On April 4, South Korea’s Constitutional Court voted unanimously to remove President Yoon Suk Yeol from office. Yoon was impeached (and “suspended” from office) by the Parliament on December 14, 2024, but could not be legally removed from office until the Court ruled. Now that it has, Yoon is not only out of office but also faces criminal trial for “insurrection.”

This is a big deal! It is the culmination (for now) of four months of intense struggle that shook all of South Korean society, from top to bottom. Struggle that was fought in the streets and plazas, in courtrooms and parliament, on campuses and social media. 

The Beginning: President Yoon Suk Yeol Declares Martial Law

Yoon is a leader of the right-wing People’s Power Party (PPP) and was elected president in 2022. A British military analyst approvingly described him as “a very pro-Western, pro-American, pro-business, pro-Trumpist president.”

At about 10:30 p.m. on Tuesday, December 3, Yoon began a “speech to the nation,” railing against North Korean plots, stolen elections and “obstruction” of his program by the largest “mainstream” political party, and said he would “eradicate the shameless pro-North, anti-state forces.” 

Then four minutes in, he declared martial law. All independent political activity was banned, from street protests to meetings of Parliament and everything in between. The press would be subject to state control. People’s civil rights were suspended. 

As he spoke, troops were smashing their way into the National Assembly Hall and surrounding it outside, in order to prevent it from convening in order to stop Yoon’s takeover. Later, the commander of the Army Special Warfare unit would testify that Yoon had ordered him to “drag out” any legislators in the hall. (Under South Korea law, a presidential declaration of martial law can be overruled by the Parliament… but not if they aren’t able to meet!) And another military commander was found to have a list of 500 people to be arrested in the “first wave,” including “30-50 lawmakers,” “100-200 journalists,” and leaders of major unions.

More was in motion. Blackhawk helicopters were flying overhead. Troops were sent to offices of the National Election Commission (NEC) to assess the “necessity of an investigation into alleged election fraud” in the April 2024 elections, which had delivered a landslide defeat to Yoon’s PPP. (Yoon claimed that election machines had been “hacked” by North Korea—sound familiar?) 

In other words, this was the implementation of full-out fascism, aiming to snuff out any resistance before people even knew what hit them.

South Korea’s History Fuels Torrent of Resistance

In South Korea, fascist dictatorship is not a faraway terror or ancient history. From 1948 to 1988, South Korea was ruled almost continuously by one or another brutal, U.S.-backed dictator. Martial law was declared 16 times in those 40 years. Fear was everywhere—if you went out without your ID, or after curfew, or said the wrong thing, you could easily disappear into a “reeducation camp.”

When people rebelled, they were met with massive force. In the most infamous case, South Korean military forces—with the approval of the U.S.—sent in elite paratroopers, tanks, armored personnel carriers and helicopters to crush an uprising in Gwangju. About 2,000 people were slaughtered in a few hours!

Because of this history, Yoon’s declaration of martial law sent shockwaves through large parts of Korean society. Mi-rye, a 64-year-old woman, told CNN, “A sense of fear completely overwhelmed me” when she heard Yoon’s speech. Unable to sleep, she traveled from her home city of Paju to the capital city, Seoul. 

But it wasn’t just older folk. Fifteen-year-old Moon Seo-yeon rushed to join the protests on Wednesday, December 4, saying that under Yoon society was going “backward.” She added, “I may not be old or very knowledgeable, but since the country is in a state of emergency, I want to contribute.”

Mobilizing—in Real Time

By 1 a.m. Wednesday, thousands were at the parliament building, creating enough tumult for anti-Yoon legislators to slip past the police and military, climb over the barricades and barbed wire, and gather enough votes to overrule Yoon’s declaration. Meanwhile, in the streets, military and police clashed with protesters. A spokeswoman from the opposition party was photographed grabbing a soldier’s gun by the barrel, shouting “aren’t you ashamed!” Other protesters blocked armored vehicles. Many stayed in the streets until Yoon officially “ended” the state of martial law at about 4:30 a.m.

In the next day or two, street protests continued and different sections of the people weighed in. A popular actor posted, “I never thought I’d live to experience martial law. Watching soldiers block the National Assembly—what is this?” At Korea University, 370 professors and researchers announced a joint declaration calling for Yoon's impeachment. In Gwangju, nine groups quickly came together to organize protests and issued a statement: Yoon “is no longer the president of South Korea. We urge the military and police not to obey the unjust orders of dictator Yoon Suk Yeol.” People in the news media gathered outside the Korea Press Center to declare, “This is no mere criticism—we're waging war against President Yoon Suk Yeol.”

Even a top official of Yoon’s high school—which several of the coup-plotters had attended—labeled them as “shameful graduates,” and pondered, “I wonder why monsters are being nurtured here.”

