In a moment that will be etched into South Korea’s modern political history, former President Yoon Suk-yeol was permanently removed from office by a unanimous ruling of the Constitutional Court. Acting Chief Justice Moon Hyung-bae delivered the decisive verdict on behalf of all eight justices, affirming that Yoon’s declaration of martial law grossly violated constitutional norms, endangered democratic institutions, and trampled fundamental civil liberties.
The judgment, handed down on April 10, followed more than three months of legal deliberation and social unrest after the National Assembly voted for impeachment on December 14. It marked the longest impeachment process in the nation’s history — 111 days of legal arguments, mounting protests, and deepening national anxiety.
The crux of the ruling lay in the illegality of Yoon’s martial law declaration, a controversial measure that came amid mass protests and opposition investigations into executive overreach. According to the Court, Yoon failed to meet the stringent legal criteria required to invoke martial law, instead bypassing democratic mechanisms in a manner that “undermined constitutional order and posed a serious threat to the nation’s stability.”
This decision instantly nullified Yoon’s presidency — no appeals, no continuance, no comeback.
With that, South Korea’s highest court took one of the most dramatic steps possible in a democratic society: removing a sitting president and halting his administration in its tracks.
As the verdict loomed, acting president Han Duck-soo issued a somber appeal for calm, calling on political leaders and citizens alike to respect the decision, regardless of personal convictions. He warned against inflaming tensions or provoking unrest — a plea that reflected the tinderbox state of public sentiment.
But the plea went only so far. While the People Power Party — now leaderless and splintered — officially accepted the ruling, Yoon’s legal team condemned it as politically motivated. Their message found fertile ground among Yoon’s passionate base. Protests erupted almost immediately in Seoul and other cities, some turning violent. One pro-Yoon demonstrator smashed a police bus window with a club in central Gwanghwamun — an image symbolic of the wider fury felt by segments of the population.
This moment has crystallized the extent of South Korea’s political polarization. In Yoon’s fall, progressives saw accountability. His loyalists, meanwhile, saw betrayal.
Rather than ending the crisis, the ruling may simply mark a new and more volatile phase. Yoon’s ouster is not just the removal of a president. It’s the ignition of an electoral and ideological reckoning.
The People Power Party, fractured and reeling, is scrambling to project unity ahead of the June 3 snap presidential election. Internal power struggles are already intensifying among high-profile figures: Kim Moon-soo, a former labor minister and staunch conservative; Seoul Mayor Oh Se-hoon, with a more pragmatic centrist bent; Daegu Mayor Hong Joon-pyo, a populist; former party leader Han Dong-hoon; and Ahn Cheol-soo, the technocratic lawmaker known for bridging ideological lines.
Each commands a faction. None yet commands the party.
Their challenge is not just to win, but to restore credibility to a party whose two most recent presidents — Park Geun-hye in 2017 and now Yoon — were both impeached and removed. Without internal cohesion and a message that reaches beyond its conservative base, the party risks further erosion.
On the other side, the Democratic Party is looking to seize the momentum. Lee Jae-myung, recently cleared of corruption charges, is preparing to lead the charge. Though divisive, Lee remains a formidable campaigner and the party’s most visible figure. His campaign will focus on pushing an anti-Yoon narrative, emphasizing democratic integrity and promising to “end the cycle of chaos.”
Still, Lee is not without baggage. His combative style and checkered legal history make him a polarizing candidate in his own right. The election is not his to lose — but neither is it his to win easily.
Roughly 20 percent of the electorate remains unaligned — a decisive bloc that could swing the snap election in either direction. Both major parties must now shift focus toward these undecided voters, many of whom are disillusioned by years of corruption scandals, legislative gridlock, and hyper-partisanship.
This group tends to value stability, pragmatic governance, and transparency over ideological purity. Winning their support will require addressing bread-and-butter issues: job security, housing affordability, youth unemployment, and the rising cost of living — especially as inflation has surged in recent months.
Despite losing his official powers, Yoon remains a looming presence.
Legal proceedings are expected to ramp up in the coming weeks. Prosecutors are reportedly preparing indictments related to the martial law declaration, Yoon’s controversial veto of a special prosecutorial probe into government corruption, and a luxury gift scandal involving First Lady Kim Keon-hee. These charges could carry serious penalties — and keep Yoon in the headlines during the election cycle.
Analysts speculate that Yoon might use these proceedings to cast himself as a martyr of the conservative cause, possibly even positioning himself as a symbolic leader outside the political system. Though constitutionally barred from returning to office, his influence — much like Park Geun-hye’s post-impeachment — may not easily fade.
The presidential shakeup is also sending shockwaves through South Korea’s foreign policy, especially with the United States, China, and North Korea.
Under Yoon, relations with Washington tightened significantly, particularly around military cooperation and trade. But tensions flared in recent months after the U.S. slapped 25 percent tariffs on key South Korean exports, including semiconductors and EV batteries. Acting President Han Duck-soo has attempted to initiate talks with Washington, but a progressive administration may adopt a more confrontational stance or pivot toward diplomatic diversification, seeking warmer ties with Beijing to counterbalance U.S. economic pressure.
North Korea’s leadership has remained silent since Yoon’s impeachment but is likely watching the transition closely. A progressive president could seek renewed engagement — a sharp reversal of Yoon’s hardline policies. However, any diplomatic overtures would face skepticism both at home and abroad, especially given North Korea’s recent missile tests and cyberattacks on South Korean infrastructure.
Whoever wins the June 3 election will inherit a presidency marked by fragility and fractured public trust.
The new president will almost certainly face a hostile National Assembly, currently dominated by the Democratic Party, making legislative progress difficult. Without cross-party cooperation — a tall order in today’s climate — the presidency could become paralyzed.
Further complicating matters is the political vacuum created by Yoon’s sudden departure. Important policy initiatives — housing reform, energy transition, and military spending — have stalled. The incoming administration will need to hit the ground running to re-establish basic governance.
More than that, they must repair the democratic fabric of a nation torn between ideologies, haunted by its political past, and unsure of its institutional future.
The unanimous ruling — particularly the fact that it included conservative-leaning justices — was meant to project unity and decisiveness. It showed the judiciary acting as a final safeguard of constitutional democracy. But even a unanimous decision cannot, on its own, heal the fractures that years of polarization have carved.
South Korea is not facing a breakdown of democracy, but it is in a moment of profound democratic stress. The rules still work, the institutions still stand — but the bonds of public trust are fraying.
This impeachment, like that of Park Geun-hye before it, raises the question: Can South Korea break the cycle of corruption, scandal, and partisan warfare that keeps bringing its presidents down?
Or will it continue to careen from crisis to crisis, dragged down by a political culture in which accountability too often comes too late — and rarely without chaos?
The answer will not be decided by the courts, or even by the politicians. It will come from the people — at the ballot box, in the streets, and in their willingness to move beyond partisanship and reclaim the center ground of a democracy still very much worth saving.
