‘We cannot rest yet’: South Koreans react to deepening political crisis

Braving snow and freezing cold, kindergarten staff worker Ki-Soo Lee trudges to daily protests outside the gated residence of impeached South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol.

She’s tired. Since Ms. Lee first spoke with the Monitor in Seoul in early December, the young working mother has pushed through weeks of nonstop demonstrations, demanding Mr. Yoon be held accountable for his short-lived imposition of martial law Dec. 3. But she remains determined.

“I am very grateful there are people standing by my side, giving me strength,” she says. “Day after day, we need to stay together, we need to march together.”

Mr. Yoon’s surprise bid to impose military rule shocked many South Koreans, reviving memories of the country’s dark legacy of coups and military dictatorship, which lasted until 1987. Ms. Lee and her sister rallied with hundreds of thousands of people Dec. 14 outside South Korea’s parliament, erupting in cheers when lawmakers voted 204-85 to impeach Mr. Yoon. “I felt proud,” recalls Ms. Lee.

But today the defiant Mr. Yoon, who has vowed to “never give up,” remains holed up in his residence behind barricades erected by his security force. He is resisting not only his removal from office, but also efforts by government prosecutors to detain him for questioning over his martial law declaration.

Ms. Lee, who has a 10-year-old son, longs for a return to normalcy, something she knows is unlikely for at least a few more months.

“It feels like everyone’s daily life stopped at that moment – when he declared martial law,” she says. “Life stopped right then.” 

Under economic strain, sympathy for Yoon grows

At her noodle counter in Seoul’s Namdaemun market, vendor Jang Chang Suk also longs for an end to the current crisis – for different reasons.

“Business is horrible now!” she complains. “Last year there were a lot more foreigners eating at my counter.”

Political uncertainty is unsettling South Korea’s economy, worsening some already negative trends and impacting businesses large and small. It has scared off some foreign tourists, who have canceled trips, hurting the hospitality industry. The value of the South Korean currency, the won, has dropped sharply, pushing up import prices.

As the instability hits home, Ms. Jang’s political views have shifted. She says she’s grown more sympathetic toward Mr. Yoon since she first spoke with the Monitor in early December. “I understand better what happened,” she explains as she serves bowls of steaming noodles.

Mr. Yoon, of the conservative People Power Party, has argued that he declared martial law as an act of “desperation” to overcome political gridlock that he blames on the opposition center-left Democratic Party. By defending his actions and pledging to “fight to the end to protect this country,” Mr. Yoon has succeeded to a degree in mobilizing his core supporters. Indeed, although Mr. Yoon’s popularity plunged to the teens immediately following his martial law declaration, recent polls have shown his approval rating rebounding to around 40%. 

His backers regularly rally outside his residence in Seoul, waving U.S. flags and signs saying “Stop the steal” – a reference to President-elect Donald Trump’s false claims that he won the 2020 U.S. presidential election.

“He was treated unfairly,” Ms. Jang says of Mr. Yoon.

South Korea’s democracy enters uncharted territory

From the ivy-covered towers of Yonsei University in Seoul, legal scholar Ethan Hee-Seok Shin watches with concern as South Korea’s young democracy enters uncharted waters. 

“The perfect storm of extreme polarization and partisanship, combined with the winner-take-all electoral system,” has left the country “stuck,” he explains, and the deepening political crisis has also exposed gaps in South Korea’s constitutional law.

“A lot of the situations we are facing now were not really envisioned by our legislators 20 or 30 years ago,” he says. 

After Mr. Yoon was impeached, for example, a controversy arose over the powers of the acting president, Prime Minister Han Duck-soo, and whether Mr. Han could appoint new justices to fill three vacancies on the nine-seat Constitutional Court that will decide whether to permanently remove Mr. Yoon from power. Mr. Han refused to appoint the justices, and then the National Assembly voted Dec. 27 to impeach Mr. Han as well. The new acting leader, Finance Minister Choi Sang-mok, last month appointed justices to fill two of the court vacancies.

Ultimately, however, Mr. Shin is confident today’s leadership void will be resolved by the courts.

“The silver lining,” he says, “is we won’t be going back to military law.”

Cinematographer Oh Cheong Ok echoes this sense of optimism as he weaves through a crowd of protesters in downtown Seoul, his mounted camera rolling.

A veteran of South Korean political activism, Mr. Oh organized opposition to military dictator Chun Doo-hwan as a university student in Seoul in the 1980s, and later made a documentary about that era. 

Today, as he captures the unfolding political drama, he voices confidence in the resilience of the country’s democracy. 

“At the critical time, the people of South Korea will be there to pressure the constitutional judge to do the right thing ... and fire the president,” he says. “The people of Korea will prevail, but we cannot rest yet.” 

Kyong Chong supported reporting for this story.