Korean democracy upgrade: Goodbye public sentiment, hello law

By Michael Breen

Ever since President Yoon Suk Yeol’s short-lived imposition of martial law in early December, we have experienced one surprise after another.

Besides martial law itself and its rapid retraction after the ruling party joined the opposition groups in the Assembly to vote it down, we were surprised to see the ruling party then unite to prevent the actual impeachment of the president, only to shift its stance a week later. Then, as if this were not victory enough, the opposition party impeached the then-acting president, Han Duck-soo, for having the audacity to veto bills that it had passed.

While this was going on, agencies too impatient to wait for the Constitutional Court trial of the president, started various criminal investigations of him and his men. One of them, the Corruption Investigation Office for High-ranking Officials, an anti-corruption body, obtained a court-issued warrant and sent officials to detain him. They were blocked from doing so by the Presidential Security Service.

As this real-life K-drama has been playing out, something else has been happening that is perhaps the biggest surprise of all. That is, the failure of the outrage against the president to coalesce into a unified force of “public sentiment.” As counterintuitive as it may seem for me to claim this, it makes me think this whole experience is generating an upgrade of Korea’s democracy.

Called “minshim” in Korean, public sentiment as referred to in this country is more than simple majority opinion. It is a passionate gut-level conviction, shared by all, a visceral force that gains expression through online commentary, street protest and media, and, once it does so, takes on the role as supreme driver of democratic decision-making.

Public opinion is, of course, important in all democracies, but minshim has a particular role in Korea’s. Democracy, properly understood, is about the exercise of the will of the majority while at the same time the rights of the minority, down to the individual, are protected. This process is managed by institutions that are bound by a fair and rational system of law.

In Korea, though, the overriding belief is that democracy is about the “will of the people” as opposed to the will of the political leadership. That is because democracy was delivered, in 1987, by massive nationwide popular protests that put the dictator in his place. But when that battle was over, we kept fighting it, like generals strategizing and deploying our troops for the last war. Ever since, presidents have been considered “imperial” and treated with suspicion and disdain by a system that fears they will be tempted to excess. Of eight democratically elected presidents, all but one has been impeached, jailed, or investigated during or after his or her term. In this era of victimhood, someone should spare a thought for these poor folk.

Ironically, with its focus on the presidency, we have not thought to examine this will of ours, this “will of the people.” Kim Dae-jung once told me he thought the voice of the people was the will of God. In this vein, minshim has remained sacred. That it could be tyrannical is considered blasphemy. When minshim roars, institutions cringe and politicians and bureaucrats bend the law to do its will.

With crowds of several hundred thousand protesting against Yoon in December, minshim appeared ready to rear its fearful head once again, all but ensuring his fate and that of his wife (who his opponents have been targeting from Day One for apparent power abuse). The few die-hards protesting in support of the president would be dismissed as “far-right” crazies and ignored by the media.

However, something unusual has happened. Protests by both sides have actually been covered. You can see headlines in this newspaper like “pro- and anti-Yoon rallies held this weekend.”

But it’s even more interesting. The anti-Yoon rallies have been qualified as “KCTU-organized.” This does more than suggest they are not spontaneous examples of minshim in action. The Korean Confederation of Trade Unions, or the KCTU, is the umbrella union organization and has been operating street protests demanding impeachment for well over two years. While its previous impeachment demands had little justification, Yoon’s martial law declaration now gives them a good case.

However, the KCTU’s own credibility has been undermined by the fact that, in November, three of its top officers were sentenced for taking orders from North Korea. A fourth was acquitted.

It’s hard to know what to make of this. To be fair, we shouldn’t assume the KCTU is itself traitorous. But it does seem that its leadership lacks judgment. Even if their case against Yoon has merit and is in the best national interest, it certainly doesn’t amuse South Koreans to know that those making it have been dealing clandestinely with an enemy state.

The effect of all of this is that the minshim beast has been caged. With it gone, we now see a political landscape more clearly as one where a majority is against Yoon and a minority supports him. That is what we expect of a democracy. Now, without the fetid breath of the beast on their necks, the institutions of Korea’s democracy may do their work. How? By interpreting and applying the law.

This we may say, almost 40 years after democracy arrived in this country, is a real upgrade, regardless of whether Yoon stays or goes, is jailed or remains free. For democracy lies not in the outcome but the process.

Michael Breen (mike.breen@insightcomms.com) is the author of "The New Koreans."