Has life actually gotten any better?

With a president who promised an era of happiness but shows little effort to deliver it and an opposition mired in an anachronistic past, even thinking about words like coexistence, reconciliation, hope and happiness begins to feel like a luxury.

Kang Won-taek

The author is a professor of political science and international relations at Seoul National University.

“Fellow citizens, are you happy? Has your everyday life gotten any better?”

Those words, spoken during a televised debate in the 2002 presidential election by Kwon Young-gil, then the Democratic Labor Party’s candidate, suddenly came back into mind. Perhaps it is because the year’s end invites reflection. More than that, however, the phrase resurfaced because the past year has been unusually difficult for Korean society.

President Lee Jae Myung delivers his inaugural address as the 21st president at the National Assembly in Yeouido, western Seoul, on June 4. [NEWS1]

Since the shocking declaration of martial law on Dec. 3 last year, the country has endured months of political instability, deep social division and pervasive uncertainty about the future. Fortunately, the decree was lifted quickly without a loss of life. The Constitutional Court upheld impeachment, former President Yoon Suk Yeol was removed from office and a snap presidential election led to a transfer of power. After nearly half a year of turmoil, the restoration of constitutional order naturally raised high public expectations that a new president would heal instability and division.

President Lee Jae Myung echoed those hopes in his inauguration address. He spoke of building bridges of coexistence, reconciliation and solidarity over hatred and confrontation, opening an era of happiness filled with dreams and hope.

Six months have now passed and the year is drawing to a close. It is time to ask what has actually changed. The short answer is that despite the change in administration, daily reality feels much the same. Politics have not regained balance simply because the opposition became the ruling party. Extreme confrontation between the ruling and opposition camps remains intact. President Lee hasn't demonstrated a markedly different leadership style centered on inclusion and integration. The promised bridges of coexistence and reconciliation have yet to appear. Korea remains trapped in a politics of hostility and confrontation. Although he pledged to end divisive politics, President Lee now stands at its very center, with little difference from his predecessor.

If anything, new sources of conflict have emerged. The ruling party, which forms a core pillar of the administration, has advanced controversial policies with such force that it can seem less a governing party than a generator of conflict. While the Lee government boasts of democratic recovery at international forums, at home, it has pressed legislation widely seen as targeting the judiciary, one of the three pillars of constitutional government. Bills to establish a special tribunal for insurrection cases and to introduce a crime of “distortion of law” have been pushed forward despite widespread concern about their intent. The ruling party has also pursued revisions to the Media Arbitration Act that include punitive damages provisions.

The rhetoric is democratic, but the substance threatens the foundations of democracy. These reckless and irrational legislative drives have alienated many who genuinely hoped the Lee administration would restore democratic norms. This is not a matter of partisan disagreement but of confidence in the government’s commitment to constitutional principles.

President Lee spoke of coexistence and reconciliation. The peaceful coexistence of differing views and ideologies is a core principle of democracy, one that requires dialogue and compromise among competing political forces. Yet, while the president invoked reconciliation, the ruling party has declared that it will not even shake hands with the opposition. Such behavior signals not coexistence but further division and conflict. Over the past six months, the Democratic Party has shown that while it may be adept at acquiring power, its capacity to govern effectively remains questionable.

In his inauguration address, President Lee also said that integration is a measure of competence and division the result of incompetence, adding that political forces lacking both ability and will to improve people’s lives resort to sowing hatred to cling to power. Such words are easy to utter in opposition. Once in power, however, responsibility follows. Failing to live up to those words risks turning the governing camp into precisely the kind of force it once criticized.

A helicopter carrying martial law troops lands at the grounds of the National Assembly in Yeouido, western Seoul, in the early hours of Dec. 4, 2024, after then President Yoon Suk Yeol declared emergency martial law in a late-night televised address to the nation on Dec. 3, 2024. [JEON MIN-GYU]

The ruling party’s confidence may stem in part from the weakness of the opposition. The People Power Party lost power through reckless and irresponsible conduct, yet it shows little sign of genuine remorse, introspection or meaningful reform. It resembles a party devoid of vitality. The PPP remains trapped in the shadow of Yoon Suk Yeol, who in a recent poll was rated even more negatively than Chun Doo Hwan, who seized power through the Dec. 12, 1979, military coup. It appears to be a political force that has exhausted its historical role.

With a president who promised an era of happiness but shows little effort to deliver it and an opposition mired in an anachronistic past, even thinking about words like coexistence, reconciliation, solidarity, dreams, hope and happiness begins to feel like a luxury. It has not been a happy year and daily life has not improved. Perhaps this year is already lost. But will the next be any better. Looking around, there seems little reason for optimism, making this year’s end feel all the more hollow.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.