On December 3, 2025, South Korea marked a somber and reflective anniversary—one year to the day since former President Yoon Suk Yeol’s failed declaration of martial law sent shockwaves through the nation’s democracy. In a televised address, President Lee Jae Myung promised "strict accountability" for those behind the attempted self-coup, calling the events of December 3, 2024, a "revolution of light"—a phrase that has since echoed in both official discourse and the hearts of countless citizens who took to the streets in resistance, according to Ariang News.
Lee’s speech was not just a look back, but a call to vigilance. He emphasized that the revolution was "incomplete," noting that investigations and trials tied to the insurrection remain ongoing. The former president, Yoon Suk Yeol, is currently on trial for insurrection—an offense that carries the maximum penalty of death. Prosecutors have also sought a 15-year prison term for former Prime Minister Han Duck-soo, while other senior officials, including Yoon’s defense minister and the former head of the National Intelligence Service, have been arrested in connection with the martial law attempt. "Those who destroyed the constitutional order for personal ambition and even sought to provoke war must face judgment, to build a country where no one can ever again dream of a coup," Lee declared, according to Ariang News.
The crisis began on the night of December 3, 2024. In a late-night address, Yoon accused Lee’s Democratic Party of Korea of engaging in "anti-state activities" and colluding with "North Korean communists." He ordered troops to surround the National Assembly, soldiers blocked access, and clashes erupted between protesters, lawmakers, and special forces. Yet, within just three hours, 190 of the 300 National Assembly lawmakers—including Lee—managed to gather in the chamber and unanimously overturned the martial law decree. Yoon lifted the order about six hours after his announcement, but the damage had been done. South Korea spiraled into weeks of political turmoil, with Yoon impeached on December 14 and a carousel of acting presidents and legal battles gripping the nation until Yoon’s final removal from office in April 2025.
The reverberations of that failed coup have been felt far beyond the halls of government. The streets of Seoul and cities across the country became stages for a remarkable outpouring of civil resistance. On March 22, 2025, dozens of flags flew above crowds gathered outside Gyeongbok Palace, calling for Yoon’s deposition. According to Hankyoreh, the spirit of resistance that stopped the insurrection continues to shape Korean society, inspiring ordinary people to become activists and advocates for democracy in their everyday lives.
One of the most iconic symbols of the impeachment rallies was a simple white flag emblazoned with the word “(introvert).” Its creator, Kang Min-ji, a self-described "ordinary, introverted office worker," began attending protests after Yoon’s martial law declaration. "I was furious that the Yoon administration, which had oppressed women and minorities, was now trying to oppress our daily lives," Kang told Hankyoreh. She took days off from work to join four months of rallies, an experience that became a turning point in her life. In September 2025, Kang began producing and selling “introvert” merchandise, raising over 2 million won (about US$1,363) to support LGBTQ+ youth and animal rights organizations. "It’s sad that there’s still so much to fight for, but I hold onto the hope that if we continue to stand in solidarity, society will change for the better," she said.
The protests drew in many who had never before considered themselves political. Light sticks—usually reserved for K-pop concerts—became beacons of hope and defiance. A book published on the first anniversary of the martial law declaration, titled K-pop Light Stick Girls, chronicles the stories of young women who protested with light sticks in hand. "The light sticks at the impeachment protests confirmed the possibility of a movement rooted in love and optimism," the authors wrote. They reflected on how the experience transformed their understanding of both fandom and citizenship, quoting a Girls’ Generation song that became an anthem for the rallies: "Into the New World."
Other voices emerged as well. On November 18, 2025, Moon Ga-bin, a 20-year-old who had previously been indifferent to disability rights activism, participated in the 66th "Commuter Subway Ride" protest for mobility rights. Moon was galvanized by witnessing a powerful speech from Park Kyung-seok, a leader in the disability rights movement, at an impeachment rally. "I felt ashamed that I had only thought about martial law and civil unrest, never once thinking about a ‘democracy where disabled people can move as citizens too,’" Moon said.
The rallies also gave rise to viral moments that resonated far beyond the protest sites. On December 11, 2024, Kim Yu-jin, who identified herself as "a so-called bar girl," delivered a speech in Busan calling for solidarity with marginalized groups. A video of her remarks quickly amassed over 5 million views. "If all these issues—the deaths of Coupang workers, violence against women, sexual minorities, people with disabilities, migrant workers—remain unresolved, our democracy will still be imperfect," she said. Her courage was rewarded when an anonymous donor, moved by her story, funded her tuition and living expenses, allowing her to quit her job and focus on her studies.
Teenagers, too, found their voices. On November 22, 2025, 17-year-old Min Ji-hwan spoke at a press conference, demanding the repeal of a proposed ordinance that would extend cram schools’ closing times. He had dropped out of high school to pursue his dream of becoming a musical director, but the events of December 3, 2024, changed his life. "I, just one person—a nobody—can change the world," Min said, recalling how the martial law declaration spurred him to take part in around 30 rallies. He now hopes to inspire other young people to engage with democracy, despite pressure from peers who dismiss politics or support Yoon. "I want to let people know that there are teenagers who are not far-right, ones who want democracy. Just look at me."
For many, the protests became a place to build new communities and foster solidarity across divides. LGBTQ+ activists, such as Cho Yong-hwa, found strength in the collective fight for democracy. Cho, who came out publicly as transgender during an impeachment rally, later organized a writing group for queer people in Jeonju. "During the timeframe of impeachment, I encountered the voices of other LGBTQ+ people, and this made me confident to be myself in my local community," Cho told Hankyoreh. Even after the rallies ended, the group continued to support one another, celebrating milestones and facing setbacks together.
President Lee, in his anniversary address, commended the South Korean people for overcoming an "unprecedented democratic crisis" peacefully, suggesting they were "fully deserving of the Nobel Peace Prize." When asked if he would nominate the Korean people for the honor, Lee clarified that it was just his personal opinion, but he hoped it would "trigger people's discussions." His words captured the pride and determination that many South Koreans feel after a year of reckoning with the fragility—and strength—of their democracy.
As the nation continues to grapple with the aftermath of the failed self-coup, the legacy of those tumultuous months endures. From introverted office workers to K-pop fans, from disability rights activists to high school dropouts, South Koreans have shown that democracy is not just a system, but a lived practice—one that demands vigilance, courage, and, above all, solidarity.