Martial law in South Korea. Next, a constitutional crisis?
SOUTH KOREA’S president, Yoon Suk Yeol, declared martial law late in the evening on December 3rd, invoking an extraordinary measure that has not been used since the country’s military dictatorship fell in the late 1980s. The surprise move has thrust his country into chaos and the future of his presidency into question. Armed forces were deployed to the parliament building in Seoul, the capital, where lawmakers had barricaded themselves inside and voted to block Mr Yoon’s declaration. Lines of riot police stood outside. Thousands of protesters took to the streets; many chanted “Arrest him!”, in reference to the president. “Is this real?” one asked.
The martial-law declaration bans all political activities and limits media freedom. Mr Yoon attempted to justify it by claiming that the National Assembly, which is controlled by his political opponents in the Democratic Party (DP), has “become a monster” that threatens democracy. He implied that they collaborated with North Korean “communist forces”. The president has so far provided no evidence for his claims of a plot against the state, let alone of any North Korean involvement. The DP said in a statement that Mr Yoon’s declaration of martial law was “essentially a coup d’état”. In America, a statement from the state department suggested that the Biden administration saw it as a political rather than a security issue. America had received no advance notice.
The president’s decision shocked not only the public, but much of Mr Yoon’s own administration. “This is the sole decision by the commander in chief,” says a source in the presidential office. “It was a huge surprise to most of the staff here, and the cabinet members as well.” The head of Mr Yoon’s own People’s Power Party (PPP) came out against the move. Woo Won-sik, the chairman of the National Assembly, said that the declaration of martial law was “invalid”. In the early hours of December 4th some troops began to withdraw from the parliament building, after lawmakers inside had voted unanimously against Mr Yoon’s decree. However, the army said that martial law remained in effect; it was unclear whether or not the parliamentary vote was binding on the president, but the army is responsible to him as commander-in-chief, not to MPs. Although successive constitutions have weakened the powers of the presidency and given more to parliament, South Korea remains a president-led system.
Mr Yoon, a conservative former prosecutor, took office in 2022 after narrowly defeating his opponent from the DP. In office he has proved a divisive leader, alienating not only his opponents from across the aisle, but many of those who had initially supported him. His approval ratings slid to below 20% last month, down from 53% when he first took office. This spring the DP swept general elections to retake control of parliament. Last week the parliament voted to trim Mr Yoon’s budget for next year; rumours of possible street protests or even impeachment proceedings against the president have been swirling in Seoul, though no formal move to impeach him has been made.
Mr Yoon may have thought he could pre-empt his opponents by taking action first. Yet his move went far beyond the bounds of normal political activity in democratic South Korea, evoking the tactics of Park Chung Hee, a military dictator who ruled the country in the 1960s and 1970s. “It feels like Yoon just got drunk and suddenly announced this late at night. It makes no sense,” quipped one protester. “He’s used the nuclear bomb,” says Victor Cha of the Centre for Strategic and International Studies, an American think-tank. By setting it off, Mr Yoon seemingly hoped to save his administration. Instead, he may have sealed his own downfall. As the sun rises, South Korea will have a deep constitutional crisis to grapple with. ■