On the night of 3 to 4 December 2024, South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol imposed a state of emergency and martial law across the country. However, this measure was revoked just five and a half hours later after Parliament voted against it. What led to such a peculiar and evidently losing move for the administration, and what are the likely political consequences?
Prelude
First, the Myung Tae-kyun case could serve as significant incriminating evidence, although the emergence of new evidence had strange origins and might turn out to be fake, reminiscent of the “Choi Soon-sil tablet scandal”.
Second, tensions between Yoon Suk Yeol and Han Dong-hoon, leader of the People Power Party, had worsened, increasing the likelihood that the Democratic Party, just eight votes shy of what they needed, might manage to secure the numbers.
As a result, NGOs linked to the Democrats—trade unions, university lecturers, and even Catholic priests—began loudly demanding the President’s impeachment. This led to a formal impeachment initiative being tabled in Parliament.
Meanwhile, the Democratic Party was sabotaging parliamentary work, including proposing budget cuts that would hurt the President most. They halved the government’s reserve fund and imposed drastic reductions on law enforcement agencies, the Presidential Administration, and all of Yoon’s favoured initiatives—from anti-drug campaigns to a gas drilling project in the Sea of Japan. Simultaneously, they pushed for impeachment proceedings against the Defence Minister (accused of wanting to impose martial law), the Prosecutor General (for continuing investigations against Chairman Lee), and the head of the Board of Audit and Inspection (who had dared to provide evidence of Moon Jae-in’s financial misconduct).
A Coup That Went Awry
In his address to the nation, President Yoon Suk Yeol declared his intention to defend the constitutional order. However, his statements combined claims about the Democrats’ actions, which paralysed Parliament’s legislative functions, with allegations of “anti-state” and “pro-North Korean” forces. Explicitly stating that this was being done to shield Lee Jae-myung from prosecution, Yoon remarked, “The National Assembly has become a haven for criminals, paralysing the judiciary and administrative systems and attempting to overthrow the liberal democratic system through legislative dictatorship”.
This marked the first declaration of emergency martial law since December 1979, when Chun Doo-hwan seized power. Under the Constitution, the President may declare martial law in response to wartime needs, armed conflict, national emergencies, or threats to public safety and order. However, Parliament retains the authority to overturn such a decision with a simple majority vote.
The declaration was followed by a predictable set of measures: banning all political activities by the National Assembly and political parties, prohibiting “false propaganda and fake news”, as well as demonstrations, strikes, and similar actions. The media was to come under military control, while assurances were made “to minimise disruptions to civilians daily lives”.
Yet when military vehicles began appearing in the streets, it didn’t resemble a well-prepared operation. Normally, such plans would involve the pre-emptive arrest of opposition leaders and the military securing key locations.
Moreover, most officials and security forces were caught off guard by the announcement. Neither Prime Minister Han Duck-soo nor ruling party leader Han Dong-hoon had been informed. Even Washington learned of the South Korean President’s decision from news reports, prompting the White House to issue a statement emphasising that “democracy is the foundation of the US-ROK alliance” and asserting that all political disputes should be resolved peacefully and in accordance with the rule of law. They added that “the President, National Security Advisor, and Secretary of State have been briefed on the situation and are closely monitoring developments”.
The President’s actions were sharply criticised, even by members of his own ruling party
Predictably, such a drastic move triggered an immediate backlash. Han Dong-hoon, the ruling party leader, promptly condemned the declaration of martial law as wrong and pledged to “stand with the people to block it”. Simultaneously, Lee Jae-myung called on supporters to gather near Parliament to “defend democracy”. Despite the building being cordoned off, protesters began pushing past security forces, who offered little resistance.
By around 1 a.m. — just two hours after Yoon’s address — 190 lawmakers (enough for a quorum!) had assembled inside the National Assembly and voted unanimously to overturn the martial law decree. Notably, those voting against martial law included members of the ruling party, including Han Dong-hoon. The special forces unit dispatched to secure the Parliament building failed to arrive in time.
Subsequently, the military began retreating, and shortly thereafter, Yoon Suk Yeol announced the cancellation of martial law. In his follow-up statement, the President claimed that he had introduced the measure with “a resolute desire to save the country from anti-state forces attempting to paralyse key state functions and undermine the constitutional order of liberal democracy”.
However, since members of the National Assembly voted to revoke the state of martial law, the deployed troops were withdrawn. Nonetheless, Yoon Suk Yeol criticised the opposition’s handling of the 2025 budget and their impeachment attempts against officials, demanding an end to such actions.
Of course, it is fortunate that, after Parliament overturned martial law, Yoon refrained from further escalation. In a deeply polarised society, such actions could have led to bloodshed—something the public would never have forgiven him for, regardless of the outcome.
What Was the Point?
The attempt to “eradicate pro-North Korean forces and protect the liberal constitutional order” through this means ultimately failed. Some colleagues of the author have even described the move as “political suicide broadcast live”, and there are reasons for such a characterisation. In earlier analyses, the author noted that if the administration pursued this course, the outcome would not resemble successful coups of the past but rather the failed 1991 Soviet coup, where the actions of the State Committee on the State of Emergency (GKChP) only consolidated support for reform.
