For months, calls to remove President Yoon Suk Yeol from office had been mounting among the public and opposition, accusing the president of mishandling various controversies and mismanaging critical policies. The president’s abortive martial law declaration on Tuesday, the latest and most glaring of his gambits, added fuel to the flames. On Wednesday, six opposition parties introduced articles of impeachment against Yoon for alleged insurrection, with a parliamentary vote expected at 5 PM on Saturday, December 7.
Lee Jae-Myung, leader of the main opposition Democratic Party, once reluctant to fully endorse Yoon’s ouster for fear of failure, is now actively demanding the president’s removal. Those searching for a smoking-gun impeachable offense seem to have found it. Yoon, through either folly or miscalculation, has provided impeachment-seekers with stronger leverage to build their case. If anyone was on the fence about Yoon before Tuesday, that fence was blown over by the collective gasp at his bizarre and brush with authoritarianism.
Impeachment needs ruling-party votes
To be sure, many hurdles lie ahead. The ruling People Power Party is largely united behind Yoon, rejecting any attempts at impeachment. Given the current parliamentary dynamics, the opposition must convince at least eight PPP lawmakers to pass the articles.
Even if the motion passes parliament, the Constitutional Court — assuming it agrees to hear the case with the current six-member panel — would need to rule unanimously that the president committed an egregious unconstitutional act. That is a high bar to meet. Political cluelessness is not unconstitutional per se. Nor is the act of declaring martial law, which is entirely within the president’s purview.
But assuming Yoon survives, the underlying reality will only deteriorate. His approval rating continues to sink below 20%, even in traditionally conservative strongholds. The public movement seeking Yoon’s ouster or resignation, which began as early as August 2022, is only poised to expand and intensify. A recent poll shows that seven out of ten Koreans support impeaching the president.
Yoon’s claim that Lee and his opposition party are obstructing legislative procedures through majority dominance will no longer carry the same weight it once did. If anything, the president has widened the rift between the executive and legislative branches.
Internal collisions are set to escalate as prospective dissidents in the president’s own party tip their hands. “If President Yoon does not announce his plan to step down before voting tomorrow,” senior PPP parliamentarian Ahn Cheol-soo said on Friday, “I have no choice but to support impeachment.”
Already on Tuesday, Han Dong-hoon, once regarded as Yoon’s henchman, firmly opposed the martial law declaration, labeling it a mistake. What was once dubbed a Yoon-Han bromance is now a thing of the past. Eighteen lawmakers aligned with the pro-Han faction voted on Wednesday to reverse Yoon’s decree. Han is now requesting that the president leave his own party and indicated the need to suspend Yoon from power speedily.
How many defectors will emerge from the ruling party is still uncertain.
Then, there is the international dimension to the latest incident. While martial law has been rescinded, foreign leaders and dignitaries have canceled their visits to South Korea, and several countries have issued travel advisories. The US Department of Defense has indefinitely postponed the Nuclear Consultative Group’s meeting and tabletop exercise with its counterparts in Seoul. The situation also overshadows Japanese Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba’s potential visit to South Korea next month. On Wednesday, Ishiba stated that the government is monitoring developments with “particular and grave” concern.
Experts warn that domestic instability not only erodes South Korea’s standing as a beacon of liberal democracy on the global stage but could also jeopardize the integrity of its trilateral pact with Tokyo and Washington – ironically, Yoon’s signature achievement. This crisis likewise comes at the most inopportune time, as North Korea and Russia strengthen their military alliance, challenging to destabilize international norms.
Leading up to this week’s unrest, the chasm between the DP and Yoon, already strained by his party’s electoral defeat in April, widened. The opposition party unilaterally pushed through bills that clearly spelled trouble for the ruling party, only for the president to veto them repeatedly. The standoff escalated recently when the DP moved to downsize the national budget, which could undermine Yoon’s key policies, and introduced motions to impeach three sitting prosecutors and a chief state auditor. Controversy ensued as some of these prosecutors were tied to ongoing investigations into DP leader Lee.
However, all of this, at its core, is a political problem—one that can and should be resolved through political means. By dispatching the military without exhausting other options, Yoon essentially chose a dead-end path. The president may try to mitigate the damage with radical new cabinet appointments or by making compromises with the opposition, but it could well be a matter of too little, too late. A return to politics at the barrel of a gun — an occurrence South Korea hadn’t witnessed in decades, since the dawn of its vibrant democracy—will be etched in the public’s memory for a long time.
Country still reeling
Days after Yoon’s shocking declaration left the nation in turmoil, South Korea is still reeling. Although the order was swiftly overturned after 190 lawmakers voted against it, the harrowing six hours of chaos remain vivid in memories: Moments after Yoon’s televised address and issuance of martial law proclamation, helicopters hovered over Seoul as troops and police converged on the National Assembly. Arrests were reportedly attempted against several politicians, including Chairman Han Dong-hoon of Yoon’s own ruling People Power Party. “It was like a scene out of a blockbuster movie,” one pundit put it.
Yoon’s rationale for issuing the decree only added to the confusion. In his address, he accused the opposition party of engaging in “anti-state” activities” and justified the measure to “eradicate pro-North Korean forces” and safeguard the “constitutional order of freedom.” Whatever the merit of these justifications, it became the shortest-lived martial law in the nation’s history, serving no discernible purpose.
So why did Yoon make such a politically risky move? For now, speculation outweighs concrete answers. Some argue it was a shock-and-awe tactic to recuperate from his weakened political standing, while others see it as a diversionary ploy to shift voters’ attention from Yoon’s growing scandals. But regardless of precise motives, one thing seems clear: Yoon has effectively expedited his political downfall. Even if he completes his remaining two-and-a-half years in office he is bound to limp through, not as a lame duck, but as a dead duck.
Kenji Yoshida is a translator and a Seoul-based correspondent for JAPAN Forward.
Jason Morgan is a historian and an associate professor at Reitaku University.