South Korea’s political upheaval: The background and implications of recent developments

The historical backdrop: from colonialism to comprador capitalism

The genesis of South Korea’s modern political economy lies in imperialism. During Japanese colonial rule (1910–45), Korea was forcibly integrated into the capitalist world system as a supplier of cheap labor, raw materials, and a launching pad for further expansion by imperial Japan, while its indigenous opposition movements were brutally suppressed. After Japan’s defeat in 1945, the United States led the division of Korea and the military occupation of its southern part (1945–48).

It systematically dismantled the People’s Committees and installed a reactionary regime under Syngman Rhee, setting the stage for decades of right-wing dictatorship. The Korean War (1950–53) further entrenched this trajectory, as the South became a frontline U.S. client state in the Cold War, its political landscape purged of opposition forces. In rural areas, popular support for democratic change sparked major uprisings, beginning with the Jeju Uprising in 1948, where tens of thousands were massacred for resisting the emerging U.S.-backed regime.

Despite brutal crackdowns, resistance persisted. The people faced authoritarian rule under Syngman Rhee and subsequent military regimes, all heavily supported by the United States. These regimes, fiercely anti-communist and dominated by landlords, capitalists, and military elites, ruled through violence and fear. Nationalist leaders like Kim Koo and Yeo Woon-young, who advocated a peaceful and democratic transition, were assassinated, widely believed to be with Rhee’s and U.S. complicity.

The Park Chung-hee dictatorship (1961–79) marked the consolidation of a comprador bourgeoisie—a capitalist class subservient to foreign (primarily US) capital. Park’s “developmental dictatorship” relied on state-backed chaebol monopolies (Samsung, Hyundai, etc.), exploited labor (with unions crushed by state violence), and total alignment with U.S. geopolitical interests. This model delivered rapid industrialization but at the cost of extreme inequality and political repression.

Underground resistance and demands for democratic rights never ceased. The 1980 Gwangju Uprising was a defining moment, as citizens heroically rose against Chun Doo-hwan’s dictatorship and were met with brutal military force, again with tacit U.S. approval. The massacre exposed the deep collusion between Korea’s military rulers, U.S. imperial interests, and domestic elites. Massive public mobilization eventually forced democratic reforms in 1987.

The 1987 June Uprising, which overthrew military rule, won formal democracy but left capitalist class power intact. The chaebol continued to dominate the economy, while successive governments—whether nominally “liberal” (like Kim Dae-jung and Roh Moo-hyun) or openly conservative (like Lee Myung-bak)—served the interests of domestic capital and U.S. imperialism.

The rise of Yoon Suk-yeol

Yoon’s rise to power in 2022 reflected deeper systemic crises: Decades of neoliberal policies had led to skyrocketing household debt, rampant precarious labor, and high youth unemployment. The chaebol conglomerates, integral to South Korea’s capitalist development under U.S. imperial domination, funneled wealth upward while the ordinary workforce gained no improvement. Yoon’s election victory by just 0.7% was less a mandate than a reflection of bourgeois liberalism’s failure to address working-class suffering.

His campaign fused anti-communist hysteria with populist resentment, positioning himself as a staunch U.S. ally, endorsing expanded military drills, the THAAD missile system (THAAD had been installed before Yoon), and NATO’s expansion into Asia, in military cooperation with Japan, which are all key to Washington’s containment strategy against China. Meanwhile, Yoon’s government targeted trade unions, pressured independent media, and stifled dissent with increasingly authoritarian tools. Yet through it all, the United States continued to praise him as a “global democratic leader,” even as civil society in South Korea rang alarm bells.

Despite glowing praise from Western commentators, South Korea’s democracy under President Yoon Suk Yeol showed alarming signs of fragility. Behind this façade, the warning signs were mounting. A former prosecutor, Yoon openly promised to create a “Republic of Prosecution,” wielding the judiciary as a political weapon. His administration launched relentless legal harassment campaigns against opposition figures like Lee Jae-myung, who faced multiple lawsuits and hundreds of raids, and other politicians such as Cho Kuk, who was jailed on fabricated charges, his wife who served in jail for four years and his daughter who lost her medical doctor’s license and degrees.

