April 22, 2025
SEOUL – When South Korea’s former president, Yoon Suk Yeol, was ousted on April 4 by the Constitutional Court, millions watched the live broadcast of the court’s ruling — read by acting Chief Justice Moon Hyung-bae. The verdict was not only logically rigorous but also deeply resonant: Yoon had violated his presidential duties by declaring martial law on Dec. 3, a move the court deemed an unconstitutional overreach that posed a serious threat to democracy. With that, Yoon was permanently removed from office.
The moment marked a climax in an already dramatic political saga. Moon, who had been serving as acting chief justice since the resignation of Justice Lee Jong-seok in October 2024, delivered not just a legal conclusion but a statement on the importance of democratic principles.
On Friday, Moon and fellow Justice Lee Mi-son stepped down after completing their six-year terms. During a ceremony marking this milestone at the court, Moon warned of the perils that arise when government agencies disregard constitutional norms. “(The Constitutional Court’s) decisions must be respected,” he said, cautioning that social order can unravel in the absence of such respect.
He also defended the court’s integrity against personal or ideological attacks: “Academic debates and criticism should of course be permitted, but ad hominem arguments should be avoided.” His comment referenced a persistent problem in Korean politics — personal and often malicious criticism of justices based on their perceived political leanings or personal background.
Lee, in her own parting remarks, echoed his concerns. She emphasized that democratic institutions must uphold constitutional values and that the court’s mission is to protect the basic rights of citizens while preserving the rule of law.
Both justices were appointed in April 2019 by then-President Moon Jae-in, under a tripartite system that allocates three appointments to the president, three to the National Assembly and three to the Supreme Court. Unsurprisingly, their appointments drew criticism from conservatives, who alleged liberal bias. But the ideological fault lines run far deeper than individual justice appointments.
In February, the conservative ruling People Power Party demanded Moon Hyung-bae’s resignation over an alleged online comment — one later revealed to be fabricated. The party eventually issued an apology, but the episode underscored the toxic climate in which the court operates.
That divisive environment has also undermined the court’s functionality. When it ruled on Yoon’s impeachment, the bench was incomplete, with only eight out of the full nine justices. On April 8, Prime Minister and acting President Han Duck-soo appointed National Assembly nominee Ma Eun-hyuk as the ninth justice and also went ahead and exercised the presidential authority to nominate Minister of Government Legislation Lee Wan-kyu and senior judge Ham Sang-hoon to fill the newly vacated seats.
But last week, the Constitutional Court suspended the latter two nominations, responding to an injunction request that questioned the legality of Han’s authority to make such nominations while serving in an acting capacity. The court now has just seven sitting justices.
This is not an isolated case. The court has a long history of political deadlock impeding its operations. In 2011, one seat remained vacant for 14 months due to a partisan stalemate. In 2018, five justices retired simultaneously, and the National Assembly failed to fill their seats in time, leaving the court hobbled for nearly a month. A similar issue occurred again in October 2024, when three justices retired. The National Assembly delayed nominations for over two months, reinforcing the public perception that judicial appointments are little more than political bargaining chips.
While the Constitution’s provision for appointing nine justices reflects a commitment to the separation of powers, the current system has become a partisan battleground. Reform is urgently needed. South Korea must reimagine how justices are selected — ensuring that the process strengthens, rather than weakens, the court’s political independence and public credibility.
The judiciary is meant to serve as a safeguard, not a spoils system. In a democracy as vibrant — and as vulnerable — as South Korea’s, the health of the court may be the truest measure of constitutional strength.