The President couldn’t have been unaware of the possibility of Parliament, where the Democrats hold a majority, revoking martial law. He also couldn’t have failed to appreciate that the South Korean army, kept out of politics since the 1990s, wouldn’t fire on the people or enthusiastically carry out orders to seize power, even if given.
Regarding the President’s motives, several theories exist, and we should move beyond the democratic narrative portraying Yoon as a power-hungry fool.
The first theory suggests that the President succumbed to prolonged stress caused by the political situation. On a human level, this is entirely understandable; however, a national leader must remain calm and composed. It might also be advisable for him to limit his exposure to conservative YouTubers and their theories about pro-North Korean conspiracies.
The second theory posits that the idea may have been proposed by Defence Minister Kim Young-hyun, a long-time acquaintance of Yoon and his schoolmate, who previously headed the Presidential Security Service. The decision was reportedly made within a very narrow circle, and the initiative may not have come from the President himself but from his “trusted entourage”. A similar dynamic was observed during the presidency of Park Geun-hye, when the National Intelligence Service allegedly paid her aides to keep her in an “information cocoon”. In this case, hawkish advisers may have imposed their agenda on the President.
The third theory suggests that, for reasons which may or may not eventually come to light, the President decided to act as quickly as possible, despite the apparent risks associated with such a move. His reasoning might have been that preemptive action represented the “lesser of two evils”.
The fourth theory builds upon the third but introduces the possibility of disinformation being deliberately fed to the President and his inner circle. The aim could have been to provoke the administration into taking an ill-fated step, ensuring there would be no return to the status quo.
Unsurprisingly, the current situation has given rise to numerous conspiracy theories. Among them, the author finds particularly intriguing the notion that the United States may have been involved. According to this theory, Yoon’s stance on Ukraine was seen as too inflexible, prompting dissatisfaction in Washington. After a delegation from Kyiv, led by Defence Minister Rustem Umerov, left South Korea empty-handed, U.S. intelligence may have supplied Seoul with (dis)information that prompted this drastic misstep.
One could even entertain the idea that the outgoing U.S. administration sought to instigate an inter-Korean conflict as part of a broader strategy to create hotspots around Russia. However, the actions of the South Korean government suggest that the martial law declaration was driven by domestic rather than international political considerations. If the goal had been to provoke a conflict between North and South Korea, it would have been far simpler to use non-governmental organisations distributing provocative leaflets targeting Pyongyang.
What Will Happen Now?
The prospects for Yoon Suk Yeol in the current situation are far from enviable. The State Council and the leadership of the Presidential Administration are resigning, and the ruling party plans to expel the President from its ranks. The Democratic Party has already demanded that the President resign immediately, warning that if he does not, they will swiftly initiate impeachment proceedings. This is because Yoon’s declaration of martial law in the absence of justified circumstances constitutes a clear violation of the Constitution. Han Dong-hoon has also called on the President to explain his decision and to dismiss the Defence Minister.
The opposition now holds the advantage. A logical response from their side would be to initiate impeachment proceedings, which would likely gain the support of a significant portion of conservatives.
The conservative party finds itself in a more advantageous position. Since its leadership vehemently opposed the declaration of martial law, it has managed to distance itself from the President. Against the backdrop of current events, it is likely that Han Dong-hoon will consolidate his leadership. If Lee Jae-myung is eventually disqualified by an impartial court, Han could have a strong chance of becoming the next President of the Republic of Korea.
As for the impact of this purely domestic “infighting” on Russian interests, the outcomes are mixed. On one hand, due to the logic of factional struggles, Yoon’s successor may reverse his policies, potentially steering the country’s course towards being less pro-American. On the other hand, a victory for the Democratic Party is unlikely to drastically alter South Korea’s foreign policy, as Democrats are equally aligned with the United States in terms of values. Moreover, a Democratic administration could potentially worsen relations with Russia for several reasons.
Firstly, the populism characteristic of Democratic politicians like Lee Jae-myung often drives media-centric decisions made under emotional pressure, with less regard for long-term consequences. For instance, while the pragmatist Yoon Suk-yeol refrained from altering arms policy despite being shown Bucha and Irpin, a populist in the same situation might react dramatically, expressing shock and declaring South Korean arms support for Ukraine.
Secondly, the Democrats’ ideological leanings are closer to those of European left-wing parties, implying greater sympathy towards Ukraine.
Thirdly, in the context of Seoul-Washington relations, while Yoon Suk-yeol sacrificed the inter-Korean agenda to maintain some flexibility in relations with Russia and China, the Democrats are highly likely to do the opposite.
This marks the end of the current analysis, though it is more of a comma than a full stop. Clearly, developments will continue to unfold rapidly, and significant additional details will emerge in subsequent updates.
Konstantin Asmolov, PhD in History, Senior Research Fellow at the Centre for Korean Studies, Institute of China and Contemporary Asia, Russian Academy of Sciences