The People Power Party Problem
A protester wearing a Yoon Suk-yeol mask with “insurrection ringleader” written on his forehead. Photo courtesy of Yejin Gim.
For South Koreans, “martial law” is not just a legal provision but a stark reminder of the nation’s turbulent history of military coups, bloodshed, and repression. The suppression of movements like the Yeosu-Suncheon Rebellion, Jeju Uprising, and the June 3 Resistance movement demonstrate how martial law has often served as a tool for violently suppressing dissent and consolidating authoritarian control; both Presidents Rhee Syng-man and Park Chung-hee have exploited martial law to extend their rule. Despite its grim history, South Korea’s geopolitical position in one of the most strategically vital, contentious, and crowded regions in the world necessitates the existence of such a provision. Acknowledging this duality, the 1987 revision of the South Korean Constitution included a critical safeguard requiring a simple majority vote in the National Assembly to lift any declaration of martial law—a reflection of lessons learned from the past.
This history ensures that even today, the specter of martial law carries not just legal significance but an existential weight for South Koreans, shaping their collective memory and political vigilance. After the declaration of martial law on December 3, 2024, liberal pundit Kim Ou-joon immediately went into hiding as soldiers approached his house and broadcasting company, after receiving a tip that he was targeted for arrest. Even now, he avoids fully recounting the event, fearful that he may have to escape again if martial law is declared once more.
Democratic Party opposition legislator Park Seon-won’s experience from that same night is equally harrowing. Disregarding his aide’s urgent pleas to evacuate and suppressing his instinct to flee south, he chose instead to head to the National Assembly. Before leaving, he gave his wife money and instructed her to escape separately. Park said, “If we gather and die in the National Assembly, at least we would die in the National Assembly. If we were to split up, all the members of the National Assembly would die anyway.” For Democratic Party legislator Jung Chung-rae, the event brought back memories of his torture under the military dictatorship and his experience in the democracy movement. He said, “While I was walking [towards the National Assembly], I thought, am I now going towards martial law soldiers, to be arrested and detained? I was thinking about the time in 1988 when I was taken by the Agency for National Security Planning and beaten for 4 hours at an unknown hotel in Euljiro.”
This chaotic and brutal history contextualizes the events of December 3, 2024, when President Yoon Suk-yeol orchestrated a self-coup attempt following unprecedented political defeats, including his party’s loss in the April 2024 National Assembly election. That night, on a televised broadcast, he declared nationwide emergency martial law, the first since the 1979 assassination of former President Park Chung-hee. In his first martial law proclamation, President Yoon’s martial law commander Park An-su called for the “처단”—a term meaning “punishment” with the implication of death—against anyone defying the decree, which effectively suppressed political activity, critics, and the press. In fact, a draft of this proclamation, only uncovered in subsequent investigations, made specific references to the declarations of martial law during the May 17 coup d'état. In a swift response, opposition Democratic Party leadership convened an emergency plenary session of the National Assembly. Civilians and legislative aides barricaded and blocked the Assembly building to prevent special forces from entering, and by 1 a.m., Yoon’s martial law declaration was thwarted through a unanimous vote by 190 legislators, including 18 legislators from Yoon’s own conservative People Power Party (PPP).
In the aftermath, however, the PPP took steps to shield Yoon from legal repercussions and stall investigations into the events of December 3. After the declaration of emergency martial law, the PPP began to consolidate under the pro-Yoon faction, which became more apparent following the resignation of anti-Yoon party leader Han Dong-hoon, one of the targets on Yoon’s arrest and rumored assassination list. The party boycotted impeachment motions, delayed the appointments of justices to the Constitutional Court, and supported measures to prevent Yoon’s arrest by the Corruption Investigation Office for High-Ranking Officials (CIO). While President Yoon and many in his inner circle have now been arrested and face charges of insurrection, the PPP’s actions to obstruct justice and sustain Yoon’s presidency implicate them as co-conspirators in the ongoing insurrection. Therefore, under the Constitution of South Korea and based on historical precedent, the People Power Party’s complicity in and participation in acts of insurrection warrant its disbandment to safeguard democracy during this precarious time.
