On the evening of December 3, the city of Seoul was gripped by a bone-chilling cold. The usually lively streets of Yongsan were unusually quiet, with only a handful of eateries and pubs in operation. Close to the presidential office of South Korea, many locals and tourists sought refuge in a nearby pub, engaging in late-night discussions and unwinding from the day’s stresses.
At that very moment, a stone’s throw away, South Korean President Yoon Suk-yeol was proclaiming martial law, under the guise of eliminating alleged pro-North Korean anti-state forces. The shocking news, however, went unnoticed by most patrons, engrossed as they were in their conversations. It was only when mobile phones started buzzing with distressing messages and news updates about military choppers, armored vehicles, and special forces converging on the National Assembly that the gravity of the situation started to sink in.
In the aftermath of the disturbing revelation, a grim realization dawned on many, including this writer. Yoon’s act was not entirely unexpected. His ideology and personality, coupled with recent dubious activities of his administration, had hinted at the possibility of such a drastic measure.
Yoon is known for his admiration for Rhee Syngman, the first president of the Republic of Korea, who led the country into dictatorship. Despite public criticism, the Yoon administration has repeatedly attempted to honor Rhee with a memorial. Like Rhee, Yoon has been accused of abusing and expanding government power, stifling press freedom, and employing brute force and manipulation to maintain his regime.
Yoon’s insistence that his declaration of martial law, despite not meeting the constitutional requirements, was necessary to preserve the free constitutional order, was a clear red flag.
Upon assuming office in May 2022, Yoon’s first act was to move the presidential seat to Yongsan, based on questionable geomancy concepts. This decision greatly disrupted the functioning of national defense. Moreover, his wife’s involvement in various scandals, including stock manipulation and acceptance of bribes, was conveniently overlooked by the authorities.
Yoon’s declaration of martial law, which was planned and unconstitutional, was a clear example of his abuse of power. The president can declare martial law only under a national emergency, not to protect personal interests.
As the country currently stands on the brink of impeachment, Yoon might be facing charges of insurrection. South Korea’s criminal law defines insurrection as creating violence for the purpose of excluding national power from the Republic of Korea or subverting the Constitution.
Yoon’s martial law, though short-lived, was an attempt to suppress all political activities, a move that directly violates the constitution. Thankfully, enough lawmakers managed to bypass the armed presence and cast their vote, preventing the unlawful martial law from being enforced.
In summary, Yoon’s actions were a blatant attempt to undermine the constitutional process. It was, in essence, a failed military coup. If convicted, Yoon could be facing life imprisonment.
Today, the nation mourns and remains vigilant, for the president is unpredictable. If Yoon truly values the “universal values of humanity” and South Korea’s position as a “global pivotal state” that he often touts, he should heed the words of former United States President Jimmy Carter: “The best way to enhance freedom in other lands is to demonstrate here that our democratic system is worthy of emulation.”
