What South Korea’s crisis reveals about modern democracy
In less than 48 hours, on Dec.3, South Korea found itself under martial law by the order of President Yoon Suk Yeol — a turn of events almost unbelievable in its sheer surreality. Tanks rolled into the streets of Seoul and congress members scaled barricades to enter parliament, creating a dramatic spectacle of democratic collapse. The turmoil, which ended in a quick repeal of martial law amid overwhelming public protests and government opposition, exposed the fragility of South Korea's democracy. And although overwhelming public disdain for President Yoon eliminates any immediate threats to the country, the line between democracy and authoritarianism has never been thinner.
Thousands of South Korean citizens protest outside President Yoon's office in the capitol on Dec.4, demanding his resignation amid impeachment efforts.
Photo Credit: Free Malaysia Times
Division both within the national assembly and public has set back South Korea to its 1970s military era when pro-democracy movements like the Gwanju uprisings were dismissed as “communist riots” and became excuses to carry out mass detentions, torture and extrajudicial killings. Of course, the catalyst for President Yoons rampage was an amalgamation of ongoing personal scandals, pushback on his proposed 69-hour work week legislation (among other anti-union policies) and a lack of progress on denuclearization with North Korea. This isn’t just about President Yoon or any single administration, though; it’s about the conditions that allow something as extreme as martial law to be deployed in a modern democracy.
Political polarization in South Korea has reached a breaking point, with both sides increasingly incapable of constructive dialogue, divided along ideological lines. As in the United States, the right has almost embraced authoritarian nostalgia while the left struggles to maintain ideological clarity. Divisions over economics, foreign affairs, and civil rights are exactly the kind of cracks fascists’, by the likes of President Yoon and Donald Trump, slip through — and we’ve seen it happen before.
Fascism ultimately thrives in chaos and disillusionment, feeding on the public despair over systemic failures. In the United States, it’s undeniable we are living in such insecure times: citizens are being stripped of fundamental rights, unable to financially sustain their families, and losing faith in institutions that are supposed to protect their welfare. Billions of taxpayer dollars fund a mismanaged healthcare system and administration, while the nation engages in unjustified military operations abroad.
The far right is losing humanity and has consequently normalized political violence, from state repression in South Korea to the Capitol riots in the United States. This is not a conscious embrace of fascism by its supporters, however, but an unconscious reaction to the system’s dysfunction. People are angry, frustrated, and crucially lacking the ideological tools to channel their rage productively. This is partly why — as even democrats admit — Trump was able to win the 2024 presidential election: he leveraged this anger to strategically stir up voters.
Even those who strongly identify with a party often, unknowingly contradict themselves. “Republicans” will openly decry for-profit insurance while voting for deregulation — a policy that only exacerbates the issue. The recent assassination of United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson, however, is a case in which the shared anguish experienced by Americans, conquered this political polarization. Illustrated by the lack of sympathy for Thompson’s murder, most Americans can agree there must be some restructuring of the current for-profit healthcare system — even if this pressure campaign goes to extremes.
Violence, suppression and disillusionment are ultimately the tell-tale signs of a nation under risk of fascism. The apathy many — especially teens — feel towards politics does present the greatest threat to democracy. Relentless violence, an overload of information and an increasingly complex and intimidating media landscape is demoralizing after all. But to settle in this defeat is to remain stagnant as a people; we must find ways to radicalize ourselves healthily in order to constructively address the system's flaws.