By Mirai Abe | January 27, 2025
South Korea's National Assembly Proceeding Hall.
Photo Credit: Pixabay
It has been over a month since South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol abruptly declared martial law on Dec. 3, 2024. Yoon claimed that martial law would protect the country from pro-North Korean forces - while there is no evidence of an alliance with North Korea on the opposition party’s behalf - and demanded a ban on all political activities and uncensored publications.
“I never imagined martial law would be declared in my lifetime,” a Woosong University student in Daejong recalled, “I was so shocked that I couldn't believe it at the time.”
Yoon dispatched military forces to besiege the National Assembly, and the soldiers even pointed their guns at citizens.
“I learned that as a soldier, I should minimize contact with civilians, and that threatening or attacking civilians is absolutely unacceptable,” the Woosong University student said. It is easy to guess that Mr. Yoon was desperate to install a dictatorship from his abuse of military power.
However, fortunately, he was finally detained on Jan. 15 and became the first president to be arrested while being in office after weeks of investigation by the police, prosecutors, and the Corruption Investigation Office for High-Ranking Officials, South Korea’s anti-corruption agency.
Mr. Yoon’s impeachment and detention were enabled by the persevering protests of South Korean citizens. As soon as Yoon announced the declaration of martial law at 10:29 p.m., people in Seoul flocked to the National Assembly to demand its nullification. The demonstration kept growing, and tens of thousands of people - an estimated 200,000 - gathered in front of the National Assembly when the impeachment vote took place on Dec. 14, according to Seoul police. In weather as cold as Albany’s, they enthusiastically chanted, “Impeach Yoon Suk Yeol! Arrest Yoon Suk Yeol!"
People brought flags that represent their unions or associations (many with colorful group names such as, “National Overweight Cat Association”), K-pop lightsticks, and self-made banners from home. The protesters chanted the march with pop songs playing boisterously in the back. And people in Seoul supported the demonstrations in many ways by offering free food, beverages, service, and taxi rides to protesters.
Regardless of the reason they were protesting for, the landscape of the citizens uniting for democracy in South Korea was, I must say, beautiful. The South Koreans gave us - the people all over the world - hope that democracy is still alive.
But why did South Koreans show such immediate and robust resistance against the enforcement of martial law?
The answer: trauma. South Koreans remembered what would happen if martial law was issued. They knew that, in the past, the soldiers actually shot the civilians. When they first heard the announcement of martial law, many recalled the Gwangju Uprising in 1980.
The Gwangju Uprising, also known as May 18, is recognized as the turning point to reform South Korea from dictatorship to democracy. In December 1979, Army General Chun Doo-hwan attempted a military coup and took control. Upon declaring martial law, he quelled public protests, arrested opposition leaders, and shut down the universities and the National Parliament.
In 1980, the Gwangju Uprising occurred as the response by hundreds of students in Gwangju to claim their rights to education and democracy. As the military crushed their protest, the citizens of Gwangju started to join them, often accompanied with weapons. The more citizens who participated in the uprising, the more gunshots were fired by the military force. The government estimates the number of deaths during the 10 days of demonstration is 200. However, scholars and local civic groups argue that the number can be as high as 2,000, many of whom were civilians.
So this is the overview of the Gwangju Uprising that you will see in many books. However, perhaps, the biggest educator of the event is the popular culture because what films or novels do when recreating historical events is visualization and individualization. For example, in the film A Taxi Driver, you witness the formidable presence of martial law in Gwangju, the military’s blatant and ruthless shooting at civilians, grief because of the death and destruction. You see the faces of the citizens, hear their voices, and witness the moment of their deaths. This film allows you to imagine the experiences and emotions of the people who were actually there.
Human Acts by Nobel Prize-winning author Han Kang is another excellent piece that humanizes this unimaginably horrific event. There is nothing but pain in this novel. Every time you flip a page, you are bombarded with more terror. Kang explores one question through thousands of bloody sacrifices and souls yearning to live: What is humanity? In each chapter, you visit a Gwangju citizen’s lingering trauma and arduous search for the truth as a survivor. In contrast to A Taxi Driver which offers the audience an outsider’s perspective through the eyes of a taxi driver from Seoul and a journalist from Germany, Human Acts positions you as a citizen of Gwangju. In other words, you don’t see the people of Gwangju as “them.” While you are reading Human Acts, you are one of “us.”
South Koreans proved that they will not forget the history through their resistance against now-arrested-President Yoon’s attempt to declare martial law. The university student in South Korea said that there is a famous saying: “A nation that forgets its history has no future.” I think the “nation” applies to today’s America because of Trump's numerous executive orders announced last week, which attempt to bring America back to a period of extreme racism and colonialism.
Americans have a lot to learn from people in South Korea to survive the next four years. You can start by watching A Taxi Driver or reading Human Acts. They will tell you that if you don’t ignore the shameful part of history, you won’t let it happen again.
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