—Yoomin Won, Associate Professor, Seoul National University
On December 3, 2024, then-Korean President Yoon Suk-Yeol declared emergency martial law (see here). Nearly a year later, on December 15, 2025, the Special Counsel investigating the insurrection charges announced the final results of its 180-day investigation. The findings were stark: Yoon declared martial law not to respond to any genuine crisis, but to eliminate political opposition and monopolize power. This conclusion exposes the declaration for what it truly was—a calculated attempt at authoritarian control disguised as emergency governance.
Forty-five years have passed since the last martial law in 1979, which was lifted in 1981. Martial law was closely associated with authoritarian regimes in South Korea until the transition to democracy in 1987. It was shocking to witness the legal tool that had served military dictatorships revive in 2024, and even more disturbing to learn that its revival was premeditated, planned as early as October 2023. Since then, much has happened. Yoon, who declared the martial law, faced impeachment proceedings initiated by the National Assembly and was ultimately removed by Constitutional Court decision in April 2025 (see here). Yoon and other involved officials underwent investigations and are now on trial for insurrection charges. A new president has been elected. But it seems difficult to say that Korean politics has been stabilized. What have we learned from the South Korean case of democracy backsliding crisis?
After the martial law declaration, I was asked frequently by international colleagues about the Korean situation. I came to learn that the South Korean case was interesting not only to Korean citizens but also to everyone who cares about democracy. South Korea is known as a country that has a functioning democratic system and has successfully transitioned from authoritarian rule to democracy. It was surprising to the global community that such a country would declare emergency martial law. The image of military soldiers breaking into the National Assembly to arrest or drag out lawmakers reminded them of their own dark history in different parts of the world. Unfortunately, it is still a shared experience—and still ongoing—that emergency power can be abused by political powers. Still today, ‘crisis’ has been invoked as a pretext for strong governmental measures. Many countries are experiencing democratic backsliding. The USA has also issued executive orders declaring national emergencies for economic security and border security.
What surprised me from conversations with international colleagues is that what seemed a serious constitutional crisis to me was not necessarily one to them. One of them asked: was it really a crisis? Or a success story? Indeed, the best part of the story is that the constitutional control mechanism worked. The National Assembly passed a resolution to lift martial law, and it was lifted six hours after the initial declaration. Yoon ordered the military and police to drag out lawmakers. But somehow lawmakers managed to arrive and passed a resolution to lift the martial law. The authority to request the lifting of martial law had once been simply ignored in the past. In a similar situation in 1952, the president ignored the National Assembly’s resolution to lift martial law (see Cho’s post). In 2024, the safeguard in the Constitution worked successfully to block one person’s illusory idea of crisis control. What was clearly different is how it was accepted by citizens, the military, police, and government officers. Military soldiers and police officers carried out the illegal orders half-heartedly, while some actively resisted, ultimately failing to prevent the National Assembly from passing its resolution (see here). Citizens gathered at the National Assembly and many other city centers to protest throughout the process. All of this saved South Korea from a huge step backward in democracy.
But it was clearly a crisis in South Korea. The legal procedures to investigate high-profile officials were not clear. There was a power struggle among the police, the prosecutors, and the Corruption Investigation Office for High-ranking Officials (CIO) over jurisdictional authority to investigate this case (see Kim’s post). When the judge at the Seoul Western District Court decided to extend Yoon’s detention, hundreds of his supporters broke into the court building and rioted, destroying the main door, windows, furniture, and office equipment while searching for the judge. Filling the vacant seats of justices on the Constitutional Court, which was destined to rule on the impeachment case against Yoon, was not easy when the power of appointment had fallen to the acting president (see here). Every loophole in the law became a battlefield of interpretation between the two polarized sides.
What can we learn from the South Korean crisis of democratic backsliding? South Korea transitioned to democracy in 1987 after decades of dictatorships. It has been 38 years since the transition, but the country still has not developed sufficient institutional resilience to prevent this from happening. Democracy can regress. The lessons from past abuses of emergency power can be easily bypassed. Emergency power is such an attractive and powerful tool—one available only to power-holders—to address their political crises. Emergency powers require clear legal constraints and oversight mechanisms to ensure that they are invoked only in genuine emergencies. Vigilance is perpetual—democratic institutions that took decades to build can be undermined in a single night if left unguarded. South Korea’s experience shows that protecting democracy is not a one-time achievement but an ongoing responsibility that demands constant effort from all members of society.
Suggested citation: Yoomin Won, Testing Democratic Resilience: What South Korea’s Martial Law Reveals, Int’l J. Const. L. Blog, Dec. 17, 2025, at: http://www.iconnectblog.com/testing-democratic-resilience-what-south-koreas-martial-law-reveals/