Can South Korean Christians overcome political divides?
A Christianity Today journalist sorts out the situation following a bitter impeachment
Protestors against the arrest and impeachment of Korean president Yoon Suk Yeol in January 2025. Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons.
On April 4, the Constitutional Court of South Korea ruled that the National Assembly’s impeachment of president Yoon Suk Yeol was valid, thereby formally removing him from office. This action resolved a political crisis that began on December 3, 2024, when Yoon claimed that North Korean forces were exerting influence through an opposition party.
The intense political situation has divided South Korea’s vibrant Protestant community, in a manner somewhat reminiscent of political battles in the United States. Yoon argued that decisive action was necessary because the opposition party was paralyzing the government. His supporters called him a bulwark against anti-communist and anti-Christian influences, while his opponents viewed him as a threat to democracy. In contrast to the US, however, where polls show over 70 percent of white evangelicals backing Donald Trump’s authoritarian presidency, most Korean evangelicals opposed Yoon.
Christianity Today magazine’s East Asia editor, Isabel Ong, has followed the Korean situation closely, writing extensive articles in January on opposition protests, in March on pro-Yoon advocacy, and in April on the bitter divisions between evangelical Christians on opposite sides of the conflict. I asked Isabel to offer some reflections as South Korea prepares to elect a new president tomorrow, June 3.
Explain how evangelical Christians are aligned politically in South Korea.
The situation in South Korea is not as clearly split along racial and political party lines as in the US. Generational and geographic differences seem to play a larger role in informing evangelical stances on politics.
In my interview with Fuller Seminary professor Sebastian Kim, he shared that evangelical support for Yoon varies between age groups (older people are more conservative) and also between regions (the southeastern regions of the country are more conservative and southwestern regions are more progressive and anti-establishment).
In Kim’s words, “Korean evangelicals are ideologically anti-communist, hold conservative values on moral, ethical, and social issues, pursue democracy (with a certain hierarchical and authoritative approach), and favor a capitalistic and neo-liberal economic system.”
What were the main arguments presented by Christians on each side?
Yoon opponents would say Yoon had to be impeached because he violated the Constitution by declaring martial law, and that doing so undermined democracy in the country.
Yoon supporters would argue that Yoon’s impeachment was unjust as his act of declaring martial law was warranted, as a means of preventing communist forces from gaining control in South Korea.
Your April article quoted one Korean who suggested that those on the other side were subject to "brainwashing." Did you perceive any of that? Do you think people on either side were driven by prejudice, conspiracy theories, lack of logic, or anything else that tends to cause them to lose touch with reality in their fervor?
I do think “brainwashing” is a rather strong assertion to make, but it was a quote from a source that I wanted to include in my report as it shows how we can, unfortunately, perceive others in a rather uncharitable way. It almost feels like there’s no common middle ground for evangelicals to hear and understand where the other is coming from.
Some of this divisive rhetoric is coming from within evangelical circles, such as through pastor Jun Kwang-hoon of Sarang Jeil Church, who has been quite vocal in his support for Yoon, saying things like, “If President Yoon hadn’t declared martial law, the country would already be in the hands of North Korea!”
I did sense some degree of prejudice and animosity from both pro- and anti-Yoon camps in the course of our reporting. But I would not say the sources whom we interviewed are losing touch with reality in their fervor. There might be people who are experiencing this, but it’s similarly uncharitable for me as a journalist to characterize them in this way.
The one thing that struck me in our interviews with people, whether pro- or anti-Yoon, is that they love their country deeply. I think this is what drives them, what made them turn up at protest sites day after day, no matter how cold or far away these protests were.
People on both sides were quoted as saying reconciliation between Christians who differed on this case might not be possible, or even that they don't want to try. Why are the feelings so strong? Did you see any signs of attempts to build bridges, or do you have ideas as to how it might be possible?
I surmise that these people’s sentiments are so strong not for a lack of trying, but because they have attempted to do so but failed to convince another to widen their perspective or consider something that might go against their tightly held beliefs. One source lamented the lack of genuine dialogue, while another said he experienced a deep disconnect when trying to have conversations with others.
I didn’t come across any attempts to build bridges while reporting on this issue, but perhaps things are changing now as South Korea gears up for its presidential election tomorrow. I’d be interested to learn more about Korean evangelicals who are leading such efforts, whether within their own families or in their churches, campuses, or workplaces. They can email asia@christianitytoday.com to share more details.
I am not Korean and hence will not be fully aware of the cultural difficulties and nuances that come with building bridges in this context, but one way I think an evangelical can connect with another of a different political persuasion is to seek to listen and understand without judgment, remembering that this person, too, is an image-bearer of God. The goal is not to get someone to switch sides, but to learn to inhabit another person’s perspective, walk in their shoes, and understand what their underlying fears and motivations are. I’m well aware that all this is easier said than done; praying for wisdom and tenacity would also be necessary as we learn to love our ideological enemies.
What should we learn from this case?
One lesson I’ve gleaned through reporting on Yoon’s impeachment and evangelical reactions to it is that we ought to pay attention to young people in our particular contexts or countries. What are they struggling with most? What are they yearning for? What kind of future do they want for themselves? How do their beliefs about God drive their actions or inactions?
Many young Korean Christians turned up at protests in South Korea to demonstrate that they want their voices heard; they want a say in determining who leads their country. In my home country of Singapore, I saw more young people voicing their opinions on voting well in our recent general elections. It surprised me as most people generally feel afraid to talk openly about who they’re voting for and why in an environment dominated by one political party.
Skyler R. Flowers and Michael Graham, in Christianity Today’s May/June issue, argue that American evangelicalism is fractured, but it can still move forward. I would say this is also applicable in South Korea. There is hope amid disunity and disillusionment, and that hope is grounded in the person of Jesus Christ, not in political affiliations or presidential candidates.
Flowers and Graham argue for a kind of evangelical catholicity where churches partner together to contribute to the flourishing of their cities. Perhaps this is what we all can seek God for in times of polarity, when we see our cities and countries torn apart by political conflict—that God might cause new, surprising fruit to break out of our hardened hearts, and that the Holy Spirit might convict us to lay down our metaphorical weapons against fellow siblings in Christ. This is far from idealism or wishful thinking, but a biblical vision that we press into as ones who proclaim him as Lord and Savior of our lives.