By Eugene Lee
It has happened. No matter how disheartening it is, martial law, once a remote counterfactual I had hypothesized about in early September, became South Korea’s reality last week. President Yoon Suk Yeol, in what many hoped was an impossible freak scenario, enacted martial law, citing national security concerns. For Korea which has lived through decades of democratic growth and painful memories of authoritarianism, this moment feels like a deep betrayal. Now, as we look at all this mess, the question isn’t just why or how it happened but what comes next.
Martial law in practice is proving to be as devastating as my earlier theoretical musings. Public protests have erupted across the country, met with curfews and the deployment of armed forces. For a short but important period of time, the very freedoms of speech, press and assembly that define our democracy have been curtailed, leaving an anxious and uncertain citizenry. The chaos deepened when the National Assembly voted to dismiss the martial law declaration within a couple of hours of its enactment.
Martial law, as I wrote in September, equals a coup d’état. The Constitution provides for its enactment only in the direst of circumstances, such as war or insurrection. The National Assembly’s decision to annul martial law should have marked the end of this political ordeal. Instead, it was just the beginning as the ruling party boycotted the impeachment vote a few days later. Plus, the total disregard for constitutional processes has thrown South Korea into a political abyss, further compounded by the ruling party’s move to consolidate power alongside the prime minister.
What we see today is not a defense of the republic but a betrayal. The ruling party’s blatant dismissal of the National Assembly’s authority and arbitrary seizure of executive responsibilities point to a dangerous usurpation of power. For many, this is no longer just a constitutional crisis — it’s a power grab, pure and simple.
The effects of the botched martial law attempt are already rippling through the economy. The Korean won has plummeted further, with investors pulling out en masse. The stock market continues to wobble, and inflation is creeping higher as the weakened currency makes imports costlier. These are not just my abstract concerns anymore — soon we will see them in higher grocery bills, rising utility costs and the struggles of small businesses. Exporters might see a “silver lining” in the weaker won, but even they will soon face supply chain disruptions and loss of credibility in global markets. All in all, what I see is our national credit rating being downgraded soon and it most likely will mean smaller paychecks down the road for all of us.
But think of what happens when a society sees its hard-won freedoms eroded. South Korea’s history provides an answer: resistance. The candlelit vigils that ousted Park Geun-hye in 2017 and the enduring memory of the Gwangju Uprising in 1980 remind us that Koreans do not take suppression lightly. Already, the streets of Yeouido are filled with protesters and APT.-modified chants echo a deep-rooted rejection of authoritarianism. The social cost is more than protests. Families are divided, livelihoods are at risk and trust in institutions is shattered. My only hope for the government is not to turn society on itself.
Foreign policy is in shambles with many scheduled events, strategic and public, being postponed or canceled. The United States, South Korea’s closest ally, now faces a diplomatic dilemma: what to do next. Meanwhile, regional players like Japan, China and North Korea are watching closely (my suggestion is for everyone to stay away!). Japan, despite its ties to Yoon, may find the instability troubling for its economic partnerships. North Korea could exploit the unrest to escalate provocations, and China may see an opportunity to assert influence in a divided South Korea. Even the Kyrgyz president whom Yoon met hours prior to the declaration of martial law, scrambled to leave, canceling the rest of his schedule, as the Korean side caused a loss of face and broke all the rules of traditional Korean hospitality. As I see it, for South Korea it is just the beginning — we should think about how to reduce collateral damage from the events of the past weeks and the current political gridlock.
One may ask what should we be doing. First and foremost, the ruling party, the prime minister and anyone, including the opposition, should immediately restore respect for the National Assembly’s vote to dismiss martial law. Ignoring any decision is not just unconstitutional — it is a direct attack on South Korea’s democracy. The Constitutional Court must intervene to annul the unlawful actions of the executive branch.
Next, the military should remember its role in defending the republic, not undermining it. South Korea’s armed forces must resist being used as tools of suppression, as history has shown that aligning with authoritarianism only leads to long-term disgrace.
In addition, the international community must not stay idle. Diplomatic pressure, economic consequences and public condemnation are necessary to restore order. Allies like the U.S. should make clear that any violations of the law or the Constitution are unacceptable in a democratic South Korea.
Finally, adhere to the people’s choice. Protests are the lifeblood of resistance. South Koreans have a history of fighting for their freedoms, and it is that resilience that can ultimately steer the nation back on course.
As I have written before, martial law is rarely a solution — it is almost always a symptom of deeper problems. For South Korea, the question now is not just how to resolve this crisis but how to ensure it never happens again. Constitutional safeguards must be strengthened, and those who have violated the public’s trust must face justice.
I repeat: “Restrictions never worked in Korea, especially in the last four decades.” The lesson remains the same. A government that turns on its people is doomed to fail. To those who continue to push this agenda, I repeat my September warning again and again: Don’t go against your people — just don’t do it.
Eugene Lee ([email protected]) is a lecturing professor at the Graduate School of Governance at Sungkyunkwan University in Seoul. Specializing in international relations and governance, his research and teaching focus on national and regional security, international development, government policies and Northeast and Central Asia.
English (United States) ·