Unlike many other countries, the Constitution of South Korea explicitly provides grounds for the dissolution of a political party, stating, “If the purposes or activities of a political party are contrary to the fundamental democratic order, the Government may bring an action against it in the Constitutional Court for its dissolution, and the political party shall be dissolved in accordance with the decision of the Constitutional Court.” In other words, any political party that undermines the principles of democracy can be legally disbanded. Therefore, it is crucial to not only assess whether Yoon’s actions during the ongoing martial law crisis constitute insurrection but also examine whether the PPP was complicit.
The Constitution of South Korea stipulates specific conditions under which martial law may be imposed, which is when it is “required to cope with a military necessity or to maintain the public safety and order by mobilization of the military forces in time of war, armed conflict or similar national emergency.” However, the situation preceding Yoon's declaration on December 3 clearly met none of these conditions; South Korea was not in active war, armed conflict, or national emergency at the time. Instead, Yoon justified the imposition of emergency martial law by claiming it was necessary to eliminate “pro-North Korean anti-state forces” within the National Assembly, who “attempted to paralyze the nation’s judicial administration system through legislative dictatorship and overthrow the liberal democracy system.” This rationale blatantly contravened the constitutional requirement for declaring martial law and directly sought to suspend the functioning of the National Assembly.
Under South Korean criminal law, the charge of insurrection is defined as “a person who creates violence for the purpose of usurping the national territory or subverting the Constitution” and is established if one interferes with the function of constitutional institutions such as the National Assembly. Yoon’s attempt to suspend the National Assembly’s operations and his deployment of armed special forces to its premises fulfill this definition. Moreover, his orders included the authorization of lethal force in the National Assembly and kidnapping directives targeting National Assembly members, exacerbating the gravity of his actions. These acts meet the Supreme Court of Korea’s broad interpretation of “violence,” encompassing any form of assault, intimidation, exercise of force, or threats of harm that instill terror.
Unfortunately, precedent for such charges against the president is well established in South Korea. In the trials of former Presidents Chun Doo-hwan and Roh Tae-woo for their roles in the May 17th coup d'état, both were convicted on the charges of insurrection in 1996. In their appeal, the Supreme Court in this case held that “acts that render it impossible for constitutional institutions to exercise its power or seize control of the government through violence, rather than through the democratic procedures prescribed by the Constitution, cannot be tolerated under any circumstances. Therefore, such acts of military rebellion and insurrection are subject to punishment.” Furthermore, it affirmed that while the judiciary’s authority to assess the legitimacy of martial law declarations is limited, the act of declaring or expanding martial law constitutes a criminal offense if done with the intent to undermine or disrupt the Constitution. This ruling not only set a legal precedent for addressing future coup d'état attempts but underscored that interfering with the institutions established by the Constitution constituted insurrection, even if the coup was successful.
In addition to the actions taken on the night of December 3—which alone constitute the criminal offense of insurrection—there is further evidence of egregious misconduct by Yoon: the alleged false-flag plot to attack Terminal High Altitude Area Defense (THAAD) installations and Cheongju International Airport to incite war with North Korea, suspected preparations for the torture of National Election Commission employees, and Yoon’s resistance to legal summons and his initial arrest attempt. With President Yoon now facing the charge of leading an insurrection and a potential death sentence, a critical question emerges: Should his party, the People Power Party, be dissolved for its continued support of his unconstitutional actions?
