Forget K-dramas: Korea's political crisis is the real drama

Asia Times

31-03-2025

The 2006 US comedy 'Stranger Than Fiction' follows IRS auditor Harold (Will Ferrell), who realizes he's a character in a novelist's work. As he learns that the writer plans to kill him off in the end, Harold races to confront her in real life – and she ultimately rewrites the story to let him live.
Much like bewildered Harold as he realizes what fate is in store for him, many foreign observers are finding themselves increasingly perplexed by the political landscape in South Korea, where reality seems stranger than fiction.
A leading Seoul newspaper, Chosun Ilbo, published an interesting article on March 28, 2025. It features a conversation between a Chosun Ilbo reporter and a foreign journalist who has been covering Korea.
At a recent meeting, the journalist shared his frustration: readers back home frequently complain that 'Korean news is incomprehensible.'
He cited several recent developments:
The president suddenly declared martial law on the night of December 3, 2024, without informing cabinet members, ruling party lawmakers, or even South Korea's key security ally, the US,
The leader of the main opposition party, the Democratic Party of Korea (DPK), has four prior criminal convictions and five ongoing trials, yet remains the leading presidential contender.
After passing an impeachment motion against Prime Minister Han Duck-soo on December 27, 2024, which was rejected by the Constitutional Court on March 24, 2025, the opposition party is now introducing an impeachment motion against the deputy prime minister for the economy, who had until recently been the acting president.
Readers abroad responded with disbelief, saying, 'This doesn't make any sense. Maybe the reporter misunderstood the facts and wrote inaccurate reports?'
The journalist himself admitted, 'There are so many absurd events happening in Korea that even I struggle to understand them.'
Since then, things have only grown stranger. After the Constitutional Court rejected the impeachment of Prime Minister Han on March 24, the opposition quickly vowed to try again. Then just four days later, on March 28, the DPK announced it would seek to impeach the entire cabinet.
Their urgency is not without cause. On March 26, DPK leader Lee Jae-myung was acquitted in an election law case, but the prosecution has already filed an appeal. Beyond this, he remains entangled in multiple legal battles, including a high-profile $1 billion real estate scandal. A conviction carrying a fine of just over one million South Korean won – or even a suspended sentence – would disqualify him from running for office for up to ten years.
Meanwhile, the Constitutional Court has yet to rule on the impeachment of President Yoon. What initially seemed like a decisive outcome now appears increasingly likely to be rejected as the delay continues.
Lee's troubles extend far beyond the courtroom. He is also facing open challenge within his own party.
South Korea's leftist bloc has long been split between two major factions: National Liberation (NL) and People's Democracy (PD). The NL faction emphasizes ethnic nationalism, North-South reunification under socialism and an anti-US stance.
The PD faction is more in line with Western-style progressivism.
Although Lee does not fit neatly into either camp, the NL faction clearly sees him as an enemy and is now openly challenging him.
Foreign policy is another obstacle for Lee. While Lee and his party have taken symbolic steps to affirm the US-ROK alliance – including a resolution supporting the alliance and even suggesting Donald Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize – these moves appear mostly superficial. In substance, Lee remains pro-China.
Lee is also pushing the Democratic Party in a direction that may alienate its base. His efforts to shift the party toward the center – or even the right – mirror a cautionary tale from Japan.
In 1994, the Japan Socialist Party shocked supporters by forming a coalition with its longtime rival, the Liberal Democratic Party. Its leader, Tomiichi Murayama, became prime minister and quickly abandoned core socialist policies, including opposition to the US-Japan Security Treaty.
The backlash was swift. By 1996, badly defeated in elections, the party had rebranded itself as the Social Democratic Party. It faded into irrelevance.
The lesson is clear: When a party abandons its ideological roots, it risks collapse. The Democratic Party of Korea, under Lee's leadership, may now be heading down the same path.
Lee Jae-myung's future is anything but certain. Legal jeopardy could disqualify him. Internal divisions could unseat him. And ideological drift could hollow out the movement he claims to lead.
For foreign observers, Korean politics is bewildering. But for Koreans – and their allies – it is more than just domestic turmoil. It is a test of stability in one of the world's most volatile geopolitical regions.
Hanjin Lew is a former international spokesman for South Korean conservative parties.