Park Jung-won, Ph.D. in law from the London School of Economics (LSE), is a professor of international law at Dankook University.
Lee Jae Myung faces his moment of truth

Politics can be remarkably unforgiving. Just a few months ago, President Lee Jae Myung appeared to be governing with extraordinary confidence. He televised live Cabinet meetings, openly reprimanded ministers and insisted that his administration would be guided by pragmatism rather than ideology. He spoke confidently about revitalizing the stock market so that ordinary citizens could receive regular dividend income from their investments. He accused the previous administration of undermining democracy and the constitutional order, presenting his own election as the beginning of a new political era. His consistently strong approval ratings seemed to validate that image.
However, public expectations have a way of colliding with political reality.
The political atmosphere changed rapidly after the local elections. Lee’s ruling party failed to achieve the results it had anticipated, and the outcome of the Seoul mayoral election sent unmistakable signals that public sentiment was beginning to shift. Matters became even more complicated when controversy erupted over failures in election administration, fueling widespread public distrust and anger, particularly among younger voters. Internal divisions within the ruling camp also became increasingly difficult to conceal.
Many analysts argue that the recent decline in Lee’s approval ratings is more than an ordinary fluctuation. The exceptionally high ratings recorded immediately after his inauguration reflected not only support for the new administration but also the political atmosphere created by the impeachment of the previous president. As the initial political benefits gradually fade, the administration is beginning to face a more sober public judgment.
What changed? The answer lies not in any single event.
From the beginning, this administration carried a heavier political burden than most of its predecessors. It came to power after condemning the previous administration as a force that had betrayed democracy itself. By portraying itself as a fundamental break with the past, it also set a much higher standard for itself. The disappointment therefore arrived almost as quickly as the expectations. Ultimately, people judge governments less by speeches than by the realities of everyday life.
A rising stock market did not necessarily translate into a better life for ordinary families. Some investors benefited from soaring asset prices, but many younger Koreans could not afford to buy the very stocks they were encouraged to celebrate. Wages struggle to keep pace with rising living costs. Housing has become even less affordable, while rent and everyday expenses continue to weigh heavily on household budgets.
The administration repeatedly held up the strength of the stock market as evidence that the economy was moving in the right direction. As criticism grew that the gains were benefiting only a limited segment of society, the president acknowledged concerns that many young people were being left behind by widening disparities in the stock market. By then, however, many citizens were no longer persuaded by such remarks. They had begun to question whether the administration was responding to economic realities or merely reacting to mounting public criticism.
That was the moment when the gap between official rhetoric and everyday reality became increasingly difficult to ignore. The government cited encouraging economic indicators, while many households measure the economy by rent, grocery bills and the monthly struggle to make ends meet. Once that gap widened, official optimism no longer resonated with citizens whose daily lives told a different story.
Politics soon exposed the same disconnect. Having assumed the moral authority to restore democratic legitimacy, the administration inevitably invited the public to judge it by a far higher standard. The unprecedented failures in election administration during the recent local elections became politically devastating. For many citizens, the issue was no longer simply administrative incompetence. Confidence in the electoral process itself had been shaken. A government that claims its legitimacy from defending constitutional democracy is naturally expected to respond with exceptional determination when that confidence comes under question.
Before the local elections, Lee warned that failing to vote could allow “inferior people” to govern. Why did many citizens come away with the impression that the government’s response was marked more by caution than by the urgency it had so often demanded of others?
Is this merely another political controversy? Or is Korean politics approaching another important turning point?
Since democratization, the Korean presidency has become one of the great paradoxes of Korean politics. No office carries greater constitutional authority — or proved more politically fragile. Korean politics has repeatedly shown that once public trust begins to erode, even a powerful presidency can quickly weaken. A constitutionally guaranteed five-year term no longer guarantees political survival. This is the reality Lee now confronts.
Lee survived one political and legal crisis after another on his long road to the presidency. However, political survival and governing are fundamentally different. The instincts that help a politician survive prolonged political conflict can become liabilities once they assume responsibility for governing an entire nation.
Once citizens begin to see policies, appointments and even political compromises through the lens of political survival rather than the national interest, trust becomes extraordinarily difficult to rebuild. At that point, explanations lose much of their persuasive force. Political power may win a presidency. Only public trust can sustain one. Politics can survive on partisan loyalty, but governance cannot. Once citizens lose confidence that tomorrow will be better than today, public opinion can shift with remarkable speed.
The tragedies suffered by many Korean presidents did not begin because they lacked power. Their downfalls began when they believed that the political instincts that had brought them to office would also keep them there.
In a recent interview with The Economist, Lee himself referenced the tragic fate of so many Korean presidents. If he truly believes that history offers a warning, then the greatest danger does not come from the opposition or from the media. It comes from believing that the political instincts which enabled him to survive until now will continue to keep him safe.
Park Jung-won (park_jungwon@hotmail.com), Ph.D. in law from the London School of Economics (LSE), is a professor of international law at Dankook University.