The PPP’s complicity extends beyond passive support for Yoon, as party members actively obstructed efforts to uphold democratic processes. During the events of December 3, then PPP Floor Leader Choo Kyung-ho actively worked to obstruct legislative efforts to overturn martial law. He summoned PPP lawmakers to party headquarters, preventing them from attending the National Assembly vote. Approximately 60 pro-Yoon lawmakers complied, while only 18 PPP members, led by then-leader Han Dong-hoon, defied these instructions and voted to annul martial law. Later that night, he attempted to delay the plenary session of the National Assembly, even as armed special forces breached the building. Phone records reveal that Choo repeatedly requested delays under the pretense of insufficient attendance, despite the urgency of the situation. Han, who later downplayed the severity of Choo’s actions, even pressed him to join the opposition at the time—a request Choo ultimately did not accept. Choo’s deliberate attempts to obstruct the democratic process led to being named as a conspirator to the insurrection during the second successful impeachment motion against Yoon. In addition, he is currently under investigation by the National Office of Investigation for his role in the insurrection.
The PPP’s complicity did not end with the annulment of martial law. In the aftermath, the party has worked tirelessly to shield President Yoon from accountability. They sought to identify and punish the 12 members who voted for Yoon’s second impeachment motion, have labeled Yoon’s initial arrest attempt as illegal, and actively hindered efforts to investigate the insurrection. The PPP continues to shield him, even going so far as to call for the punishment of lawmakers who voted in favor of his impeachment if the current impeachment motion is rejected by the Constitutional Court. By suggesting that lawmakers in a democratic society cannot exercise their constitutional authority, the party rejects the very principles of democratic governance, not only undermining its credibility but also aligning itself with the ongoing insurrection.
The dissolution of political parties has notable precedent in recent South Korean history. In 2014, the Constitutional Court controversially disbanded the minor left-wing Unified Progressive Party (UPP), on the grounds it sought to overthrow the “fundamental democratic order.” The decision followed allegations that a UPP National Assembly member had led a meeting, attended by other party members, where participants discussed the possibility of attacking South Korean infrastructure in the event that escalating tensions with North Korea led to war.
The Unified Progressive Party’s actions were confined to internal discussions within a limited faction of the party, centered on a hypothetical scenario with no tangible plans or viable means to carry out an insurrection. In contrast, the events of December 3 involved the commander-in-chief of the armed forces—President Yoon—mobilizing special forces to attack constitutional institutions—the National Assembly and the National Election Commission. By all accounts, the scale and severity of this insurrection eclipse the circumstances that led to the Unified Progressive Party’s dissolution.
In its 2014 ruling, the Constitutional Court established a critical standard, saying, “Actions undertaken in the capacity of an influential politician belonging to a political party and closely related to the party may be considered activities of that party.” It further emphasized that the judgment should consider whether the political party authorized or encouraged such activities and effectively endorsed them as party actions by actively defending them afterward. Applying this standard to the PPP leaves little doubt about their culpability.
A political party that plots or participates in an insurrection is not merely guilty of political misconduct: it becomes an existential threat to democracy. As such, its dissolution becomes both a constitutional and moral imperative. While some PPP members initially appeared blindsided by Yoon’s actions—voting to overturn martial law and then-leader Han Dong-hoon being targeted for arrest—subsequent events have demonstrated the party’s growing complicity; insurrection is not a singular event but a continuum of actions aimed at subverting constitutional order and democracy.
The PPP’s actions during and after the December 3 insurrection constitute a direct violation of South Korea’s democratic principles and has tangible consequences, emboldening violence by Yoon’s supporters. In an alarming escalation, after President Yoon’s detention was extended due to fears of evidence destruction, Yoon’s supporters stormed the Seoul Western District Court on January 19, injuring journalists and police officers while attempting to target the presiding judge who approved Yoon’s formal arrest. Such blatant intimidation is a direct assault on the independent judicial process, and the continued existence of the PPP only fosters an environment that tolerates violence against democratic institutions.
The People Power Party has not only failed to uphold its responsibilities but has actively participated in subverting the constitutional order. To safeguard South Korea’s democracy, the next government must petition the Constitutional Court to dissolve the People Power Party. The Constitution demands action, and history will judge whether South Korea will rise to meet this moment.
Jayin Sihm (CC ‘26) is a managing editor at CPR studying philosophy and history.
Edited by Lukas Roybal and Adam Kinder.