Seoul, South Korea – October 17, 2025 – In a development that underscores the ongoing political and legal turmoil gripping South Korea, former President Yoon Suk Yeol on Friday skipped a crucial hearing in his trial on martial law-related charges, citing health concerns, according to reports from Yonhap News Agency. The absence, which marks the second time Yoon has failed to appear since the trial's inception last month, has drawn sharp criticism from prosecutors and raised questions about the former leader's strategy in the face of mounting legal pressures. The Seoul Central District Court proceeded with the session regardless, underscoring the judiciary's determination to advance the proceedings despite Yoon's non-attendance.
The hearing, held at the imposing Seoul Central District Court in the capital's Seocho district, focused on allegations that Yoon violated the rights of Cabinet members, improperly revised the martial law proclamation, and obstructed his own detention by investigators earlier this year. Prosecutors from the special counsel team, led by investigator Cho Eun-suk, presented evidence including witness testimonies from former presidential aides and military officials. The bench, comprising three judges, noted that Yoon's legal team had submitted a medical certificate claiming "dizziness and nausea" as reasons for his absence, but deemed the excuse insufficient under Article 277-2 of the Criminal Procedure Act. This provision allows trials to continue without a defendant's physical presence if compelling attendance is deemed "impossible or significantly difficult," particularly for detained individuals like Yoon, who is currently held at the Seoul Detention Center in Uiwang, south of the city.
Yoon's lawyer, Bae Bo-yoon, argued during a pre-hearing submission that the former president's health had deteriorated since his last court appearance on September 26, when he attended the trial's opening session – his first public outing in 85 days. "The defendant is suffering from chronic conditions exacerbated by the stress of prolonged detention," Bae stated in a press release. However, the court rejected a request for a postponement, emphasizing the case's gravity and the public's right to timely justice. Special counsel representatives countered that Yoon's pattern of absences – now extending to 13 consecutive sessions in a parallel insurrection trial – suggested a deliberate tactic to delay proceedings. "This is not mere illness; it's obstruction," one prosecutor remarked off the record to reporters outside the courthouse.
This latest no-show is part of a broader saga that has captivated and divided South Korea since Yoon's dramatic declaration of emergency martial law on December 3, 2024. At 10:27 p.m. KST, in a surprise televised address, the then-sitting president accused the opposition-led National Assembly of harboring "anti-state forces" sympathetic to North Korea and engaging in a "legislative dictatorship" that threatened the nation's democracy. Yoon, a hardline conservative and former prosecutor general who assumed office in May 2022 after a narrow victory over liberal candidate Lee Jae-myung, claimed the move was necessary to "eradicate communist elements" and restore order amid parliamentary gridlock. His administration had faced relentless opposition: the Democratic Party (DPK), holding a supermajority of 170 seats in the 300-member Assembly following the April 2024 elections, had impeached 22 of Yoon's appointees, blocked his budget proposals, and pursued investigations into scandals involving his wife, First Lady Kim Keon-hee.
The decree's fallout was swift and chaotic. It banned political activities, shuttered media outlets, and ordered troops to surround the National Assembly, evoking painful memories of the military dictatorships under Park Chung-hee and Chun Doo-hwan in the 1970s and 1980s. Hundreds of soldiers from the Presidential Security Service and special forces units arrived at the legislature around midnight, armed with rifles and attempting to seal off entrances. Lawmakers, however, defied the order: 190 of 300 Assembly members – a bipartisan coalition including defectors from Yoon's own People Power Party (PPP) – breached barricades using fire extinguishers and human chains to vote unanimously against the declaration just six hours later. Protests erupted nationwide, with tens of thousands gathering in Seoul's Gwanghwamun Square under freezing temperatures, chanting "Arrest Yoon!" and waving candles in a nod to the 2016-2017 protests that ousted Yoon's predecessor, Park Geun-hye.
Yoon rescinded the order at dawn on December 4, but the damage was irreparable. Public approval for his administration plummeted to 17%, according to Realmeter polls, fueling an impeachment motion passed by the Assembly on December 14, 2024, by a vote of 204-85. Yoon was suspended from office, becoming only the second president in South Korean history to face such ouster after Park in 2017. The Constitutional Court, in a unanimous 8-0 decision on April 4, 2025, upheld the impeachment, formally removing him and triggering a snap presidential election won by DPK leader Lee Jae-myung in May. The ruling stripped Yoon of presidential immunity under Article 84 of the Constitution, paving the way for criminal probes.
