The painful history of martial law in South Korea inspires resistance

Koh Jae Hak still vividly remembers when he saw the police shooting a group of young women in cold blood.

It was April 1960. Students had launched protests demanding the resignation of dictatorial President Syngman Rhee. Mr Koh was working in a government building when he looked out the window and saw protesters clashing with police.

The 87-year-old said: “There were demonstrations from different universities, and they all gathered in front of… and then shots were fired.” Days later, martial law was declared.

South Korea is widely considered a peaceful beacon of democracy in Asia, but this was not always the case. This is a country that experienced 16 instances of martial law during its first four decades, largely ruled by dictators.

That is why South Koreans deeply cherish democracy as a hard-earned right. This is why too President Yeon Suk-yeol declared martial law this week — the first to occur in 45 years and during Democratic rule — was particularly dramatic and stimulated such a profound response.

Almost immediately, lawmakers jumped out of bed and rushed to the National Assembly, climbing over fences to repeal martial law.

Hundreds of ordinary citizens gathered to repel the forces, who were ordered to expel the representatives.

Reportedly, some soldiers, who apparently did not want to carry out their orders, were slow to clear the crowd and enter the building.

When Yoon declared martial law on Tuesday evening, he said it was necessary to get rid of “pro-North, anti-state” forces. Initially, this caused confusion among some South Koreans who believed there was a real threat from the North.

But as they continued to watch Yoon's televised announcement, many became skeptical. He provided no evidence that such forces were at work, nor did he explain who they were. Since Yoon had previously used similar language to describe the opposition that was blocking his reforms, the public concluded that he was actually trying to crush his political opponents.

Leaders have also justified previous periods of martial law as necessary to stabilize the country and, at times, eliminate what they claimed were communist saboteurs planted by North Korea.

They restricted freedom of the press and freedom of movement. Night curfews and arrests were common.

Sometimes violent clashes occurred and were difficult to erase in 1980, when then-President Chun Doo-hwan extended martial law to deal with student protesters demanding democracy in the southern city of Gwangju. A brutal military campaign was launched, and has since been labeled a massacre – while the official death toll is 193, some experts believe hundreds more died.

South Korea eventually transitioned to democracy in 1988, when the government held its first free and fair presidential elections after mounting popular pressure. But the previous decades had permanently and profoundly shaped the nation's consciousness.

“Most Koreans are in shock, deep trauma, over martial law,” said Kelly Kim, 53, an environmental activist. “We don't want to repeat the same thing over and over again.”

Ms. Kim was a young child when martial law was last implemented, and has little memory of it. However, she shudders at the thought of her return.

“The government will control all the media, and our normal activities. I work in civil society, so all our activities, such as criticizing the government, will not be possible under martial law. So this is really terrible.”

The freedoms offered by democracy have not only led to a thriving civil society.

In the more than 35 years since that first democratic election, South Korea's creative industries have flourished, with its dramas, television shows, music and literature becoming world-famous. These creative industries have turned their own lenses on the country's past, bringing history to life for those too young to remember.

The country has seen a proliferation of shows about its dictatorial past, leading to incidents such as the Gwangju Uprising being immortalized in popular culture.

Some of them were successful films featuring South Korea's biggest stars, such as last year's 12.12 The Day, a historical drama starring popular actor Hwang Joong-min. The film depicts the political chaos that occurred in 1979 when martial law was declared after the assassination of President Park Chung-hee.

“As soon as I saw the pictures (of Yoon declaring martial law), it reminded me of that movie… It made me wonder, are we about to repeat this history now?” Marina Kang, a 37-year-old web designer, said:

“Korea has had a wealth of visual representations of (the era) in films and documentaries. Although we only have an indirect experience of the horrific past through these works…it still makes me feel strongly that such events… “It should not happen again.”

There is a feeling of disbelief among young citizens that they can return. Although they had never known life under martial law, they had been taught by their parents and older relatives to fear it.

“At first (when I heard Yoon’s announcement), I was excited about the idea of ​​having a day off from school. But that joy was fleeting, and I was overwhelmed by the fear that daily life would collapse. I couldn’t sleep.” said 15-year-old Kwon Hoo.

“My father was worried that under martial law, he would not be able to stay out late even though his work required him to… When he heard the news that the curfew might be imposed again, he started cursing while watching the news.”

Not all South Koreans feel this way about their past.

“The vast majority of Koreans highly value democracy and deplore authoritarianism in the post-war era,” said Mason Ritchie, an assistant professor of international politics at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies in Seoul.

But he added, “The country remains deeply divided regarding many aspects of its authoritarian past, in particular the extent to which some repressive measures were justified in order to prevent communist subversion.”

There is a view among a large segment of the population, especially among the elderly, that martial law was necessary in the past to achieve stability and democracy.

“At that time, it was a period of ideological war between democracy and communist socialism,” said Kang Hyo-san, 83. He was sitting next to his friend Mr Koh at a café in Gwanghwamun, Seoul's main square and the focal point of the Communist Party. Protest marches in the city.

Competing ideologies would lead to clashes and “when the army intervened, the situation stabilized… It was an operation to restore order and establish a properly free democracy.

“Given the circumstances, we can only look at the matter positively,” he said, adding that he felt that each period of martial law left the country in a “better” situation. He stressed that martial law in South Korea is “radically different” from other countries, as it is “not about killing people or senseless violence.”

But this time it's different. Both octogenarians felt that Yuen's declaration of martial law was unacceptable. “Although we have witnessed martial law many times throughout our lives, this time there is no justification for declaring it,” Koh said.

Like them, Ms. Kim, an environmental activist, was glad that Yoon did not succeed and that democracy prevailed in the end. “Because we fought so hard to get it, didn't we? We don't want to lose it again.”

“Without democracy and the freedom to live, what is life?”