It is remarkable how historic events converge at times into a deep sense of irony. President Yoon Suk Yeol’s self-coup via martial law order was not only ill-conceived, it eclipsed what should have been a week of joyous national celebration of Han Kang, the first Korean to receive the Nobel Prize in literature.
Yoon’s rash gambit on Dec. 3 echoed the strong-arming of democracy on another December night 45 years ago when Gen. Chun Doo-hwan and his Army cohorts staged a coup d’etat. Six months later, they massacred protesters in Gwangju, Han’s hometown. In her novel, “Human Acts,” Han delves deeply into the pain and suffering inflicted on individuals by state violence during the democratic uprising in Gwangju in the spring of 1980.
Sales of “Human Acts” rocketed after the 2024 Nobel Prize in literature was announced. With the brutal scenes of the massacre freshly inculcated in their minds, many readers must have shuddered at the possibility of similar atrocities recurring today. Particularly, the younger generations must have deemed it unthinkable to live under military rule, with their basic rights and freedoms restricted for unjustifiable reasons.
Who would have imagined that South Korea, arguably an advanced democracy with a thriving economy and vibrant popular culture, would again face terror and bloodshed under military rule? Who could have expected its democratically elected president to take such a risky action to suppress his political opponents?
Most Koreans thought they had long passed such a dark chapter.
It remains to be seen whether Yoon and his acolytes plotted for a permanent dictatorship or tried to “save the country” from what Yoon perceives as “anti-state, pro-North Korean forces trying to overthrow our liberal democratic institutions.” But their audacity suggests they were confident in following Chun’s footsteps in silencing opposition at gunpoint. Now, they have doomed themselves to live the rest of their lives disgraced, just as Chun did.
Yoon’s declaration of martial law was an attempt to break the stalemate with opposition parties. With the administration mired in scandals and criticized for unpopular decisions, there was little reason for the opposition to give any quarter. Yoon and his followers gave up trying to push their agenda through democratic processes. And, as if in a time warp, they failed to realize the big difference between South Korea five decades ago and now.
Unlike the older generations who spent much of their lives under dictators, the younger generations have lived in a full democracy since their birth. Communicating and connecting through social media in one of the most wired countries, they react in different ways than their parents and grandparents to problems. These young people occupy a huge portion of the crowds calling on Yoon to step down. Hence the unique scenes of street protests, evoking K-pop concerts to the amazement of global citizens.
On the other side of the barricades, young soldiers on the ground also acted in different ways than their commanders. The troops from the Army Special Warfare Command deployed to the National Assembly moved in a noticeably passive manner. And so did the police officers, quietly watching or even helping lawmakers and their assistants climb over the fence to enter the Assembly compound. Thus, along with citizens who massed at that late hour of night, they effectively helped parliament to render the martial law invalid through a unanimous vote in just 2 1/2 hours.
Unfortunately, however, Yoon obviously resides in another world in psychological isolation. In his fourth and last TV address, on Dec. 12, Yoon defiantly refused to resign, shifting his earlier position to leave all decisions to his ruling People Power Party. He defended his shock decision as a “legitimate act of governance” and denied charges of insurrection. “I will proudly confront it, whether it’s impeachment or investigation,” he said. “I will fight to the end.”
Yoon’s bold battle cry clearly aimed at his tiny base of die-hard right-wing supporters, who account for his slightly over 10 percent approval ratings. In the meantime, the ruling party reeled from a rift between pro- and anti-Yoon factions. The party leader, Han Dong-hoon, finally urged his followers to vote for Yoon’s impeachment in the second bid last Saturday, after pendulating several times with mysterious calculations.
Now, with the opposition-raised impeachment motion against him passed by the Assembly, Yoon awaits the judgment of the Constitutional Court whether to fire him or restore him to office. He has become like Lee Myung-bak and Park Geun-hye, two former presidents and his most celebrated targets when he was a prosecutor.
As he vowed in his fiery latest speech, Yoon will defend himself through the court proceedings. And, with investigations on Yoon and military and government officials on allegations of rebellion, the chaos will persist for a considerable time before normal governance is restored with a new president.
It is time that all parties involved, including the main opposition Democratic Party of Korea, reflected calmly on what they did wrong to push the nation into this massive turmoil. It is high time that everyone acts with the “dazzling purity of conscience,” as put by Han Kang in “Human Acts,” as well as courage.
Lee Kyong-hee
Lee Kyong-hee is a former editor-in-chief of The Korea Herald. The views expressed here are the writer's own. -- Ed.