Legal repercussions followed rapidly. On January 15, 2025, anti-corruption investigators from the Corruption Investigation Office for High-ranking Officials (CIO) attempted to arrest Yoon at the presidential residence, sparking a six-hour standoff with his security detail. He was indicted on January 26 for leading an insurrection – a charge carrying potential life imprisonment or the death penalty, though capital punishment has not been enforced since 1997. The insurrection trial, which began on February 20, 2025, accuses Yoon of orchestrating a coup by deploying troops to block lawmakers and falsifying orders to justify the decree. Key evidence includes testimonies from former Defense Minister Kim Yong-hyun, who alleged Yoon instructed him to "break down doors" at the Assembly, and recordings of military communications revealing plans to detain opposition figures.
Yoon has vehemently denied wrongdoing, framing the martial law bid as a legitimate "act of governance" to counter "pro-North Korean sympathizers" in the DPK. During his first criminal hearing on April 14, 2025, he spoke for over 90 minutes, insisting, "I never ordered violence against the Assembly; it was a defensive measure against parliamentary overreach." His defense team, including prominent figures like Yun Gap-geun and Bae Jin-han, has challenged the trial's jurisdiction, arguing it constitutes "political persecution" by the Lee administration. They point to procedural flaws, such as the CIO's alleged overreach in securing arrest warrants, and have filed multiple appeals for bail – all denied, most recently on October 2, when the court cited flight risk and evidence tampering concerns.
The parallel martial law trial, which opened on September 26, 2025, stems from a special counsel investigation appointed by President Lee in June. It alleges Yoon abused power by selectively convening only loyal Cabinet members for the decree's approval, revised the proclamation post-facto to downplay military involvement, and resisted detention in January by barricading himself with armed guards. Conviction here could add over three years to any sentence. Yoon attended the inaugural hearing, appearing gaunt and gray-haired, and pleaded not guilty across the board. "These are fabricated charges to delegitimize my presidency," he told the court. Since then, his absences have piled up: he missed the October 10 session entirely, prompting prosecutors to request forcible transport warrants, which the detention center has cited as logistically challenging due to his "fragile" condition.
Health has become a flashpoint. Yoon's team claims post-arrest stress has worsened pre-existing issues like hypertension and insomnia, supported by medical notes from prison doctors. Critics, including DPK lawmakers, dismiss this as "performative," noting Yoon's voluntary appearance before investigators on October 15 to avoid a forced summons. On X (formerly Twitter), reactions range from conservative supporters decrying "judicial bias" – with posts like one from @HuntingEgle on October 2 lamenting the bail denial as evidence of "vested interests" – to liberals mocking his excuses. A viral thread from @monarchreport25 highlighted perceived hypocrisies in the new government's appointees, fueling debates on accountability.
The trials' broader implications extend beyond Yoon. They have exposed deep fissures in South Korea's democracy, with approval for the Lee administration dipping to 45% amid economic slowdowns and North Korean provocations. Internationally, the U.S. has expressed "concern" over the instability, particularly as Yoon's decree referenced fabricated threats from Pyongyang to justify troop movements. Analysts like those at the Center for Strategic and International Studies warn that prolonged uncertainty could weaken Seoul's alliances, especially with ongoing U.S.-South Korea military drills. Domestically, the cases have spurred reforms: President Lee proposed abolishing prosecutorial powers in September, drawing ire from conservatives who see it as revenge against Yoon's anti-corruption legacy.
Witness testimonies in the insurrection trial have been damning. On August 28, 2025, former Army Chief of Staff Park An-su detailed how Yoon allegedly ordered drone deployments near the DMZ to provoke North Korean responses, fabricating a casus belli. In the martial law case, Presidential Security Service members testified last week about being instructed to "secure" the Blue House against imaginary threats. Yoon's co-defendants, including ex-Defense Minister Kim and several generals, face similar charges; Kim was indicted in May 2025 for bribery tied to martial law promotions.
As proceedings grind on – with the insurrection trial now broadcast online for the first time since October 2 – Yoon's fate hangs in the balance. Legal experts predict a verdict by mid-2026, potentially making him the third post-war leader convicted of insurrection after Chun and Roh Tae-woo in the 1990s. For now, the man who once vowed to "uproot corruption" remains confined, his absences a stark symbol of a presidency undone by its own ambitions. South Koreans, scarred by echoes of authoritarian pasts, watch warily, hoping justice prevails without fracturing their young democracy further.
