Veteran South Korean lawmakers and citizens reflect on the chilling return of martial law, drawing parallels to the 1980 Gwangju uprising that saw violent government crackdowns. As the National Assembly votes against the law, the haunting memories of oppression resurface amidst current tensions.
Echoes of the Past: South Koreans Confront Martial Law Again

Echoes of the Past: South Koreans Confront Martial Law Again
Resurgent fears arise as President Yoon Suk Yeol imposes martial law, prompting memories of Gwangju's 1980 massacre among lawmakers and citizens.
Article text:
In the early hours of December 4, 2024, the streets of Seoul echoed with anxious memories for South Koreans as martial law was imposed once more under President Yoon Suk Yeol. Lawmaker Chung Chin-ook, now 60, vividly recalled the chaos of 1980, when he was just a teenager witnessing the horrific crackdown during the Gwangju uprising.
Late Tuesday night, desperate to act, Chung and his fellow lawmakers scaled the National Assembly's fence, evading police barricades as they rushed to vote against the unprecedented imposition of martial law. “I immediately thought of 1980, and the fear and desperation we felt,” he stated, referring to the violent military response to protestors demanding democracy. A united voice of 190 assembly members swiftly nullified Yoon's decree.
Inside the chamber, the atmosphere was tense, with live broadcasts showing special forces deploying through helicopters and storming the assembly. Chung and colleagues fortified the entrance, racing against time to proceed with their vote. He could not help but recall the menacing military uniforms resembling those who had assaulted him and his siblings, uttering orders to retreat.
Four decades ago, sentiments of rage and fear were driving forces for the young Chung—emotions which surged within him once more. “Back then, I was too young to fight,” he lamented, determined to stand firm for this generation.
Another voice from that tumultuous past echoed in the current moment—68-year-old Lee Jae-eui, a former college student imprisoned during previous martial law. Woken by a flurry of urgent messages, Lee found himself fixated on live television as soldiers breached the National Assembly. “It was total déjà-vu,” he commented, expressing disbelief at the resurgence of oppression after years of democratization.
South Koreans who lived through the struggles for democracy are acutely aware of the repercussions that martial law entails. “The people know this is not lawful,” Lee asserted, emphasizing the collective commitment to watching over the hard-won freedoms of their nation.
In the early hours of December 4, 2024, the streets of Seoul echoed with anxious memories for South Koreans as martial law was imposed once more under President Yoon Suk Yeol. Lawmaker Chung Chin-ook, now 60, vividly recalled the chaos of 1980, when he was just a teenager witnessing the horrific crackdown during the Gwangju uprising.
Late Tuesday night, desperate to act, Chung and his fellow lawmakers scaled the National Assembly's fence, evading police barricades as they rushed to vote against the unprecedented imposition of martial law. “I immediately thought of 1980, and the fear and desperation we felt,” he stated, referring to the violent military response to protestors demanding democracy. A united voice of 190 assembly members swiftly nullified Yoon's decree.
Inside the chamber, the atmosphere was tense, with live broadcasts showing special forces deploying through helicopters and storming the assembly. Chung and colleagues fortified the entrance, racing against time to proceed with their vote. He could not help but recall the menacing military uniforms resembling those who had assaulted him and his siblings, uttering orders to retreat.
Four decades ago, sentiments of rage and fear were driving forces for the young Chung—emotions which surged within him once more. “Back then, I was too young to fight,” he lamented, determined to stand firm for this generation.
Another voice from that tumultuous past echoed in the current moment—68-year-old Lee Jae-eui, a former college student imprisoned during previous martial law. Woken by a flurry of urgent messages, Lee found himself fixated on live television as soldiers breached the National Assembly. “It was total déjà-vu,” he commented, expressing disbelief at the resurgence of oppression after years of democratization.
South Koreans who lived through the struggles for democracy are acutely aware of the repercussions that martial law entails. “The people know this is not lawful,” Lee asserted, emphasizing the collective commitment to watching over the hard-won freedoms of their nation.