s motion to impeach Yoon fell through. Yoon’s conservative People Power Party boycotted the vote, denying the two-thirds quorum needed to pass the motion. While many of the party’s members, including leader Han Dong-hoon—a protege of Yoon who later became a staunch critic—publicly condemned Yoon, they feared impeaching him would hand over the presidency to the Democratic Party.
The party’s reluctance to impeach the president stemmed from a painful lesson learned in 2016. When President Park Geun-hye was impeached over a sprawling corruption scandal, the party collapsed and lost the presidency to Democratic Party leader Moon Jae-in. They battled for years to regain public support. “If we impeach another president we put in power, how could we ever ask the people for their votes again?” said Kim Gi-hyeon, a member of the party.
Outraged by the boycott, protestors bombarded the party members with text messages and phone calls. Lee Jae-myung, leader of Democratic Party, announced that his party will push for another impeachment vote this coming Saturday. As the opposition parties control 192 of the 300 seats in the National Assembly, they would need to win over at least eight members of the People Power Party to pass the motion.
South Korea now faces a prolonged battle of political uncertainty and constitutional chaos.
Yoon’s declaration of martial law sent shockwaves through the country. But members of the Democratic Party had raised the alarm that Yoon might make such a move. At a Democratic Party Supreme Council meeting held in August, Kim Min-seok—an influential figure in the party who was an avid student protestor during the country’s democratization movement and a protege of President Kim Dae-jung—said he had a “well-founded conviction” that Yoon was plotting to declare martial law. Still, other lawmakers dismissed his claims as conspiracy theories. In September, Kim introduced an amendment to martial law to prevent “a coup disguised as martial law.”
The amendment proposed that, except in wartime, the president must secure prior approval of the National Assembly to declare martial law. It also guaranteed the rights of lawmakers who are arrested or detained by martial law troops to vote on the president’s declaration. As chaos unfolded overnight, these proposals turned out to address the very loopholes that Yoon tried to exploit to upend constitutional safeguards.
This isn’t the first time that a president has turned to martial law amid growing political scandal. In 2016, Kim Min-seok discovered evidence that President Park Geun-hye was preparing to declare martial law to avert charges related to her corruption scandal. In July 2018, an internal document from the Defense Security Command revealed that Park had planned to deploy soldiers and tanks to suppress protestors and arrest opposition lawmakers. Ironically, Yoon was the prosecutor general who spearheaded the corruption case that precipitated Park’s impeachment.
Yoon, who rose to fame as prosecutor general under President Moon Jae-in, won the presidency by a margin of less than 1 percent—a result widely seen as a referendum on Moon’s government rather than an endorsement of Yoon. Since taking office in May 2022, Yoon has served a term plagued with political gridlock and a series of scandals involving him and his wife, including allegations that she accepted a luxury handbag as a bribe and conspired to manipulate Deutsche Motors’ stock prices. In the past several months, accusations that the couple engaged in influence-peddling during a parliamentary by-election made headlines. Yoon’s approval ratings plummeted, and calls for his impeachment intensified.
Declaring martial law was a desperate move by an unpopular president mired in crisis—“a frantic last-ditch effort.” Leader of the New Reform Party Lee Jun-seok, who was once a close ally to the president, said the indictment of a key figure in the influence-peddling scandal, just hours before Yoon’s declaration, may have been the last straw.
Motivated purely by his domestic political agenda, Yoon had no constitutional grounds for declaring martial law. Article 77 of the South Korean Constitution authorizes the president to declare martial law to maintain public safety and order during “war, armed conflict or similar national emergency.” None of the reasons offered by Yoon in his televised address—the impeachment motions against his cabinet members or attempts to cut his budget—amount to a national emergency similar to a war. In Yoon’s case, “the requirements for martial law cannot possibly be met,” wrote Han In-sup, a law professor at the Seoul National University School of Law.
Yoon’s order was also fraught with procedural violations of the constitution. Within an hour after Yoon’s televised address, martial law commander Park An-soo issued a proclamation banning all political activities, including those of the National Assembly. This was an unprecedented decree. No proclamation issued under any martial law order in the nation’s history had ever banned the National Assembly from exercising its legislative authority.
When lawmakers rushed to the National Assembly to rescind Yoon’s order, police officers blocked them from entering the building, while martial law troops stormed the chambers to stop them from voting. Hong Jang-won, a deputy director of the National Intelligence Service, said he was ordered by Yoon to collaborate with the Defense Counterintelligence Command to arrest and detain prominent political figures, including Lee Jae-myung and Han Dong-hoon, on charges of being “anti-state forces.”
Yoon’s myriad efforts to block or subvert the legislature’s emergency vote overstepped the constitutional boundaries of his presidential powers. In a national emergency, Article 77 authorizes the president to restrict the powers of the executive and the judiciary, but not the legislature. “The constitution does not allow the president take any measures against the legislature,” said Jeon Hak-seon, a law professor at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies. Martial law grants the president significant powers during an emergency, but it also designates the legislature to serve as a check on those powers.
Yoon’s attempts to derail the legislature’s authority to check on his powers unequivocally violated the constitution.
His declaration of martial law might also amount to an insurrection. In a ruling on the Gwangju Uprising, the Supreme Court of Korea articulated that using force to render a state institution incapable of exercising its constitutional powers constitutes a subversion of the constitution. The court cited President Chun Doo-hwan’s deployment of troops to blockade the National Assembly and prevent lawmakers from convening as a clear example of disabling the legislature’s constitutional functions. Yoon’s actions closely resemble those of Chun, who was ultimately convicted of treason and insurrection.
Following complaints filed by opposition parties, bar associations, and civic organizations, the police and prosecutors have started investigating insurrection charges against Yoon. While the constitutionality and criminality of Yoon’s martial law remain separate questions, experts predict that if Yoon is impeached, he will also be prosecuted for insurrection. If convicted, Yoon could face life imprisonment or the death penalty.
After the impeachment motion failed to pass, Han Dong-hoon reassured the public that Yoon would make an “orderly resignation.” He said that even before he resigns, the president would be excluded from state affairs, including diplomacy. Instead, Prime Minister Han Duck-soo would run the government in close consultation with the People Power Party.
Lee Jae-myung criticized Han Dong Hoon’s bid to take over the presidency, accusing him of staging “a second coup.” The constitution does not authorize the ruling party or the prime minister to assume the executive duties of the president while he remains in office, he said. The presidency may be vacated through impeachment or resignation, but it cannot be delegated to another person outside constitutionally enumerated procedures.
Critics said Han was trying to delay Yoon’s exit to buy time to position himself as the next head of state.
With a paralyzed president unwilling to step down, a party leader vying for power, and an opposition determined to impeach him, South Korea may be on the verge of a new constitutional crisis.