Martial law and the attempted coup

The tipping point came when Yoon declared martial law on December 3, 2024—an act constitutionally reserved for wartime or extreme national emergencies. None existed. Instead, this was a preemptive strike against the legislature, and a desperate attempt to torpedo mounting allegations of illegal scandals around Yoon and his wife, and was designed to stifle a democratic check on executive power.

Legislators were blocked by troops, Parliament was occupied, and intelligence services were ordered to arrest opposition leaders. The coup attempt was not an isolated power grab but a response to mass unrest: By late 2024, historic nationwide strikes led by the Korean Confederation of Trade Unions (KCTU), protests against U.S. military expansion, and an opposition victory in National Assembly elections had signaled a crisis of governability. In response, legislators barricaded themselves inside the National Assembly to vote down the decree.

Outside, thousands of citizens formed human walls around the National Assembly, fearing the return of military dictatorship. Ordinary citizens—including three sisters, former public servant Yoo Hyun-joo (66), Hyun-sil (60), and picture book author Hyun-mi (57)—rushed to Seoul’s National Assembly to block a potential coup. They formed human barricades, documented troop movements, and amplified protests through makeshift broadcasts, while trade unions vowed a general strike.

Despite fears of violence, their collective resolve turned the tide, preserving democracy in a night etched by intergenerational solidarity and quiet heroism. The Power of Truth Foundation later chronicled their stories so that this moment is not remembered as a footnote, but as a testimony to individual courage.

In the end, the coup was only thwarted due to the legislature’s quick gathering at the National Assembly in response to Lee Jae-myung’s call on social media. Some 190 Assembly members appeared just in time to vote before the military could storm. The public also responded swiftly, converging to prevent arrests and the occupation of Parliament. Meanwhile, frontline military officers delayed action, including a holdup in helicopter deployment due to airspace clearance issues, circumstances that gave the legislature enough time to act.

Yoon’s secret provocations against North Korea

Behind the scenes, Yoon’s regime was engineering a constitutional pretext for martial law. Leaked military reports and investigative journalism revealed:

• Mongolia operation (Nov 2024): DIC agents were arrested attempting to contact North Korean officials via Mongolian intelligence. The Defense Ministry initially lied, calling it “routine exchanges”—until MBC exposed their deportation and a formal apology to Mongolia.
• Drone flights over Pyongyang: The military later claimed drones “burned in a warehouse fire”—a suspected cover-up of unauthorized incursions into North Korean airspace.
• Border escalations: Pilots testified to orders to fly provocatively near North Korean posts, while artillery units rehearsed shelling drills mirroring the 2010 Yeonpyeong Island attack, which killed two civilians.

North Korea refused to react. Instead of retaliating, Pyongyang built defensive walls, leaving Yoon without the “armed conflict” required by Article 77 of the Constitution to justify martial law.

The plot’s grotesque dimensions emerged thanks to Kim Eo-jun, South Korea’s top news podcaster. After fleeing arrest on December 3 (his studio surrounded by soldiers), Kim revealed a tip from an “allied foreign nation”—widely understood to be the U.S.—detailing:

• An assassination team tasked with killing Han Dong-hoon, Yoon’s estranged former ally.
• False-flag operations: Buried North Korean uniforms to fake Northern aggression; plans to kill U.S. soldiers to drag the U.S. into war.
• Staged drone attacks using North Korean-made weapons.

The U.S. likely leaked this to thwart Yoon. With 80+ bases in South Korea—including Camp Humphreys, the largest overseas U.S. base—and 24/7 access to South Korean military command, Washington knew. As security expert KJ Noh noted, “The South Korean military simply becomes the U.S. military. It’s an appendage of the U.S. military. This is something that was started in 1950 in July during the Korean War, and essentially, it’s never changed.… that’s like saying that you know you own the car when it’s being driven and the other person owns the car when it’s in the garage, and they can change the oil and maintain it but the only time that a car matters, is when you’re driving.” Yoon’s gambit risked a war the USA didn’t want.

