Yoon Suk Yeol, South Korea’s disgraced president, is ousted

SOUTH KOREA’S constitutional court ruled unanimously on Friday to oust Yoon Suk Yeol, the country’s embattled president. This marks the third time in less than a month that a G20 country has banned a prominent politician from high office, the others being Turkey and France. Yet although the cases seem superficially similar, they are morally different. The front-runner for Turkey’s presidency, Ekrem Imamoglu, was arrested on trumped-up charges. Marine Le Pen, the leader of France’s hard right, was lawfully convicted of financial offences, but many think the court that barred her from running for office was too harsh. In Mr Yoon’s case, the offence was against democracy itself, and his ousting seems entirely appropriate, even if his supporters disagree.

Mr Yoon was impeached by the National Assembly after his short-lived attempt to impose martial law in early December. The court’s decision to uphold the impeachment marks a victory for South Korea’s democratic institutions and ends a leadership vacuum atop its government. A presidential election will be held within 60 days.

But the next president will inherit a mess. The trial and election are unlikely to heal the societal divisions that Mr Yoon’s fateful actions have inflamed. Months of uncertainty have battered South Korea’s economy. Economic confidence is down; growth forecasts have been cut. Without clear leadership, South Korea has struggled to build ties with the American administration of President Donald Trump, whose new tariffs include a 25% levy on South Korea.

The trial hinged on the legality of Mr Yoon’s martial-law declaration. Frustrated by obstruction of his agenda in parliament and claiming a conspiracy by “anti-state forces”, Mr Yoon sent troops to seize the country’s legislature and its election commission. Mr Yoon and his lawyers insisted both that his actions fell within his authority as president, and that he never intended to fully enact military rule—only to send a warning to the opposition parties. The eight sitting justices instead declared his deeds unconstitutional, illegal, and, in the words of Moon Hyung-bae, the acting head of the court, “a betrayal of the people’s trust”.

For many South Koreans, Mr Yoon’s move revived painful memories of the country’s authoritarian past. Following the end of the second world war and the division of the Korean peninsula, South Korea was governed by a series of authoritarian and military rulers. The last time martial law was declared, in 1979, it started eight more years of autocratic rule, including a massacre of protesters in Gwangju in 1980. Following democratisation in the late 1980s, the country’s politics polarised, in part because of divergent views about its 20th-century history and about its relationships with its neighbours, including the threat from the communist North and the alliance with America.

Those divisions have grown sharper in recent months. Although polls showed that most South Koreans wanted to see Mr Yoon removed from office, opinions were split along partisan lines—and the chasm was apparent on the street. Outside the courthouse, the atmosphere was carnivalesque, but with a hard edge. Some 14,000 police officers were dispatched to prevent clashes. Security concerns kept Mr Yoon himself away from the courtroom.

Mr Yoon’s supporters waved South Korean and American flags and hawked merchandise showing Mr Yoon looking endearing, holding puppies. Many adopted the rhetoric of Donald Trump’s MAGA movement, appealing to “Stop the Steal”. “They stole our votes by rigging the election, they’re trying to steal the country,” says Jang Baek-san, a supporter of Mr Yoon who calls mainstream Korean media “fake news” and turns instead to YouTube for “the real truth”. One man placed a sign with the faces of progressive opposition leaders on the sidewalk and invited others to walk across it: “If you don’t step on it, you’re a commie!” Most passersby obliged.

Opponents of Mr Yoon called for equality and justice while waving playful posters. K-pop music blared when the decision was announced. “To see all eight judges agree makes me feel a little bit like democracy is alive here in Korea,” says Bok Jin-hu, a middle-aged man from Seoul. But many also want to see Mr Yoon, who for the time being remains a free citizen, punished more severely. “I hope he’s executed and the others related to this incident are sent to prison,” says Kim Byol, a 20-something who spent the night outside the courthouse.

The race to replace Mr Yoon will begin immediately. Lee Jae-myung, the leader of the main opposition party, the progressive Democratic Party, is the front-runner. “The real Republic of Korea begins now,” Mr Lee declared after the verdict, pledging to restore “the people’s livelihood, peace, economy, and democracy”. On March 26th an appeals court overturned an earlier conviction of Mr Lee for election-law violations, removing a major obstacle to his candidacy. But Mr Lee is divisive and his victory is hardly guaranteed. Much will depend on whether conservatives can unite around a single standard-bearer, or whether several will try to run, risking a split vote.

Mr Yoon’s ruling party, the People’s Power Party, called on its supporters to accept the court’s decision. But Mr Yoon’s lawyers decried it as illegitimate. Even as Mr Yoon leaves the presidential residence, he will remain in the national spotlight: he faces separate criminal charges for insurrection, which carry a potential sentence of life imprisonment or even the death penalty. The next trial begins on April 14th. ■