Around 1 a.m. on Saturday, May 10, 2025, South Korea’s main conservative party, the People Power Party (PPP), executed what amounts to a quiet procedural coup. In the dead of night, three official notices appeared in rapid succession on the party’s bulletin board – each one more consequential than the last.

The first, titled “Announcement of Cancellation of the Selection of the 21st Presidential Candidate of the PPP” abruptly nullified the nomination of Kim Moon-soo. Kim had secured the candidacy through a months-long primary process, earning the support of the party base.

The second, “PPP 21st Presidential Candidate Registration Application Notice,” announced a one-hour window – between 3 am and 4 am on the same day – for new candidates to register.

Applicants were required to submit 32 documents, including a Proof of Criminal Record (No. 15), and an Election Office Establishment Report (No. 24). Many of these items require in-person visits to government offices and time. Given that the offices were closed on Saturday and the notices appeared just hours before the deadline, the only conceivable candidate was someone pre-informed and fully prepared.

The third and final notice, “21st Presidential Election Candidate Registration Notice,” confirmed what many suspected: Han Duk-soo was listed as the sole registered candidate.

Unaccountable authority

According to Article 74 of the PPP’s constitution, “the presidential candidate shall have priority over all authority over party affairs to the extent necessary to efficiently promote election affairs from the day of election until the presidential election day.”

Kim Moon-soo, citing this clause, attempted to exercise his authority. His request was ignored by party leadership.

Kim, who had earned his nomination through a transparent and competitive process, was cast aside without explanation or apology. In a matter of hours, the outcome of months of democratic engagement was overturned. In its place was a backroom coronation.

Han Duck-soo: a leader with no agenda of his own

That authority now rests with Han Duck-soo – the former prime minister under President Yoon – who wasn’t even a party member until hours before his nomination. He did not participate in the primary process, did not stand for a vote, and has never run for elected office in his life.

He has no record of political ambition and has publicly stated repeatedly that he will simply “follow what the party tells him to do.” When Kim Moon-soo invoked Article 74 of the party constitution to assert that he was the rightful representative of the party, Han simply ignored him.

Even more curiously, Han has said that if elected, he plans to step down after three years – raising urgent questions about who or what truly stands behind his candidacy.

The public’s voice erased

The PPP leadership’s decision to cancel the candidacy of someone chosen through public primaries has left many South Koreans facing a grim realization: They have no real voice in selecting their own leaders.

The will of the people can be undone – silently, without warning and without recourse.

While the leftist Minjoo Party has become a vehicle for Lee Jae-myung – a party by Lee, of Lee and for Lee – the conservative PPP has similarly transformed into a party driven by, shaped by and ultimately serving the interests of those behind Han Duk-soo.

The fragility beneath its democratic facade

What took place on May 10 was not routine political strategy. It was a full-scale collapse of democratic norms – and a warning shot fired at the very foundation of South Korea’s constitutional order.

In a country once hailed as a beacon of democratic maturity in East Asia, both of its main parties now seem dominated by personality cults and elite power plays.

A failing democracy on the front line of US-China rivalry

South Korea’s political unraveling is not happening in isolation. The country occupies one of the world’s most critical geopolitical crossroads – bordering China, Japan, and Russia, and anchored by a long-standing military alliance with the United States.

The Korean Peninsula is not a relic of Cold War tension. It is an active geopolitical fault line.

At a time when the US is trying to contain China’s rise – militarily, economically, and technologically – with the help of its allies, South Korea’s liberal democratic institutions are being hollowed out from within.

Washington has long viewed Seoul as a stable democratic ally in a region increasingly dominated by authoritarian regimes. But if that democratic core erodes, the consequences could be serious.

A compromised South Korea undermines US-led coalition-building, weakens trust among fellow democracies like Japan, and emboldens authoritarian actors eager to see liberal democracy fail in East Asia.

A linchpin in peril

The events of May 10 should alarm not only South Koreans, but all who are committed to a free and open Indo-Pacific. South Korea is a strategic linchpin – and its democracy now stands in jeopardy.

Hanjin Lew, a political commentator specializing in East Asian affairs, is a former international spokesman for South Korean conservative parties.