Mass resistance, media silence, and the façade of U.S. democracy promotion

Crucially, the attempted coup did not come out of nowhere. In the weeks prior, over 100,000 South Koreans had already taken to the streets demanding Yoon’s resignation. The protests were a broad coalition: workers, students, intellectuals, small business owners, and even dissenting military factions united against Yoon’s regime, with strong anti-imperialist currents challenging U.S. military influence. Yet Western media outlets largely ignored the scale and significance of the protests. This blackout was not incidental—it reflected a broader unwillingness to acknowledge Yoon’s authoritarian drift because he remained a strategic ally.

The timing made the hypocrisy even more glaring. Just days before the martial law decree, Yoon had hosted the U.S.-backed Summit for Democracy. Even as he cracked down on striking medical workers and jailed political opponents, U.S. officials—including Secretary of State Antony Blinken—praised South Korea as “one of the strongest, most dynamic democracies in the world.”

Given the deep military integration between South Korea and the United States, it is hard to believe Washington was unaware of Yoon’s plans. The U.S. retains wartime operational control (OPCON) over South Korean forces and maintains joint command structures such as U.S. Special Operations Command Korea (SOCKOR), which works closely with South Korean Special Forces. That same Special Warfare Command was central to Yoon’s attempted coup.

Moreover, the delayed deployment of helicopters—allegedly due to airspace clearance—raises further suspicion. The U.S. maintains comprehensive air surveillance across the Korean peninsula and would almost certainly have been aware of such unusual activity. When asked, the Pentagon refused to comment on whether it was notified in advance—an omission that speaks volumes.

In the wake of the failed coup, Yoon’s government spiraled into crisis. South Korea has a history of holding leaders accountable for overstepping their authority. Syngman Rhee was forced to resign in 1960 after mass protests. Park Chung-hee was assassinated by his intelligence chief in 1979. The two generals, Chun Doo-hwan and Roh Tae-woo, who led the U.S.-backed 1980 military coup and later served as presidents, both served jail time. More recently, Park Geun-hye was impeached and imprisoned for corruption in 2017. Yoon Suk-yeol was impeached and removed from office on December 14, 2024, triggered by mass protests following the declaration of martial law on December 3. The Constitutional Court upheld the impeachment on April 4, 2025, exposing the gravity of his actions, which include criminal charges for insurrection—a capital offense under South Korean law.

Yoon’s impeachment was the result of intense mass mobilization, revealing the limits of bourgeois legality under popular pressure. Although the court’s decision upheld the law, it was ultimately forced under the weight of public demand, demonstrating how legal institutions often protect elite interests until challenged by mass political forces. Adding to the tension, the military’s cancellation of leave has raised fears of further unrest, as the country prepares for elections set for June 3, 2025.

Yoon’s survival up to now is less a testament to domestic approval (below 30% since taking office) than to U.S. strategic loyalty. His aggressive stance toward China and North Korea made him valuable to Washington. In that light, his democratic credentials seem secondary.

This underscores a broader and troubling trend: The U.S.’s willingness to overlook or excuse democratic backsliding in client states, so long as those states toe the geopolitical line. While imperialist powers initially supported Yoon’s anti-communism, his coup attempt threatened regional stability, leading to the tacit withdrawal of backing. The priority of global capital, not democratic principles, dictated their response.

The U.S. had praised Yoon at its earlier Summit for Democracy, proving again that “alliances” trump democracy. U.S. interest for years has been a joint military command with Japan and South Korea, but past South Korean leaders refused to comply due to anti-Japanese sentiment.

Yoon, being pro-U.S. and pro-Japan, finally agreed to it. The U.S. likely quietly supported Yoon’s power grab to make sure this deal stayed in place before a more nationalist leader like Lee Jae-myung could undo it. When Yoon served the interests of the U.S., his authoritarianism was ignored. While publicly playing neutral, even leaking information to Yoon’s opponents to distance itself, the U.S. ultimately prioritized its long-term goal of locking in South Korea’s military integration with Japan.

