The recent arrest of former South Korean Minister of Defense Kim Yong-hyun – the first person taken into custody over President Yoon Suk-yeol’s declaration of martial law, which Kim allegedly proposed – has brought into sharp focus the unsettling intersection of political power, factionalism, and the enduring influence of military elite in South Korea’s domestic politics. Kim’s arrest has amplified concerns about the role of the military in governance. More broadly, Yoon’s shocking declaration of martial law may also trigger wider debate about the vulnerability of democratic processes.
Kim, a seasoned figure in South Korea’s military establishment, rose through the ranks from platoon leader in the 21st Infantry Division of South Korean Army to the head of the Presidential Security Bureau and then to minister of defense under Yoon. His career trajectory reflects not only his personal ambition but also the growing prominence of military figures within the country’s political elite. Kim’s approach, shaped by his military background, was decisively hardline – his suggestion of martial law to resolve escalating political tensions may speak to the enduring influence of the military in South Korea’s domestic politics. This incident is a stark reminder of the risks that such entrenched military power may pose to the domestic political and social order in South Korea.
Kim’s personal history contains other reasons for concern. A senior to Yoon during their high school years at Chung-Yam High School, Kim was the leader of the school’s “Student National Defense League,” known for its militant nationalism. Claims that Kim may have been a fan of Adolf Hitler’s “Mein Kampf” only deepen concerns about his political inclinations. These revelations add to the suspicion that Kim, having risen to such a powerful position within both the military and the government, may have been driven by darker instincts than a sense of duty to national security.
Kim’s suggestion of martial law came at a time when South Korea’s political environment was increasingly polarized. With the opposition camp holding majority in the National Assembly, it was able to question the administration’s policies and present a direct challenge to Yoon’s leadership. The ruling camp found itself in a precarious position, especially when Yoon’s approval rate dropped to 17 percent by early November as a Gallup poll showed. Repeated calls for special investigations into Yoon’s wife and close associates further added to the president’s frustrations.
In this context, Kim’s proposal to impose martial law – not only to quell dissent but also to label some political opponents as “pro-North Korean forces” – highlighted the dangerous potential for military elites to exert influence over political outcomes, bypassing the democratic process in the name of national security.
However, the fallout from Kim’s actions was immediate and dramatic. Some soldiers on the scene were not very cooperative with the martial law order, and the progressive camp quickly took resolute actions. Lawmakers gathered at the National Assembly in the middle of the night to urgently vote to overturn the martial law declaration – a development Yoon reportedly sought to preempt by ordering the arrest of key political figures.
Critics were quick to accuse Kim of making impulsive, undemocratic decisions, driven by an unchecked military mentality rather than consultation or transparency. Although Kim defended his actions as necessary for national security, many South Koreans see them as an abuse of power by a military elite that has long wielded disproportionate influence over the country’s political system. His suggestion to deploy martial law was not just a breach of democratic norms – it may be viewed as a reminder of the military’s hidden but persistent influence in South Korean political affairs.
Since the late 1980s and early 1990s, South Korean society has been very cautious about military involvement in politics, deeply scarred by the country’s past under military dictatorship. Despite decades of efforts to civilianize the military and reform its leadership structure, the military elite remain a powerful force in South Korean politics. Most South Korean defense ministers have had very long and deep ties to the military, with only a few exceptions in 1951 and 1960-1961.
By contrast, since the end of World War II, the U.S. secretary of defense has generally been a civilian or a person with very limited military experience, ensuring civilian oversight of the military as per the 1947 National Security Act. There are only three exceptions among the 28 defense secretaries to have held the office since the position was established in 1947 (in place of the former secretary of war).
The persistent military influence in South Korea, despite reforms, may stir unease among those who lived through the era of authoritarian rule, when the military effectively controlled the whole government and nation. Viewed in that context, the declaration of martial law this month underscores the enduring potential of South Korea’s military elite to disrupt domestic governance.
That said, Yoon cannot escape responsibility for these events. Many viewed his approval of Kim’s martial law proposal not as a defensive measure but as a deeply anti-democratic move. The progressive opposition, in particular, decried it as a blatant attempt to suppress dissent and reintroduce authoritarian tactics reminiscent of South Korea’s past military regimes. For them, this incident may have evoked uncomfortable parallels to the country’s authoritarian period when military leaders dictated the political landscape with little regard for democratic processes. In a nation that has fought hard to distance itself from military rule, the specter of such measures by the president and his top adviser under the guise of national security is terrifying.
Kim’s proposal to impose martial law – and Yoon’s acceptance – not only revealed the military’s lingering power but also exposed the fragility of South Korea’s democratic institutions. Back in 2021, Kyung-Pil Kim of Korea University noted that “The military is likely to pledge its allegiance to the regime instead of citizens because the former has control over personnel affairs, which has frequently led to unofficial private groups of military officers and their political interference.”
In the end, this event highlights serious concerns about leadership, accountability, and the separation of military and civilian authority in South Korea. Kim’s military-driven approach, combined with his disregard for the civilian implications of his actions, likely contributed to the political crisis that followed. Yoon surely takes a major responsibility, and his approval of the measure further raises questions about the role of military elite in shaping key decisions.
Many South Koreans may claim that democracy has been achieved at a painful price. This time, the National Assembly – bolstered by spontaneous mass protests – successfully overturned martial law after just six hours. However, we should not be complacent about the risks this episode revealed. South Korea’s political landscape, especially its top infrastructure, remains fragile, as it is caught between factionalism, personal ambition, and the long shadow of military influence. As this recent turmoil illustrates, when these elements collide, the consequences can be both tragic and farcical. Some even joked after the events of the past few weeks that the plot changes in South Korea’s domestic politics are faster than those in Korean dramas.
The nation is left to confront an uncomfortable question: who is truly leading the country, and can South Korea’s democracy endure the weight of a political system where political factionalism and military elites’ influence remain so entrenched?