Does Korea need midterm elections?
Single presidential tenure with National Assembly election on its own calendar makes midterm assessment more difficult
The 2026 U.S. midterm elections delivered a sweeping rebuke to President Donald Trump. Democrats won control of both chambers of Congress, flipping Senate seats even in Republican strongholds such as Texas, Kansas and South Carolina. The night also brought historic firsts such as the first Muslim and the first openly gay man elected to the U.S. Senate.
Voters were passing judgment on Trump’s performance. Many blamed his policies for the high cost of living. The Iran war added to their frustration, through higher fuel prices and doubts about the decision to enter the conflict. Aggressive immigration enforcement was another visible and divisive part of his agenda. No single issue explains the result, but the election gave Americans a chance to voice their discontent and to change who controls Congress.
Watching the results from New York, I found myself thinking about how differently Korea delivered its own verdict on a president not long ago. When then-President Yoon Suk Yeol declared martial law in December 2024, citizens rushed to the National Assembly as lawmakers moved swiftly to reject the order. Months of powerful yet peaceful mass protests followed, and Yoon was ultimately removed from office.
Of course, the two cases are not equivalent. One was an extraordinary effort to defend constitutional government from an immediate threat. The other was a routine election that shifted the balance of power. But together they show that democratic resilience takes different forms: citizens filling a public square, legislators refusing an unlawful order, voters using the ballot box to constrain a government. Democracies need more than one way for people to hold power to account.
Protest is an essential democratic right. When institutions are under threat, public assembly shows that people will not accept the erosion of their rights in silence. But protest cannot carry the whole burden of accountability. The U.S. midterm elections matter because they give citizens a regular, consequential opportunity to judge a government while it is still in office. It is not simply a date on the calendar; it is a constitutional choice about when the public gets its say.
Korea has regular elections that can serve as midterm tests, but no guaranteed presidential midterm. Because the presidential term is a single, nonrenewable five years and the National Assembly term is four, general elections fall at a different point in each presidency. In April 2024, about two years into Yoon’s term, voters handed the opposition a landslide, a midterm rebuke in all but name.
Under President Lee Jae Myung, the next general election will not come until April 2028, three years into his term. This June’s elections offered voters an early chance to assess Lee’s administration, but they came just one year into his presidency and were shaped mostly by local candidates and concerns, even when national politics loomed large. Korea’s check exists, but its timing is left to the arithmetic of the calendar.
Lee has advocated a constitutional amendment to introduce a U.S.-style, four-year presidency with the possibility of a second term, arguing that it would allow a “midterm evaluation” of the administration. A renewable term would give voters a chance to approve or reject a president at the next presidential election. But that election would come at the end of a term, not halfway through it.
To create a guaranteed midterm check, Korea would also need to arrange for a separate election — most plausibly a National Assembly election — to fall at a defined point during the presidential term. Together, these changes could strengthen accountability. An incumbent seeking reelection would have to win voters’ approval again, and a scheduled election during the term would give the public an earlier chance to reward or rebuke the government. That might make presidents more attentive to how their policies affect people. It would also give citizens a peaceful, predictable outlet for frustration.
There are real risks, too. More frequent national campaigning could deepen polarization, encourage short-term decision-making and leave governments in near-permanent election mode. Local contests might become even more dominated by national battles. And constitutional change is no technical fix. It would require approval by at least two-thirds of the National Assembly and a national referendum, as well as durable public consensus about how the new election schedule should work.
Korea does not have to copy the U.S. system to learn from its underlying idea: People should not have to wait until the end of a president’s term to deliver their verdict. Protest, the courts, the National Assembly and elections each serve different purposes. A well-designed midterm could add another democratic check, but no calendar can guarantee accountability on its own.
Korea’s recent history makes the point. In 2024, voters delivered a clear midterm verdict on Yoon. Eight months later, he declared martial law against an opposition-controlled Assembly. This week, even Trump, who never conceded his 2020 loss, said he would accept the midterm results. The value of any midterm depends not only on whether it gives citizens a real choice, but on whether political leaders accept the result.
Min Seong-jae (smin@pace.edu) is a professor of communication and media studies at Pace University in New York.