Tolerating Yoon’s authoritarianism was a calculated risk. (Parallels to Ukraine’s Zelensky come to mind.) Only when he endangered imperial stability did Washington act—via back-channel leaks, not public condemnation. At another time of leadership excess—the 1980 massacre at Gwangju, where thousands of heroically resisting civilians were killed—the U.S. similarly pleaded ignorance.

The South Korean crisis is not just a national scandal—it is a global indictment of U.S. foreign policy. For decades, the United States has championed “democracy promotion” as a pillar of its international policy. However, when an allied regime engages in authoritarian behavior, that commitment can evaporate.

The U.S. backing of Yoon’s rise and near-coup demonstrates how easily democratic values are sacrificed when they clash with strategic interests. The public sees this. The language of democracy is increasingly viewed as hollow propaganda when it is used to justify or ignore repression. Across the globe, the pattern is the same: Washington backs “democracy” when convenient and discards it when inconvenient. The failed coup in South Korea is a rupture in that narrative—a moment when the mask slipped.

Yoon’s impeachment and South Korea’s outlook

The Constitutional Court’s unanimous decision on April 4, 2025, to uphold Yoon’s impeachment officially marked the end of his presidency, confirming that his martial law declaration was a grave violation of the Constitution. The court found that his actions—including deploying military forces to block legislators and ordering the arrest of judges—were not only illegal but emblematic of an authoritarian power grab. He was impeached on civil war charges over the failed coup, but the National Assembly dropped foreign conflict charges—accusing him of provoking North Korea—after the military cited “sensitive military secrets” to withhold evidence, a longstanding conservative tactic.

This ruling underscores that Yoon’s actions went beyond political maneuvering: They were a direct assault on South Korea’s democratic institutions, constituting a clear abuse of state power. The court’s decision, while legally sound, highlights the deeper contradictions of a legal system that often bends to the will of the powerful until faced with mass resistance. Yoon’s attempt to use state forces against the legislative and judicial branches of government was, in essence, a preemptive coup disguised as legal authority.

South Korea’s establishment survived the coup attempt, but only just. It was saved by improvisation, timing, and a public drawing strength from its collective memory of past dictatorships, unwilling to surrender hard-won freedoms. President Yoon’s treasonous overreach and the West’s muted response are not just cause for national reflection but global reckoning. The silence in South Korean politics on U.S. involvement highlights deep-seated hegemonic influence. Even relatively progressive leaders like Lee Jae-myung avoid openly criticizing the U.S., reflecting South Korea’s reluctance to confront US influence. The left’s role is to raise awareness of U.S. interference, challenging the systemic constraints that limit real accountability.

The U.S. seeks to deploy South Korea’s large military (the world’s biggest when including reserves) in potential conflicts with China or elsewhere—a contentious issue, especially with Lee Jae-myung likely opposing such a move. Historically, Seoul officially justified U.S. troop presence solely as a deterrent against North Korea, though it has previously contributed forces to U.S. wars in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan—ostensibly in non-combat roles.

The nation must first reduce its dependence on U.S. geopolitical interests, beginning with the withdrawal of 28,500 U.S. troops and ending the OPCON agreement that grants Washington wartime control over South Korean forces. Simultaneously, it must break the stranglehold of the chaebol conglomerates through antitrust measures, progressive taxation, and workplace democratization.

Democratic institutions require strengthening through security sector reform, media diversification, and enhanced civic participation. A just transition addressing inequality and climate change, through shorter work weeks, expanded public services, and renewable energy adoption, is essential for social stability. The history of the South Korean people is a testament to their heroism and their power to change.

This is more than South Korea’s challenge alone. In an era of global democratic backsliding, the nation’s struggle to reconcile geopolitical pressures, corporate power, and popular sovereignty offers lessons for all societies facing similar tensions between formal democracy and substantive self-determination. The world should observe because this is where the future of democracy worldwide may be decided.