By Joke Kujenya
SOUTH KOREA’s Constitutional Court has permanently removed President Yoon Suk-yeol from office after ruling he violated the constitution by declaring martial law, deploying armed troops against parliament, and attempting to detain rival lawmakers.
The unanimous ruling, delivered on Friday morning by acting chief justice Moon Hyung-bae, marks an extraordinary chapter in the country’s democratic journey and thrusts the nation into a fresh election within 60 days.
Yoon, 64, becomes only the second president in South Korean history to be formally expelled by the court, following the ousting of Park Geun-hye in 2017.
His downfall stems from a dramatic power grab in December, when soldiers and police forces were mobilised under a decree Yoon defended as a preemptive measure against alleged infiltration by “anti-state” elements.
“The defendant mobilised military and police forces to dismantle the authority of constitutional institutions and infringed upon the fundamental rights of the people,” Moon told the court.
“In doing so, he abandoned his constitutional duty and gravely betrayed the trust of the Korean people.”
He added that the scope and consequences of Yoon’s martial law order could not be tolerated under the constitution: “The benefit of restoring constitutional order through removal from office outweighs the national cost.”
Yoon’s unprecedented move to militarise the capital on 3 December was reversed just six hours later, following resistance from the public, political leaders, and within the ranks of the military.
But the backlash had already set in motion his impeachment by the National Assembly on 14 December.
The Constitutional Court’s verdict, effective immediately, strips Yoon of all presidential privileges, including pension rights, a security detail, and the symbolic honour of burial in the national cemetery.
Moments after the ruling, Yoon issued a brief statement of concession: “Dear citizens, it has been a great honour to be able to work for the Republic of Korea. I am deeply grateful to all of you who have supported and cheered for me, despite my many shortcomings.”
Courtroom Cheers and Clashes Outside
The court’s decision was met with cheers and emotional scenes from anti-Yoon protesters gathered outside, many of whom had kept vigil overnight in anticipation. “We cried tears and shouted that we, the citizens, had won,” said Kim Min-ji, a 25-year-old demonstrator.
Inside the courtroom, opposition lawmakers applauded. Supporters of Yoon, largely older and conservative, reacted with subdued fury.
Police forces surrounded the courthouse, raising the national security alert to its highest level amid sporadic threats shouted by angry pro-Yoon loyalists.
Several of the president’s most fervent supporters have taken their protests to extremes.
Two self-immolations have been reported since the impeachment process began.
Authorities confirmed that additional protection had been assigned to Constitutional Court judges after threats were made.
Yoon’s removal also jolted financial markets.
The Korean won surged against the US dollar, and the benchmark KOSPI index rose by 0.35 percent following the announcement.
Yoon’s political reckoning may only be beginning.
He now faces a separate criminal trial on charges of insurrection.
While in office, he had limited immunity—his dismissal opens the door for further legal action, including possible charges of abuse of power.
The former president must also vacate the presidential residence and has been cut off from official aides and transportation services.
Acting president Han Duck-soo will serve until a new president is elected.
The National Election Commission is expected to set the poll date in the coming days.
National Assembly Speaker Woo Won-shik praised the court’s judgment as a reaffirmation of democratic principles.
“We have made clear the principle that any power that commits unconstitutional or illegal acts must be held accountable,” he said.
Rise and Ruin: The Prosecutor-Turned-President
Yoon’s rise had once symbolised integrity and resistance to political interference. As a career prosecutor, he made headlines for defying orders and investigating both conservative and liberal politicians—including jailing Park Geun-hye.
His mantra, “I do not owe my loyalty to anyone,” won him bipartisan admiration.
But his transformation from justice-seeker to power-broker was rapid and divisive.
Selected as the conservative People Power Party’s candidate despite no political experience, he won the presidency by the slimmest margin in South Korea’s democratic history—just 0.7%.
His presidency, however, quickly became defined by confrontation. Former aides described him as hot-tempered and dismissive of dissent.
He increasingly surrounded himself with loyalists and alienated moderate supporters.
His shift towards extreme right-wing nationalism, coupled with inflammatory rhetoric about “anti-state forces,” drew international concern and domestic alarm.
Yoon’s refusal to work with the opposition, resistance to criticism, and increasingly authoritarian style proved fatal.
One political adviser admitted the administration “kept having to clear up his mess,” while former allies said he listened more to his drinking companions than to seasoned strategists.
“He didn’t care enough what people thought of him,” one long-time friend said. “He thought he was doing the right thing. But he forgot that in a democracy, the people decide what’s right.”
South Korea’s democratic resilience has been sorely tested—but ultimately affirmed. As memories of past military dictatorships still linger, the nation has again demonstrated that its institutions are capable of holding even the highest office to account.
Portraits of Yoon were swiftly removed from military installations following the ruling. Under defence ministry protocol, the president’s image must be displayed in all military offices—a symbol now erased.
Citizens say that for their country still recovering from a string of crises—including natural disasters, aviation tragedy, and trade conflicts—the verdict signals a turning point; adding that the road to political stability remains uncertain, but Friday’s decision proved a fundamental truth of Korean democracy: no one is above the law.
