On January 16, 2026, South Korea witnessed a momentous chapter in its democratic history as former President Yoon Suk Yeol was sentenced to five years in prison by the Seoul Central District Court. The verdict, broadcast live and watched by millions—including commuters at Seoul Station—marked the first judicial reckoning for Yoon’s dramatic and controversial attempt to impose martial law in December 2024. The sentence, handed down by Judge Baek Dae-hyun, addressed charges ranging from obstruction of justice to the fabrication and destruction of official documents, and has set the stage for further legal proceedings that could reshape South Korea’s political landscape.
Yoon’s legal troubles began after his abrupt declaration of martial law on December 3, 2024—a move that stunned the nation and sent shockwaves through Asia’s fourth-largest economy. According to Yonhap, the declaration lasted only six hours before the National Assembly, including members of Yoon’s own People Power Party, voted overwhelmingly to nullify it. Lawmakers soon after initiated impeachment proceedings, and the Constitutional Court ultimately removed Yoon from office in April 2025, citing a flagrant violation of his presidential duties.
The court’s ruling on January 16 was unflinching in its assessment of Yoon’s conduct. Judge Baek, presiding over a packed and nationally televised courtroom, stated, “Despite having a duty, above all others, to uphold the Constitution and observe the rule of law as president, the defendant instead displayed an attitude that disregarded the... Constitution.” He further remarked, “The defendant’s culpability is extremely grave.” As reported by The Korea Times, Yoon’s actions were found to have directly violated the constitutional rights of Cabinet ministers by failing to notify all members about the martial law meeting, a requirement intended to prevent abuse of presidential power. “The fact that the Constitution specifically requires deliberation on a declaration of martial law is meant to prevent abuse of presidential power and to check unilateral decision-making. So the president must, even more than in ordinary Cabinet meetings, listen carefully to the views of all Cabinet members and act with great caution,” Judge Baek emphasized.
The list of charges for which Yoon was convicted is extensive. The court found him guilty of ordering the Presidential Security Service to block investigators from executing a lawful arrest warrant on January 3, 2025, after he had barricaded himself inside his residential compound. This act, the judge said, amounted to turning the security service into his “own private guard” for personal benefit. Yoon was also convicted of fabricating official documentation—tampering with the date and signatures on a martial law proclamation to create the false appearance of due process—and of destroying evidence by wiping data from secure phones used by military commanders. As DW noted, these actions were seen as clear attempts to obstruct justice and conceal wrongdoing.
However, the court did acquit Yoon on two points: the violation of the rights of two Cabinet members, and the charge that he ordered the distribution of false press statements to foreign media. Judge Baek ruled that the latter did not meet the threshold for criminal liability. Still, the verdict painted a damning portrait of a president who, in the court’s words, “offered implausible excuses and has shown no sign of reflecting on or repenting for his wrongdoing.”
The prosecution, led by special counsel Cho Eun-suk, had sought a ten-year sentence, arguing that Yoon had committed a “grave crime” by privatizing state institutions to conceal and justify his actions. The five-year sentence handed down by the court was half of what prosecutors requested. According to Yonhap, the court also affirmed that the Corruption Investigation Office for High-ranking Officials had acted within its authority during the investigation and execution of the detention warrant—a significant point given the heated political debate over the office’s role in recent years.
Yoon’s defense team was quick to denounce the ruling. Yoo Jung-hwa, one of his lawyers, told reporters, “We express regret that the decision was made in a politicised manner,” and confirmed that Yoon intends to appeal. This legal battle is far from over; as DW reported, Yoon is facing a total of eight trials, including charges related to his wife’s alleged corruption and the 2023 death of a Marine. Most notably, he still awaits a verdict on the most serious charge: masterminding an insurrection. Special prosecutors have called for the death penalty in that case, with a ruling expected on February 19, 2026.
The context surrounding Yoon’s downfall is as dramatic as the charges themselves. After his People Power Party lost its parliamentary majority in early 2024, Yoon declared that the country was under siege from opposition and “anti-state” forces. He claimed his martial law plan was intended to restore democratic order. But his attempt to consolidate power backfired spectacularly. When investigators arrived to execute an arrest warrant, Yoon ordered his security detail to hold them off. It took some 3,000 police officers to break through and apprehend the sitting president—a first in South Korean history, according to DW.
The fallout was swift. The National Assembly’s vote to impeach Yoon was followed by a Constitutional Court decision upholding his removal. In June 2025, Lee Jae Myung of the rival Democratic Party was elected president, signaling a new direction for the country’s leadership. The televised nature of Yoon’s trial, only the third time in South Korea’s history that a former president’s sentencing was broadcast live, underscored the public’s intense interest in the proceedings and the broader questions they raise about accountability and the rule of law.
The court’s decision has also prompted discussion about the limits of presidential power and the safeguards built into South Korea’s democracy. As Judge Baek noted, martial law is an “extremely exceptional” measure, permissible only when no other means exist to address a national crisis. The events of December 2024 and their aftermath have become a cautionary tale for both current and future leaders, highlighting the importance of constitutional checks and the dangers of unilateral action.
As the nation awaits the February verdict on insurrection charges—and as Yoon’s legal team prepares its appeal—the eyes of South Korea, and indeed the world, remain fixed on the unfolding story. The outcome will not only determine the fate of a former president but will also serve as a litmus test for the resilience of South Korea’s democratic institutions in the face of extraordinary challenges.