South Korea’s Breakaway Third Parties Fail to Set Up Their ‘Big Tent’

South Korea has had a de facto two-party system since democratization. As of late 2023, the country’s two largest parties, the ruling People Power Party (PPP) and the opposition Democratic Party (DP), made up 93 percent of the 300 seats in the National Assembly. In the absence of the need for compromise and coalition with minor players, the PPP and the DP have obsessed over intra-party control and persecution of each other.

Since May 2022, when President Yoon Suk-yeol started his term, South Korean politics has been a farce. The government is guilty of pulling strings with the Prosecutor’s Office in an attempt to jail the DP leader, Lee Jae-myung, gag the press, and shield the president and his family from allegations of malfeasance. Meanwhile, the DP is taking advantage of its parliamentary majority and using the threat of impeachment to disrupt Yoon’s Cabinet, while also passing laws to elect special counsels to investigate the Yoon administration and his family (all of which Yoon vetoed).

To say that South Korean politics has been at a standstill would be overly generous. Instead, it has been sinking into the swamp of pseudo-dictatorship and unchecked elitism.

In January 2024, however, things began to stir when Lee Jun-seok, the PPP’s former chief shoved out of his post by Yoon, formed his own party, the New Reform Party. Lee Nak-yon, a former prime minister and an influential household name in the leftist camp, broke away from the DP and created the New Future Party.

In early February, the two Lees agreed to merge their parties and act as a “Big Tent” to incorporate a broad spectrum of supporters, especially those disillusioned by the irresponsibility of the PPP and the DP.

Yet the sense of optimism died down quickly. On February 19, shouts were heard from within the two Lees’ leadership committee meeting. Soon, Lee Nak-yon bolted out of the room. Lee Jun-seok insisted on making decisions on campaign policies all by himself, citing the lack of time remaining until the April elections, the need for efficiency, and his track record of winning unfavorable elections. Lee Nak-yon countered that the other Lee’s intention reeked of dictatorship. After Lee Nak-yon and his aides left the meeting, Lee Jun-seok and the remaining members passed a party rule investing the younger Lee with all the rights over campaign policies.

Their parties officially parted ways the next day.

Now purged of liberal elements within his New Reform Party, Lee Jun-seok came crawling back to old supporters who had ditched his party out of hostility against the older Lee. The party rules bar the re-entry of defectors for a year, but Lee passed another rule on January 21 that allows for instant reinstatement of party membership.

His spokeswoman apologized to Lee’s former fan base for not giving them enough explanations for having had to accommodate Lee Nak-yon. “We would be grateful for the return of those who left our party because they were angry,” she added.

Shortly after, as if self-conscious of public accusations of his unilateralism, Lee Jun-seok hired an octogenarian campaign guru and entrusted him with recommending candidates and directing campaign policies.

Of late, another major front has developed. Cho Kuk, a former justice minister under former liberal President Moon Jae-in, announced his plan to create a new leftist party on February 13. A flurry of excitement has arisen on the part of many liberals disappointed by the DP and desperately looking for an alternative – Lee Nak-yon was that alternative until he held hands with Lee Jun-seok in what many believed to be an appalling display of opportunism. In a recent poll, almost 14 percent of South Koreans said they would vote for Cho’s new party.

Cho has a hardcore support base thanks to his stints as a senior secretary and then justice minister under Moon. He fought to reform the Prosecutor’s Office and curtail its distended political power, but prosecutors retaliated by successfully digging up dirt on him and his family. Cho had padded his children’s CVs while his wife doctored an award to facilitate their daughter’s college entrance. Amid the scandal, Cho resigned as justice minister in October 2019, just one month into his new position.

In December 2020, Cho’s wife was sentenced to four years in prison for college admission fraud and illicit stock investment. She was released on parole last September. Cho has publicly apologized for the wrongdoing numerous times and is still fighting other charges (some valid, others trumped up) brought on by the prosecutors.

Based on both his past politics and, now, his personal experience, Cho has pledged to fight to eradicate the prosecutorial branch’s corrupt practices of “targeted investigations” and “praying-for-rain investigations.” The Prosecutor’s Office has long been engaged in eliminating political enemies. They scour their targets first without much cause and “pray for rain to drop,” a euphemism for the prosecutors' fondness for investigating first, expecting damning materials to appear, and then deciding what to charge the target with.

Most liberals are concerned that Cho is merely widening the breaches within different leftist factions, thereby weakening the DP’s mandate. He reassured them with his promise to support the DP in the parliament, while focusing entirely on bringing justice to the Yoon administration’s “prosecutorial dictatorship.”

Approval ratings of the PPP and the DP have been wallowing in the 30-something point range. Barring any major scandals and depending on the voter turnout, the new third parties will perhaps garner around 20 percent, at the least, and 30 percent, at the most, of the votes. Taking into account the Green Justice Party and unaffiliated candidates, that suggests that neither the PPP nor the DP can secure a majority by themselves.

Throughout 2024, we will have ample opportunities to see whether the National Assembly becomes messier or not.