The Prosecutors’ Office, which has held both indictment and investigative powers for more than 70 years, will disappear in October. A prosecution flag flies outside the Supreme Prosecutors’ Office in Seocho District, southern Seoul, in November last year.KIM JONG-HO
Ko Jung-ae
The author is the editor-in-chief at the JoongAng Sunday.
A prosecutor who said, “I never imagined being a prosecutor who does not investigate,” recently resigned. That reminded me of another prosecutor who submitted his resignation, then withdrew it to continue an investigation.
That prosecutor is Seo Hyun-wook of the Changwon Branch of the Busan High Prosecutors’ Office, a 35th-class graduate of the Judicial Research and Training Institute. He has been labeled part of the “Yoon Suk Yeol division.” He served on the confirmation-hearing preparation team for then-Prosecutor General Yoon Suk Yeol and handled the case involving allegations that underwear maker Ssangbangwool illegally transferred of millions of won to North Korea in 2019, allegedly at the request of President Lee Jae Myung when he was mayor of the Gyeonggi city of Seongnam, in exchange for promised support for the company’s future inter-Korean business projects and to help facilitate Lee’s planned visit to Pyongyang.
Seo is also facing disciplinary proceedings over a trial of former Gyeonggi Vice Gov. Lee Hwa-young in November of last year related to the remittance case. Prosecutors indicated they would seek the judges’ recusal and walked out. Seo had told a trial prosecutor that they should consider seeking recusal, though he says that view was never relayed to senior officials.
Seo offered to resign in January. A month later, however, the Supreme Prosecutors’ Office said it was conducting a fact-finding inquiry, halting the resignation process.
Then he encountered another case: an alleged cyanide murder that ended in acquittal.
In 2019, a man with assets worth 80 billion won died in a traffic accident. Cyanide was detected in his blood, indicating murder rather than an accidental death. His prospective daughter-in-law was indicted, but the court acquitted her for insufficient evidence. A water bottle believed to have contained cyanide disappeared, while a plastic bag bearing the defendant’s DNA was ruled inadmissible. The court also noted that, as a prospective daughter-in-law, she had no legal inheritance rights and therefore no direct financial gain.
After the first appellate hearing, Seo withdrew his resignation. He reportedly said uncovering the truth in the case was his final calling as a prosecutor and that he would resign afterward. He requested supplementary investigations three times and says he found a new witness.
I called him.
“What happens next?”
“On Sept. 30, the court will decide whether to admit the evidence. Witness questioning comes afterward. The defendant says she has never worked with cyanide, but we will prove otherwise.”
“Why was the DNA evidence unusable?”
“When police conducted the search, they arrived without plastic gloves and asked for some at the scene. The defendant brought them. She appears to have touched several. Her DNA was found on the plastic bag wrapping the cyanide, but police wore gloves she supplied when removing the bag from a container. Courts reject evidence if there is even a possibility of contamination, so I don’t think we can argue for its admissibility.”
Seo said substantial new evidence had been prepared and the case was worth pursuing. Yet he recently heard he could face discipline for “not expressing an intention to resign.” He delayed leaving for the trial, only to face discipline for not leaving. It was black comedy.
I recount Seo’s story at length to make a point: Prosecutors, even those carrying political labels, also handle ordinary crimes. They can feel a calling to uncover the truth and supplement what police investigations miss. It is often said that ordinary cases account for 90 to 95 percent of a typical prosecutor’s work in practice.
Nine days from now, the Prosecutors’ Office will disappear. President Lee Jae Myung recently said prosecutors would be completely barred from investigations and that follow-up measures would make their return to investigative work irreversible.
The Democratic Party (DP) has steadily reduced prosecutors’ investigative authority under the banner of prosecution reform. Former DP Rep. Keum Tae-sup argued that the prosecution’s problems stemmed from wielding both sweeping investigative powers, through special investigation units, and indictment authority. A core remedy was available: reduce direct investigations and abolish those units. Instead came the Corruption Investigation Office for High-ranking Officials (CIO). Now the Serious Crimes Investigation Agency and Prosecution Service will be added.
Given the CIO’s poor record, I question whether the new agencies will function properly. Neither even has a chief yet. Those still called “prosecutors,” but tasked with prosecutions at the new Prosecution Service, will they be able to contribute as prosecutors once did?
An era of prosecutors who cannot investigate genuinely frightens me.
This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.