Fascists Pretend to Go Along—but Try to Keep Their Grip on Power

But this outpouring of popular opposition did not mean that the threat was over. Yoon and his fascist forces backed down momentarily—Yoon even “apologized” for “disappointing” people. But almost immediately the fascists—who did and do have the support of a significant minority in South Korea—were regrouping, aiming to hold onto the power they had, and position themselves for another power grab.

Formally, after ending martial law, Yoon stepped aside and allowed his prime minister to serve as “acting president.” But that “acting president” was also part of the PPP and could hand power right back to Yoon. And legally, Yoon still held the office of president, including being in command of the armed forces which had been the backbone of the coup—some enthusiastically, some “just following orders.”

Opponents of martial law legitimately felt that as long as Yoon was technically president, he would keep looking for opportunities for a second coup in one form or another. So there was a big focus on impeachment, which required two steps. First a two-thirds majority in Parliament had to impeach him; then the country’s Constitutional Court had to validate that. This would also clear the way for criminal charges against Yoon to be pursued.

A Back-and-Forth Political Battle Rages

But all this would take months, and during that time the danger was very great. 

A vote for impeachment was scheduled for Saturday, December 7. But on December 6, a human rights group reported that some military units were canceling leaves for company commanders and above, in anticipation of an “emergency recall” on Sunday. Fearing that this was preparation to impose martial law again, “tens of thousands of demonstrators holding candles and lights flooded the streets outside parliament on Friday and Saturday nights demanding Yoon's impeachment.”

Also on Friday, word spread that Yoon was going to come to the National Assembly and try to take command again; opposition lawmakers massed at the entrance, “creating a human barrier” to block Yoon’s entrance.

On Saturday though, the impeachment vote failed. There weren’t enough PPP voters to outright defeat it, so instead they boycotted the vote entirely, which resulted in there not being a quorum (the minimum number of votes on all sides needed to make a vote valid). Thus Yoon remained president, and he and his backers were more puffed up than ever. On Wednesday, December 11, police attempted to execute a search warrant of Yoon’s home for evidence of his role in the martial law plot. But other units of the police and military blocked them in an armed standoff that lasted several hours. 

On Thursday, December 12, Yoon gave a defiant speech on TV, defending his decision to impose martial law and claiming he would “fight until the end” against any effort to remove him from office. On Friday, December 13, about a thousand protesters including unionists and “liberal civic groups” marched on Yoon’s residence, in defiance of police orders, chanting “Arrest insurrection leader Yoon Suk Yeol,” blocking roads and disrupting traffic.

Yoon Arrested—but Struggle Keeps Going

On December 14, the National Assembly succeeded in impeaching Yoon as a few PPP members came over to the impeachment side. The vote was met by cheers and fireworks from thousands of protesters outside. Yoon supporters were also there though, and Yoon’s message to them was that he “will never give up” and this was just a temporary pause in his presidency.

On December 31, a District Court issued an arrest warrant for Yoon because he had defied a summons to testify about the coup. Yoon claimed the warrant was “invalid,” and refused to leave his home. On January 3, 2025, presidential guards and military troops blocked police from arresting Yoon in a six-hour standoff. 

On January 5, 3,000 police showed up at his residence and Yoon agreed to leave, becoming the first South Korean president jailed while still in office. But at 3 a.m. on January 19, hundreds of Yoon supporters stormed a court building, smashing windows, overwhelming riot police and breaking inside, and 46 were arrested. Meanwhile, Yoon refused to answer any questions from investigators.

On January 19, the impeachment trial in the Constitutional Court began. In March, Yoon was released from jail so that he could attend the trial. Small protests continued every night, and massive ones every weekend throughout this whole period. Eyes were now increasingly focused on the Constitutional Court for the final decision.

A Real Victory… to Be Continued

Finally, on April 4, the Constitutional Court unanimously confirmed Yoon’s impeachment, meaning he is no longer president in any sense. He is now awaiting trial for insurrection. 

The next day, thousands celebrated, waving flags and singing songs in the center of Seoul, but with an eye on the future. A young woman said, “I came here to celebrate, but there’s still work to be done. We still face employment discrimination, lack of mobility rights for people with disabilities, and limited rights for women and sexual minorities. I hope Korea moves toward a more equal society that addresses these issues.” An older woman warned of continuing danger: “We can’t let our guard down.” 

And less than a mile away, thousands of Yoon supporters—led by a right-wing pastor known for his inflammatory remarks—denounced the verdict as “illegal and unjust” and pledged to launch “civil disobedience campaigns.” An older man who supports Yoon said of the verdict, “I couldn't sleep a wink last night because I was so furious. From now on, we must wage a battle to win public opinion, win the snap presidential election and completely change the country.”

The struggle over the future of Korea, or even the more limited issue of preventing a fascist takeover, is indeed not yet over. But this was an important and hard-fought victory for the people, and needs to be learned from and built on.