Understanding the South Korean crisis and its global implications ...

The marital law gamble by South Korea’s President Yoon Suk-yeol backfired spectacularly. Yet the extraordinary events of an unusually cold winter’s night – which saw an evidently well-prepared military attempt to stop all political activities and control the media – underscored the awkward nature of Korea’s democratisation process. The power of the presidency, although stymied this time, remains immense.

For decades under authoritarian rule, the Korean president wielded singular power. Korean democratisation, however, has been unique in that it was largely implemented in a top-down manner by the presidency itself. As a result, although the National Assembly has gained significance – and in this instance scrambled to pass a protest against martial law – the president still held on to its remarkable authority. This extends over legislation making, policy execution, appointments, and control of powerful institutional apparatuses such as the national security agencies, the public prosecution office, and the board of audit. Even the Assembly’s unanimous vote to overthrow martial law depended on the president abiding by the ruling.

In Korean politics, when a president loses a parliamentary majority, they often feel compelled to override the National Assembly and exploit executive powers further – lest they risk be seen as a lame duck during their non-renewable five-year term. This dynamic creates a fraught tension between parliamentary authority, which remains relatively constrained, and executive power, which continues to exert an outsized influence on the nation’s democracy. It has also led to various abuses of power where presidents have allowed Korea’s incredibly large conglomerates, known as the Chaebol, increasing access to decision making in exchange for economic favours beneficial to their personal and political agendas.

Yoon’s confrontational tactics have not proven popular. Coming to power in 2022, Yoon won the presidency by an extraordinarily slim margin, surrounding himself with old-guard, ultra-conservative figures who have promoted a Cold War-style view of politics, branding opposition forces as communist sympathizers. A string of corruption scandals involving him and his wife, economic woes, and frequent gaffes have further eroded his authority. Following the opposition's victory in parliamentary elections, Yoon has been largely unable to advance his agenda without resorting to executive authority.

Yoon’s manoeuvre reflects a dangerous trend in far-right politics, where democratic institutions are increasingly dismissed as ideologically tainted obstacles to be overcome at any cost.

But this crisis underscores the lingering influence of the military and security establishment in South Korea’s political affairs, a presence that never entirely disappeared after democratisation. Born in the fires of war, South Korea’s military has played an outsized role in politics since independence. From 1961 to 1993, the nation was effectively a military dictatorship, with all presidents and top leadership hailing from military ranks. While significant reforms, particularly in the 1990s, have placed the military under civilian control, the fact that South Korea remains technically at war has allowed the military to retain a latent claim to political intervention. Its close ties to conservative elites and the enduring societal influence of mandatory male conscription further cements its role.

Indeed, during the Candlelight Uprising of 2016–17, which led to the ouster of former conservative President Park Geun-hye, the military was allegedly perilously close to violently cracking down on democratic protesters seeking her removal amid corruption scandals and abuses of power, prompting a national probe. Overpowered national security laws and institutions have also been used as tools to persecute or undermine left-leaning forces as anti-state or communist sympathisers. The military’s apparent complicity in Yoon’s attempted in-house coup – allegedly conducted without the knowledge of even his closest political allies – only further underscores the shadowy influence of the national security establishment in domestic politics.

It is important to remember, however, that Yoon’s actions also serve as a warning sign flashing in bright red for democracies worldwide. His manoeuvre reflects a dangerous trend in far-right politics, where democratic institutions are increasingly dismissed as ideologically tainted obstacles to be overcome at any cost. The danger is particularly acute as leaders seek to sideline dissent and leverage their executive power to push their agendas through non-democratic means. One needs to look no further than Donald Trump, who has spoken of using the military to fight the “enemy within” and expressed his intent to act as a “dictator on day one” to bypass opposition to his policies. His allies have previously advocated for him to declare martial law. When Trump inevitably encounters resistance to his agenda – an issue of when, not if – it is fanciful to assume such ideas won’t resurface.

Ultimately, Yoon’s actions have revealed themselves to be a misstep, driven by an emboldened leader that believed dismantling the nation’s hard-won democracy could salvage his political standing. As Korea has also demonstrated, however, it now falls to citizens and elected parliamentarians to push back and ensure that such attempts will never be successful.