A protester waves a South Korean flag among others gathered outside the National Assembly in Seoul, South Korea, to protest then president Yoon Suk Yeol’s declaration of martial law, December 4, 2024.
A protester waves a South Korean flag among others gathered outside the National Assembly in Seoul, South Korea, to protest then president Yoon Suk Yeol’s declaration of martial law, December 4, 2024. Credit: Associated Press

Once again, President Donald Trump is peddling election lies. His recent speech on “voting integrity” asserted a variety of falsehoods, including that China or Venezuela tried to influence the 2020 election, with little evidence to support his allegations. It is the same trope he’s offered for years. He cannot fathom that he lost the 2020 election.  

There is no need to respond to each of his claims, beyond noting that he cannot substantiate his assertions. Instead, we must recognize that he is again trying to undermine public faith in our elections, which is a cornerstone of democracy. On January 6, 2021, we saw what can happen when a significant segment of the electorate believes the election is rigged.  

The most important aspect of sustaining democracy, especially when the president shows little fidelity to its principles, is for the public to loudly and clearly denounce the lies. The people need to speak up and actively protest when those in power undermine democracy.  

That’s one of the key things I learned while serving as a Fulbright Specialist at Korea University this summer. South Korea also faced a significant threat to its democracy, but the public’s response was quite different.  

Late in the evening on December 3, 2024, Korea’s president, Yoon Suk Yeol, appeared on television and declared martial law. This was an unprecedented move with no warning or provocation. President Yoon claimed, without evidence, that the National Assembly (Korea’s legislature) was working to overthrow the nation’s liberal democratic system due to “anti-state forces” from the opposition party. He purported to outlaw political activity and censor all media. He saw martial law as a way to respond to the opposition party and also seemed to be laying the groundwork to stay in power.  

The backlash was swift. Almost immediately, thousands of citizens descended on the National Assembly in protest. Meanwhile, National Assembly members tried to enter the building to convene and overrule the martial law declaration. Military forces sought to barricade the building and keep the lawmakers out, but everyday citizens—braving the cold in the middle of the night—helped numerous lawmakers climb over the fence and breach the barriers to reach the chamber. Instead of citizens storming the legislature to thwart an election, like in our country on January 6, 2021, ordinary Koreans were rallying to their legislature to save democracy. 

Around 1:00 am, members of the National Assembly who made it inside voted unanimously to reverse the martial law declaration. Although the president should have immediately ended the martial law decree, he was silent, causing the Speaker of the National Assembly to demand that the president act. Yoon finally responded, lifting his order around 4:30 am.  

Later that day, the National Assembly introduced impeachment proceedings. The measure initially failed to garner enough votes because of objections from Yoon’s party, but the public outcry was massive. After tens of thousands of Koreans protested, the impeachment measure passed ten days later. As a result, Yoon was suspended from office. Six months later, South Koreans, with strong voter turnout, chose Lee Jae Myung of the opposition party as president. A little more than a year after Yoon declared martial law, he was prosecuted and sentenced to life imprisonment. 

Korea’s response to the attempted self-coup demonstrated the power of citizens to protect democracy. My conversations with Korean academics and everyday voters revealed why they value democracy so much that they were willing to speak out vociferously against Yoon’s attempted aggrandizement of power. Korea has an authoritarian history, and many people recalled what military rule was like. Even younger Koreans, such as the woman in her twenties whom I met at a train station, know enough history to recognize what life was like under a military regime even though they never experienced it themselves. They embraced an obligation to ensure that South Korea does not fall back into that system. 

I spoke with one Korean who said, “Voting is the flower of democracy”—a saying that is known throughout the country. What a beautiful sentiment. A law professor at Korea University told me that “Koreans tend to have a strong sense of pride and a powerful drive for success. Having progressed from dictatorship to democracy, there is a psychological reluctance to accept any step backward. They tend to believe that unless they take action themselves, the country’s democracy cannot be safeguarded.” Another professor, who rushed to the National Assembly that night after the martial law declaration, told me that he felt a sense of duty and purpose—and that he was willing to sacrifice his life if needed to protect his country. This public outcry forced the legislature to act. 

As one expert told the BBC, “At a time when global democracy appears fragile, the Korean case offers a rare example of democratic resilience. It reminds us that democracy ultimately depends not only on formal rules, but on citizens and institutions willing to defend them.” 

Korean democracy is by no means perfect. In June, the country was rocked by a scandal over the local elections after some precincts did not have enough printed ballots available to voters. Yet the public’s response to that issue—complete dismay that some people could not vote and the resignation of members of the National Election Commission—says a lot about their fidelity to voting rights for all.  

Contrast the U.S. response to threats to democracy. Although Trump has not declared martial law, his rhetoric and actions have sought to undermine democracy, most notably on January 6, 2021. Yet the response from elected bodies and the American electorate was weaker. After the January 6 insurrection, Trump was impeached in the House, but the Senate failed to convict. The chamber could have declared Trump ineligible to run for office again. Instead, Trump embarked on a multi-year effort to revise history, including during the 2024 campaign, changing the public’s perception of the 2020 election and its aftermath. His July speech on elections showed that he is still waging that battle despite all evidence that the 2020 election was secure. Meanwhile, the Supreme Court continues to curtail the right to vote.  

Yet the American public seems to shrug its shoulders, accepting that Trump will continue to peddle falsehoods and the high court will trim its rights. To be sure, there have been significant “No Kings” protests, but there has not been sustained pressure, especially on lawmakers, to check Trump’s abuses. Voter turnout is still way too low, and too few voters have made sustaining democracy their number one issue.  

The Korean Wave, or hallyu, has taken over American pop culture, with K-pop bands among the most popular of all time and Korean cuisine and beauty products on the march. Perhaps it’s time for Americans also to embrace Korea’s reverence for democracy and its sustained push to check democratic abuses of power. As the Koreans I have met told me, that must start with the people themselves.  

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Joshua A. Douglas is a law professor at the University of Kentucky J. David Rosenberg College of Law. He is the author of The Court v. The Voters: The Troubling Story of How the Supreme Court Has Undermined Voting Rights. He is currently working on a new project on voter turnout and nonvoters. He is also the host of the award-winning Democracy Optimist podcast. Find him at www.joshuaadouglas.com.