ED Jang Dong-hyeok cannot ignore verdict of voters forever

People Power Party leader Jang Dong-hyeok holds a press conference at the National Assembly in Seoul, June 7, to address the shortage of ballots for the June 3 local elections. (Yonhap)

The verdict delivered by voters in Korea’s local elections was unmistakable. The People Power Party (PPP) suffered a crushing setback, winning only four of the nation’s 16 metropolitan mayoral and gubernatorial contests after having captured 12 in the previous local elections.

While the party narrowly retained the Seoul mayoralty and gained ground in a handful of parliamentary by-elections, these isolated successes cannot obscure the larger reality: The electorate issued a stern rebuke to a party leadership that has consistently refused to confront its own failures.

At the center of that rejection stands PPP leader Jang Dong-hyeok.

The election was widely seen as a referendum on the party’s conduct following the Dec. 3, 2024, martial law crisis and the subsequent impeachment of former President Yoon Suk Yeol. Rather than engaging in meaningful reflection or pursuing genuine reform, Jang chose to preserve and defend the political forces that had brought the conservative movement to its lowest point in decades. Voters responded accordingly.

Yet instead of acknowledging the scale of the defeat, Jang and his allies sought refuge in self-congratulation. Party leaders described the outcome as evidence that voters desired “checks and balances” and claimed that the PPP had managed to preserve “a spark of hope.” Such assessments are not merely detached from reality — they demonstrate a troubling unwillingness to listen to the electorate.

The facts tell a different story. Outside its traditional strongholds in the Gyeongsang provinces, the PPP was routed across much of the country. Its losses were neither accidental nor attributable to temporary political headwinds. They were the predictable consequence of a leadership that ignored repeated warnings from both the public and its own supporters.

Jang’s greatest failure was his refusal to draw a clear line between the party and the political legacy of Yoon. While paying occasional lip service to reform, he continued to elevate figures associated with the “Yoon Again” faction, tolerate conspiracy theories regarding election integrity and marginalize voices calling for change. Individuals who defended anti-democratic actions or opposed constitutional accountability remained welcome within the party, while critics were sidelined or excluded.

Such choices carried a political cost. A party that appears unwilling to defend constitutional norms cannot reasonably expect voters to entrust it with greater power.

Perhaps the clearest evidence of Jang’s liability is that many of the PPP’s electoral bright spots came from candidates who deliberately distanced themselves from him. Seoul Mayor Oh Se-hoon publicly demanded a break with Yoon’s political legacy and largely conducted his campaign independently of the party leadership. Successful conservative candidates in parliamentary by-elections likewise avoided making Jang a prominent part of their campaigns. Their victories demonstrated that voters had not rejected conservatism itself; rather, they had rejected a particular brand of conservatism associated with denial, factionalism and political nostalgia.

The message from the electorate was nuanced but unmistakable. Voters punished a governing party they viewed as arrogant, but they also rejected an opposition leadership that had failed to learn from its own mistakes. At the same time, they signaled a willingness to support moderate and pragmatic conservatives capable of reforming themselves.

Jang appears determined to ignore that message.

Facing growing calls from within his party to step aside, he has instead insisted that he will remain in office to “find a new path.” More recently, discussions of internal reorganization and possible party-wide electoral processes have emerged. To many observers, however, these proposals look less like serious efforts at reform than attempts to deflect pressure for his resignation and prolong his political survival.

That would be a grave mistake.

In democratic politics, electoral defeat is not dishonorable. Refusing to accept responsibility for it is. Leaders earn legitimacy not only through victory but also through accountability when they fail. By his own standards, Jang’s position has become difficult to defend. Before the election, he declared that his political future depended on the outcomes in Seoul and Busan. The PPP lost Busan. Seoul was retained largely because its victorious candidate chose to keep his distance from the party leadership. The conclusion is difficult to avoid.

The longer Jang clings to office, the greater the damage he risks inflicting — not merely upon himself but upon the broader conservative movement. Korea needs a healthy and responsible conservative party capable of competing for power within the framework of constitutional democracy. Such a party cannot be rebuilt while it remains captive to the very forces that led to its decline.

The choice before him is straightforward. He can heed the electorate’s warning and allow his party to begin the process of rebuilding. Or he can continue to resist, becoming ever more diminished in the process. The longer he chooses the latter course, the less dignified his position will become — and the greater his responsibility for obstructing the healthy development of both his party and Korean democracy.