By resisting arrest, South Korea’s president challenges democracy
AFTER YOON SUK YEOL’S attempt in early December to impose martial law on South Korea failed, two stories emerged. One was a tale of vulnerability: an assault on democracy by the president himself is worrying, even if it falters. The other was about resilience: South Korea’s democratic institutions rose to the challenge, with citizens rallying and lawmakers taking action to stop the self-coup and, eventually, to impeach the president. In the immediate, bleary-eyed aftermath, the resilient parts of the country seemed dominant.
In recent weeks, however, vulnerability has come to the fore. The constitutional crisis has only deepened and partisan warfare has only become more bitter. That culminated in the sorry spectacle of a stand-off on January 3rd between the country’s police, who sought to arrest Mr Yoon on insurrection charges, and the presidential security service, which chose instead to protect him. Ostensibly an arm of the same state, the president’s bodyguards barricaded the road to his residence to prevent his detention. Mr Yoon and his lawyers contend that the criminal proceedings against him are themselves illegal. On January 7th a court granted an extension of the arrest warrant; investigators are gearing up for a second attempt to enforce it.
Mr Yoon, ironically, first made his name as a defender of the law, rising through the ranks of South Korea’s prosecutorial service before launching his political career. He pledged to “not avoid legal or political responsibility” for his declaration of martial law. But he has done exactly that—and in so doing has only brought more shame upon himself and his country. The president’s residence is not a foreign embassy, a sovereign island unto itself; it is subject to the laws of the land it sits on. Mr Yoon is surely familiar with that principle.
Resolving the stand-off might be easier if South Korea’s interim leaders had more authority. But the country is now on its third president in as many weeks. Following Mr Yoon’s impeachment, Han Duck-soo, the prime minister, took over as acting president on December 14th. Just two weeks later the National Assembly, led by the main opposition force, the Democratic Party (DP), impeached Mr Han as well. DP leaders contend that Mr Han played a role in the insurrection; they were also peeved that he refused to appoint new justices to the constitutional court, which is hearing Mr Yoon’s impeachment case. Yet by rushing to oust the caretaker president, a career technocrat, the DP has hardly helped restore stability.
Choi Sang-mok, the deputy prime minister and finance minister, took over from Mr Han. Mr Choi has ably led the response to the crash of Jeju Air Flight 2216 on December 29th, the deadliest air disaster to occur on the country’s soil. But he has largely stayed silent on the matter of Mr Yoon’s arrest. The acting president says he is pursuing a principle of non-intervention in political affairs. He may also fear that he lacks the political capital to assert control.
The erosion of the rule of law and the chain of command comes at a worrying moment. On January 6th, with Antony Blinken, the outgoing secretary of state, visiting Seoul to reiterate America’s commitment to its ally, North Korea tested an intermediate-range ballistic missile. Although the test was mostly a message to Donald Trump, ahead of his inauguration later this month, it also serves as a reminder that the turbulent world around South Korea will not wait for it to resolve its own crises.
And a resolution remains months away. Impeachment proceedings against the president, which are separate from the criminal charges against him, have only just begun: the first full hearing at the constitutional court will take place on January 14th. While some two-thirds of South Koreans believe that Mr Yoon should be impeached, even attitudes on that question have split sharply along partisan lines. According to a recent poll by KBS, the national broadcaster, fully 96% of DP supporters believe Mr Yoon should be impeached, whereas among supporters of Mr Yoon’s party 84% believe the case should be dismissed.
Mr Yoon has encouraged his base’s basest instincts. During one rally outside his residence last week, a lawyer representing Mr Yoon cast the struggle in existential terms. “We are at war,” he railed. “You are the fighters in the war to set the Republic of Korea back on track.” South Korea’s democracy may have survived the initial assault, but the battle for its future is far from over.■
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