Koh Jae-hak retains a clear recollection of witnessing police officers fatally shoot a group of young women. This occurred in April 1960, a period when students initiated demonstrations demanding the removal of the authoritarian president Syngman Rhee. Mr Koh, then employed in a government facility, observed from his window as demonstrators confronted law enforcement. The 87-year-old recounted, “There were demonstrations from various universities, and they all gathered in front… that’s when shots were fired.” Martial law was subsequently imposed days after these events. While South Korea is generally recognized as a stable democratic nation in Asia, its past was markedly different. The country experienced 16 instances of martial law within its initial four decades, predominantly under autocratic regimes. Consequently, democracy is now profoundly valued by South Koreans as a right earned through significant struggle. This historical context explains why President Yoon Suk Yeol’s recent declaration of martial law this week – the first in 45 years and occurring under a democratic government – provoked such a strong and immediate reaction. Promptly following the declaration, legislators hastily convened at the national assembly, scaling fences in an effort to revoke martial law. Concurrently, hundreds of civilians assembled to impede soldiers who had received orders to remove Members of Parliament. Certain military personnel, seemingly reluctant to execute their directives, reportedly delayed in dispersing the assembly and entering the premises. On Tuesday night, President Yoon justified his martial law declaration by stating it was essential to eliminate “pro-North anti-state” forces. Initially, this created bewilderment among some South Koreans who perceived a legitimate threat from North Korea. However, as the public continued to watch Yoon’s televised address, skepticism increased. He presented no proof of these forces operating, nor did he identify them. Given Yoon’s prior use of comparable terminology to characterize the opposition hindering his reforms, the public inferred his true intention was to suppress his political adversaries. Prior instances of martial law were similarly rationalized by leaders as vital for national stability, occasionally to eradicate what they claimed were communist infiltrators sponsored by North Korea. These periods involved restrictions on press freedom and freedom of movement. Nightly curfews and detentions were frequent occurrences. Violent confrontations occasionally erupted, most notably in 1980, when then-President Chun Doo-hwan expanded martial law to address student demonstrators advocating for democracy in the southern city of Gwangju. A severe military suppression ensued, subsequently recognized as a massacre – with an official casualty count of 193, though some specialists estimate hundreds more fatalities. South Korea ultimately adopted democracy in 1988, conducting its inaugural free and fair presidential election after escalating public demand. Nevertheless, the preceding decades had left an enduring and significant impact on the national psyche. Kelly Kim, 53, an environmental activist, stated, “Most Koreans have trauma, deep trauma, about martial law. We don’t want to repeat the same thing over and over.” Ms Kim was a young child during the last implementation of martial law and retains minimal recollection of it. Despite this, the prospect of its reintroduction causes her apprehension. She elaborated, “The government would control all the media, our normal activities. I’m working in civil society, so all our activities, like criticising the government, would not be possible under the martial law. So that’s really horrible.” The liberties granted by democracy have fostered not only a vibrant civil society but also, over more than 35 years since the initial democratic election, a flourishing of South Korea’s creative sectors. Its dramas, television programs, music, and literature have achieved global recognition. These creative industries have, in turn, focused on the nation’s history, making the past tangible for younger generations. The nation has experienced a surge in productions exploring its dictatorial history, embedding events like the Gwangju uprising into popular culture. Among these are blockbuster films featuring prominent South Korean actors, such as last year’s 12.12 The Day, a historical drama with popular actor Hwang Jung-min. This film portrays the political turmoil of 1979, when martial law was imposed after the assassination of then-President Park Chung-hee. Marina Kang, a 37-year-old web designer, remarked, “As soon as I saw the images [of Yoon’s declaration of martial law], it reminded me of that movie… it made me question, are we about to repeat that history now?” She added, “Korea’s got a wealth of visual representational works [of that era] in films and documentaries. Though we only have indirect experience of the horrific past through these works… that still makes me feel very strongly that such events should not happen again.” Younger citizens express incredulity at the potential return of martial law. Although they have never lived under it, their parents and older relatives have instilled in them a fear of such a state. Kwon Hoo, 15, stated, “At first [when I heard Yoon’s announcement], I was excited at the thought of getting a day off from school. But that joy was fleeting, and I was overwhelmed by the fear of daily life collapsing. I couldn’t sleep.” He further noted, “My father was concerned that under martial law, he wouldn’t be able to stay out late even though his work required him to… when he heard the news about the possibility of a curfew being imposed again, he started swearing while watching the news.” Not all South Koreans share the same perspective on their nation’s history. Mason Richey, an associate professor of international politics at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies in Seoul, observed, “The vast majority of Koreans appreciate democracy enormously and regret the authoritarianism of the post-war period.” However, he also noted that “the country remains very divided regarding numerous aspects of the authoritarian past, notably how justified certain repressive measures were in order to prevent communist subversion.” A considerable segment of the populace, particularly older individuals, holds the opinion that martial law was historically essential for maintaining stability and democracy. Kang Hyo-san, 83, commented, “Back then, it was a time defined by ideological warfare between democracy and communist socialism.” He made this statement while seated beside his friend Mr Koh in a cafe at Gwanghwamun, Seoul’s primary square and a central location for the city’s protest gatherings. He explained that the conflicting ideologies often resulted in confrontations, and “when the military intervened, the situation would stabilise… it was a process to restore order and properly establish free democracy.” He continued, “Given the circumstances, we couldn’t help but view it positively,” and expressed his belief that each period of martial law placed the country in a more “favourable” state. He asserted that martial law in South Korea “fundamentally differed” from that in other countries, where it “wasn’t about killing people or senseless violence.” However, the current situation is perceived differently. Both octogenarians considered Yoon’s martial law declaration to be indefensible. Mr Koh stated, “Even though we’ve experienced martial law many times throughout our lives, this time there’s no justification for its declaration.” Similarly, Ms Kim, the environmental activist, expressed relief that Yoon’s attempt failed and democracy ultimately triumphed. She questioned, “Because we fought so hard to get it, right? We don’t want to lose it again.” and “Without democracy and freedom of living, what is life?” Copyright 2024 BBC. All rights reserved. The BBC is not responsible for the content of external sites. Read about our approach to external linking.

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