
South Korea’s democracy has faced an extraordinary test. President Yoon Suk Yeol has been impeached by the National Assembly following his abrupt and short-lived declaration of martial law -- an act that was withdrawn within hours. The justifications for this extreme measure were dubious at best, failing to meet constitutional conditions and drawing accusations of treasonous overreach. However, this event, though shocking, did not occur in isolation. It was the culmination of a series of missteps, ethical lapses and poor governance that eroded public trust in both the president and his administration.
The impeachment was underpinned by a string of scandals: allegations of the first lady’s impropriety and inappropriate meddling in state affairs, the president’s practice of appointing incompetent and ideologically extreme officials, and his political weaponization of disdain toward the former Moon Jae-in administration. This combination of ineptitude and political cunning became intolerable to the broader public.
And then, there is the crumbling of Seoul National University’s prestige -- a bitter irony often joked about in public discourse.
Once a beacon of excellence, the institution now faces the sobering music: empowering incompetent, greedy and unempathetic elites with a misguided sense of prestige -- those whom I have no reservation calling "elite thugs" -- individuals capable of holding power but utterly devoid of moral leadership. Another bitter lesson emerges: bad prosecutors -- like bad cops -- blinded by politics and a myopic worldview, where everyone but themselves is a potential criminal, tarnish the reputation of the entire institution. This mindset is fundamentally incompatible with the qualities demanded of elected officials. Politics requires empathy, service and a demonstrated capacity for governance -- skills forged through grassroots activism, canvassing in underserved communities and serving in city councils or parliamentary offices. Korea must, and will, move toward a political system where leaders rise through legitimate, hard-earned experience and credibility, not through backdoor appointments and collusion with power-hungry kingmakers.
In this context, one cannot help but notice the president’s lack of citizenship -- a glaring shortfall that extends to his wife and coterie. This is not just about individual morality or work ethic but something far more fundamental: an understanding of democracy’s basic principles, such as the separation of powers. Equally absent is any semblance of what we teach to our K-12 students as digital citizenship: digital safety, a sense of community and responsibility. If judged on digital literacy, the president and his cronies would undoubtedly receive failing marks.
The evidence speaks for itself: immersed in YouTube’s fringe right-wing and conspiracy-laden echo chambers, they succumbed to disinformation and delusions of election fraud. Their fixations and biases eroded reason, leaving them incapable of distinguishing fact from propaganda. They failed to apply critical thinking skills, including parallel reading and fact-checking, to discern truth from fake news. Worse still, accusations persist that they mobilized troll armies to amplify political division, isolate political rivals and sow hatred.
Meanwhile, the explanations for this catastrophic literacy failure are as diverse as they are unsettling. Some look to the president’s upbringing for clues, others to his reported binge drinking and consequential cognitive impairment. There are whispers that shamans and his wife wield undue psychological control over him, while others point to his purported sociopathic tendencies. Whatever the root cause, however, the damage is undeniable.
In the aftermath, as with a typhoon or wildfire, ruins remain. Holding the guilty accountable is critical -- not only to prevent repeat mistakes but to learn lasting lessons. And in this reckoning, we must acknowledge the victims: ultimately, it’s all of us.
But amid this devastation, there are glimmers of hope. The impeachment, achieved through peaceful and lawful means, reflects a mature democratic consciousness. The National Assembly, for once, fulfilled its duty by annulling the martial law declaration, with a few principled ruling party lawmakers, most notably Rep. Kim Jae-sub, taking part. Rank-and-file soldiers, too, demonstrated courage by refusing to comply with unconstitutional orders. Most importantly, the nation bore witness to a clear distinction: between those who uphold democratic values and those who exploit elected power for personal gain.
The past 2 1/2 years have been a relentless fever for South Korea, one that dulled our collective consciousness. Yet this ordeal can fortify our immunity against future assaults on democracy. If there is one lesson far greater than my daily teaching of mathematics, education and algorithm coding -- or even my occasional lectures on AI -- it is this: Mature and courageous civic consciousness remains humanity’s most irreplaceable asset. In an age where AI grows more sophisticated and seems to threaten our very sense of agency and purpose, the resilience of democratic citizenship shall remain a timeless and irreplaceable human experience, passed down through generations.
Let all of us, Koreans or not, emerge from this crisis not weakened but emboldened, armed with the wisdom to demand statesmanship grounded in experience, integrity and respect for the people. Our democracy, though tested, has proven its capacity to endure and rebuild -- and so, too, must we.
Lim Woong
Lim Woong is a professor at the Graduate School of Education at Yonsei University in Seoul. The views expressed here are the writer’s own. -- Ed.