Are you red, blue or orange? How color is defining politics this election season

Korea Herald

25-05-2025

The blue vs. red rivalry feels potent again, but the contrast is not as longstanding as it may seem
In South Korea's rushed presidential election, color is doing a lot of the talking.
With policy plans still vague and party alliances in flux, the candidates have leaned heavily on clothing and color to communicate who they are. Mixing red, blue and white has become shorthand for everything from unity to rebranding.
On May 12, the Democratic Party of Korea's candidate Lee Jae-myung drew immediate attention when he changed into blue-and-red sneakers while on the stump, marking the launch of his official campaign. He also wore a blue windbreaker with his ballot number '1' printed in white, except for the red diagonal slash, a subtle but symbolic touch.
This was no coincidence.
Blue has been the color of his liberal party since 2015, while red represents his rivals in the conservative People Power Party. The color combination signaled a message of integration and national unity that transcends party lines.
'It's time to move beyond ideological fights,' Lee told supporters in Seoul. 'What matters is what helps the people.'
But while the visuals land easily, some voters say the meaning remains unclear. 'It looks like he's trying to speak to both sides,' said Nam Woo-seok, a 30-year-old logistics coordinator. 'But how do you actually do that? Color can only go so far. I couldn't see the 'how' in the most recent televised debate.'
'Color in Korean politics bends with the mood,' said Professor Hong Jae-woo, who studies political symbols at Inje University. He sees Lee's red-blue palette not as a break from the past but as a careful recalibration. 'For Lee, it's more about creating the feeling of openness, just enough to make people pause and reconsider what they thought they knew.'
Blue liberals vs. red conservatives
Today, the political symbolism of the liberal blue and the conservative red is so strong that public figures often steer clear of either color — especially during the election period — to prevent misinterpretations of their political stance.
However, this stark chromatic divide is a relatively recent development.
Historically, South Korean political parties have used colors not as fixed ideological markers, but as tools of reinvention — especially during moments of change and crisis.
In the 1990s, liberal President Kim Dae-jung's campaigns were associated with green, a symbol of peace and new politics. His successor Roh Moo-hyun famously adopted yellow, which became a powerful symbol of reform and grassroots activism, especially after Roh's tragic death in 2009, when supporters turned it into a color of mourning and solidarity.
In the mid-2010s, under Moon Jae-in, the liberals consolidated around blue, presenting a more stable and institutional image.
Blue had been the color of the conservatives until 2012, with the now-defunct Grand National Party using it as its official hue throughout its 15-year existence. The right wing switched to red when it rebranded as the Saenuri Party, a shift led by campaign strategist Jo Dong-won. Jo, a former copywriter, believed blue felt "too static and emotionless for the 2012 election setting," as he said in a 2016 local media interview.
Red, by contrast, was bold, energizing, and "seasonally fitting" for a December presidential race. He also linked the color to both passion and national pride, referencing "Red Devils," the official name for supporters of Korea's national soccer team during the 2002 World Cup co-hosted by Korea and Japan.
Despite an initial backlash due to red's Cold War associations as the color long linked to communism and North Korea, the strategy paid off. Park Geun-hye embraced red as her signature campaign color and won the presidency in December 2012.
The rebrand not only redefined conservative imagery, it served as a catalyst for a chromatic reshuffle across party lines. Liberals, previously linked to green and yellow, moved to claim blue, establishing the red-conservative and blue-liberal contrast now familiar in Korean politics.
Kim Moon-soo softens red, Lee Jun-seok sidesteps orange
Let's turn to the wardrobe of Kim Moon-soo, the conservative People Power Party candidate who is trailing frontrunner Lee. On the campaign trail, he wears a white baseball jersey with red trim, combining party branding with a more relatable tone.
The jersey is likely meant to soften his red messaging while allowing him to appeal to conservative voters without directly evoking the scandal that still looms over the party following the disgraceful ouster of conservative President Yoon Suk Yeol.
This election was triggered by the impeachment of Yoon on April 4 by a unanimous Constitutional Court decision.
The baseball motif, Professor Hong suggests, is particularly revealing: 'It reflects an attempt to reframe the party as a unified team. This symbolic cohesion is aimed less at voters than at healing the internal split that erupted after Yoon's impeachment.'
Kim's own nomination was rocky. After winning the People Power Party primary on May 3, he was briefly removed by the party leadership in favor of former acting President Han Duck-soo. A full membership vote reversed that move hours later, reinstating him as the party's presidential candidate. His white-and-red jersey, with its lack of formal stiffness, has allowed him to appear steady despite the chaos he endured.
'I think the jersey is smart,' said Choi Seung-min, a 54-year-old small business owner in Seoul, whose hometown is Daegu. 'It doesn't look too political. Right now, people are tired of big speeches. Simple is better.'
Lee Jun-seok, the third major candidate and leader of the minor Reform Party, has chosen to avoid color altogether. While his party uses orange in banners and materials, he himself has worn nothing but plain white shirts on the campaign trail.
Professor Hong argues this has less to do with color politics and more with personality branding. 'Lee Jun-seok's white shirt reflects the logic of 'Lee Jun-seok's Reform Party,' not the Reform Party's Lee Jun-seok,' he said.
But for some voters, the simplicity can feel empty. 'I get that he's trying to be different, not wearing the official orange color.' said Park Ji-hyun, a 28-year-old office worker in Seoul. 'But I wish he'd say more. I don't need more symbols or different colors. I want to see specific answers and solutions.'
Even Professor Hong is cautious about how much color matters. 'Because the symbolic color schemes of both major parties have been established for more than a decade, slight modifications don't really influence voters. They notice, but they don't mistake a red trim for a new ideology or a genuine change in political philosophy,' he said.