On August 15, 2026, the atmosphere at Seoul’s Olympic Park was anything but festive. While the nation celebrated the 81st anniversary of its liberation, a fierce political storm was brewing. Jang Dong-hyuk, the outspoken leader of the People Power Party, stood before a crowd of supporters, waving a large Taegeukgi flag and invoking the spirit of South Korea’s first president, Syngman Rhee. His message was clear: President Lee Jae-myung’s push for a constitutional amendment to allow presidential re-election was, in his words, nothing less than an attempt to extend dictatorship.
Jang’s rallying cry was underscored by symbolism. Around his neck hung a necklace bearing Rhee’s face, and as he read aloud from Rhee’s historic 1948 speech—delivered on the very day the Republic of Korea was established—he reminded the crowd, “Syngman Rhee already declared that the right to vote is the foundation of the Republic of Korea and its constitution.” Jang then challenged, “But are our freedoms, our voting rights, and our free Republic of Korea truly safe right now?” according to Daily Journal and Kyunghyang Shinmun.
The crowd responded with fervor, waving both Korean and American flags and chanting slogans like, “Fraudulent election, re-election, on-the-day voting and multiple vote counts,” and “Impeach Lee Jae-myung.” The protest’s tone was unmistakable: a warning shot at what they saw as a looming threat to South Korea’s democracy. Jang’s rhetoric was uncompromising. “Our ancestors gave their lives to overthrow dictatorship and establish democracy,” he declared. “Now, President Lee Jae-myung is trying to extend dictatorship in Korea through this constitutional amendment.”
Jang was not alone in his opposition. The rally drew a notable contingent of People Power Party lawmakers and top officials. Five-term lawmaker Jo Bae-sook and four-term Park Dae-chul were among those who took the stage to greet supporters, alongside other current and former members such as Jeong Hee-yong, Lee In-sun, Park Sung-min, and more. The event, hosted by senior spokesperson Park Chung-kwon, was a show of force from the conservative opposition—signaling that the battle over constitutional reform would be front and center in the months to come.
Jang’s critique wasn’t limited to the rally stage. In an interview with the online outlet PenN Mike, he issued a stark warning: “Any member of the National Assembly who supports President Lee’s re-election amendment will face judgment from the people and from history.” This was not the first time Jang had taken to Olympic Park to protest. Following the June 3 local elections—marred by ballot shortages and voting rights controversies—he had led multiple rallies demanding greater transparency in election management. But on this particular Liberation Day, the focus had shifted almost entirely to the constitutional amendment and what Jang called the “defense of democracy.”
While the opposition rallied in the park, President Lee Jae-myung delivered his own Liberation Day address just a few miles away at the Sejong Center in Seoul. This year’s speech was notable for its focus on the country’s youth—a group whose support has become increasingly elusive for the president. “Especially for young people taking their first steps into society, we will build robust ladders of opportunity covering all stages of life, so they can rise again after setbacks and become the leaders of tomorrow,” Lee promised, according to Hankyoreh. He drew a direct line between the passion of past generations and the challenges facing today’s youth, vowing that the government would stand firmly behind them.
But Lee’s reassurances came at a precarious moment. Just one day earlier, on August 14, Gallup Korea released a poll showing the president’s job approval rating had slipped to 44% positive and 46% negative—a “dead cross,” as political analysts call it, where negative evaluations outpace positive ones. The shift was sharp: three weeks prior, Lee’s approval had been 51% positive and 38% negative. The reasons, according to respondents? Real estate policies (30%), economic and livelihood issues (13%), general dissatisfaction (7%), the stripping of prosecutorial investigative powers, accusations of authoritarianism (both 5%), and concerns over morality, evasion of legal proceedings, and national security (each 4%).
The data revealed a particularly steep decline in support among young adults in their 20s and 30s, and among Seoul residents. In early August, only 30% of those in their 20s and 37% in their 30s viewed Lee’s job performance positively, with negative ratings at 48% and 49%, respectively. Seoul’s numbers were similarly bleak: 42% positive and 47% negative. As Hankyoreh noted, “The alienation of the 2030 generation is not the cause, but a symptom of broader governance failures.” The paper pointed to worsening asset and income inequality, regional disparities, and a lack of quality jobs as underlying factors, arguing that the youngest adults—those most vulnerable—are the first to voice their discontent.
Lee has not ignored these warning signs. Returning from an overseas trip on August 3, he immediately chaired meetings on real estate and stock market issues. On August 6 and 8, he convened further sessions focused on expanding housing supply and implementing swift policy action. By August 14, he was hosting a roundtable with youth policy experts, acknowledging, “The older generation enjoyed many opportunities and reaped the benefits, but it seems the new generation has fewer chances.”
Yet, as political observers note, policy tweaks and symbolic gestures may not be enough. “Will appointing a youth secretary at the Blue House or a youth supreme council member in the Democratic Party win back the support of young voters?” Hankyoreh asked rhetorically. “Probably not.” The paper emphasized that the 2030 generation is not simply selfish or focused solely on personal livelihood—they are deeply invested in fairness and the nation’s future. Their skepticism toward Lee’s judicial reforms and re-election amendment, the article argued, stems from a sense of violated fairness and a lack of genuine dialogue and compromise in governance.
Looking ahead, the stakes are high. The Democratic Party is set to elect new leadership on August 17, and many see this as a crucial opportunity for Lee to reset his administration. The advice from critics is blunt: hold those responsible for policy failures accountable, bring in new faces, and, above all, pursue national unity through dialogue and compromise with the opposition. Only then, they say, might President Lee hope to reverse the tide of public opinion and achieve what’s known as a “golden cross”—where positive approval ratings once again outstrip the negative.
As the summer heat lingers and political passions run high, South Korea stands at a crossroads. The coming months will reveal whether its leaders can bridge divides and restore faith in the nation’s democratic institutions—or whether the dead cross will deepen, leaving the country even more polarized than before.