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Korea’s constitutional crisis drags on, with no end in sight

Published: 10 Apr. 2025, 00:02

Chung Hyo-shik

The author is the social news editor at the JoongAng Ilbo.

By now, the country was supposed to be turning a page.

After 111 days of political paralysis and constitutional chaos, Korea seemed poised to restore a sense of normalcy. The Constitutional Court’s decision on April 4 to remove Yoon Suk Yeol from the presidency for abusing emergency powers was meant to serve as a reset — a moment when institutional resilience could reassert itself, and the nation could begin to breathe again.

Instead, the crisis has entered yet another round. The announcement of a June 3 snap presidential election, rather than closing the book, has only intensified the sense of political warfare.

Acting President and Prime Minister Han Duck-soo enters a Cabinet meeting at the Seoul Government Complex in Jongno District, central Seoul, on April 8. [YONHAP]

The latest flashpoint is, once again, the appointment of Constitutional Court justices — an issue that has become emblematic of the broader dysfunction consuming Korean politics. What began as a conflict over a single nomination has turned into a rolling dispute over constitutional powers, party loyalty and institutional trust.

At the center is acting President Han Duck-soo, who returned to office after the court rejected a separate attempt to impeach him in late March. Han, seeking to fill two Constitutional Court vacancies ahead of the justices’ April 18 retirement, nominated Lee Wan-kyu, head of the Ministry of Government Legislation, and Ham Sang-hoon, a senior judge. Both seats fall under the president’s authority to appoint.

This move immediately drew condemnation from the Democratic Party. Party leader Lee Jae-myung accused Han of confusing his role as acting president with the full authority of an elected leader. The following day, the Democratic Party unilaterally pushed through a bill in the Legislation and Judiciary Committee that would bar acting presidents from appointing court justices in the president’s stead. It also passed an amendment allowing current justices to remain on the bench until successors are formally confirmed — a move widely interpreted as an attempt to block Han’s nominations until after the June election.

Lee Wan-kyu, head of the Ministry of Government Legislation. [NEWS1]

Taken together, these actions signal a deeper shift: The judicial crisis is being weaponized for electoral gain.

The Democratic Party, having initiated impeachment proceedings for Finance Minister and Deputy Prime Minister Choi Sang-mok last month, is now preparing a televised inquiry, despite the fact that one of the original charges — the refusal to appoint Ma Eun-hyuk as justice — was resolved when Han himself approved the nomination. The impeachment campaign continues regardless, now operating on political momentum rather than constitutional principle.

Beneath the procedural arguments lies a more troubling reality. The issue is not merely whether Han has the authority to nominate justices — on that point, the Constitutional Court has been clear. In two separate rulings this year, the court affirmed that the appointment of justices is both a power and a duty of the presidency, and that acting presidents are bound by the same responsibility to keep the court operational and independent.

The real concern lies with who is being nominated.

Lee Wan-kyu is no ordinary bureaucrat. He is a longtime confidant of former President Yoon Suk Yeol — his law school classmate, a fellow graduate of the Judicial Research & Training Institute and, notably, one of four close aides present at a secretive meeting in December, on the very day martial law was lifted. He is also under active investigation by both the Corruption Investigation Office for High-ranking Officials and the police.

The optics of appointing someone so closely linked to the ousted president — and under criminal investigation, no less — should raise red flags for anyone who believes in the independence of the judiciary. That such a nomination came from Han, a veteran civil servant with more than five decades of experience and a reputation for institutional caution, only deepens the mystery.

Was this loyalty to an old political ally? A misreading of public sentiment? Or a deliberate move to provoke?

Whatever the reason, an already combustible political environment is now ablaze. The very court that helped check presidential overreach now finds itself at the center of a new power struggle, one that threatens to undermine its legitimacy just weeks before a crucial election.

There is still time to avert a deeper rupture. Han could withdraw Lee’s nomination and select a more neutral candidate. Lee himself, in the interest of public trust, could voluntarily step aside. Either would be a step toward restoring confidence in the process and ensuring that the court remains a check on power — not a casualty of it.

But until then, Korea’s constitutional crisis grinds on. The night may have passed, but the darkness lingers.

Translated from the JoongAng Ilbo using generative AI and edited by Korea JoongAng Daily staff.