The air in Gwanghwamun Square is thick with tension. Supporters of President Yoon Suk-yeol wave Korean flags and chant slogans, their voices defiant against what they claim is a politically motivated coup. Across town, opposition rallies demand justice and an end to what they call the “reckless authoritarianism” of a fallen leader. The nation stands at a breaking point, caught between those who see Yoon as a strong leader fighting a corrupt establishment and those who believe his downfall was inevitable.
It has been three months since President Yoon declared martial law—an extraordinary decision that his critics say was an attempted power grab but that his allies argue was a necessary move to safeguard democracy against election fraud. What followed was unprecedented: an impeachment, an arrest, and a bitter national divide that has shaken the very foundation of South Korea’s political system.
Yoon’s opponents accuse him of gross overreach, pointing to his December 3, 2024, declaration of martial law as proof that he sought to cling to power. The National Assembly swiftly moved against him, voting for impeachment in a stunning 234-63 decision. He was then arrested and charged with insurrection—a move that shocked his supporters and even some political analysts who questioned whether the case was legally sound.
But Yoon’s defenders see something else: a political takedown orchestrated by left-wing forces determined to erase his legacy. They argue that the impeachment was rushed, that the allegations of a stolen election were never fully investigated, and that Yoon’s crackdown on leftist “anti-state forces” made him a target.
“President Yoon was trying to protect this country,” says one protester at a pro-Yoon rally in central Seoul. “Now they are treating him like a criminal for standing up to corruption.”
Indeed, the parallels to past political struggles in South Korea are striking. This is a country where former presidents have been jailed before, often under circumstances that raise questions about the motivations behind their prosecution. For Yoon, once celebrated as a fearless prosecutor who took down powerful figures, the irony is bitter: he now finds himself on the other side of the justice system he once commanded.
The political chaos has revealed a deep fracture in South Korean society. While mainstream media focuses on Yoon’s alleged abuses of power, the streets tell a more complicated story. In conservative strongholds like Daegu and Busan, Yoon remains a hero, seen as a bulwark against left-wing policies that many fear could push South Korea toward socialism.
In Seoul, however, the tide is different. Younger voters, disillusioned by economic struggles and Yoon’s combative leadership style, have largely turned against him. The approval ratings tell the story: a record-low 11% in December 2024, with nearly three-quarters of the public supporting his removal. Yet even as numbers suggest overwhelming disapproval, the sheer intensity of Yoon’s remaining supporters cannot be ignored.
March 8, 2025, saw one of the largest political rallies in modern South Korean history, as 55,000 pro-Yoon demonstrators flooded the capital. Many wore red—a color now associated with their movement—and carried banners accusing the opposition of “stealing” Korea’s future. Others invoked the rhetoric of the American MAGA movement, calling for a fight against “deep state” forces they believe orchestrated Yoon’s downfall.
“I will never believe Yoon is guilty,” says Mr. Lee, a retired businessman who traveled from Incheon to attend the protest. “This was a setup from the start.”
Yoon’s sudden release from detention on March 12, following a court decision to quash his arrest warrant, has only added fuel to the fire. Though still suspended from power, he is no longer behind bars, and his supporters see this as a sign that the case against him is crumbling.
The real showdown is still ahead. The Constitutional Court has until June to rule on his impeachment. If they uphold it, Yoon will be permanently removed from office, marking one of the most dramatic falls in South Korean political history. If they reject it, however, the nation could face an even bigger crisis—one where an embattled president returns to power amid widespread civil unrest.
What is happening in South Korea is not just about one man. It is about the soul of the nation and the battle over its political identity. For conservatives, Yoon represents the last line of defense against an unchecked progressive movement. For liberals, his downfall is a victory for democracy and accountability.
But as the nation waits for the final verdict, one thing is clear: this crisis will not be resolved with a simple court ruling. The wounds are too deep, the battle lines too sharp. Whether Yoon is ultimately vindicated or cast aside, South Korea’s political landscape will never be the same.
And for Yoon himself, once the fearless prosecutor who toppled presidents, the question remains: was he the hero who went too far, or the victim of forces greater than himself?
Comments