Both Yuk Young-soo and Roh Moo-hyun cases deserve reinvestigation

Choi Min-woo

The author is the editor of political, international, foreign and security news at the JoongAng Ilbo. 

Defenders of “The Assassin(s),” the film facing criticism over its portrayal of the death of former first lady Yuk Young-soo, frequently invoke Oliver Stone’s “JFK” (1991).

Stone’s film explores forces allegedly behind President John F. Kennedy’s 1963 assassination that official investigations overlooked. Conspiracy theories were inevitable: Lee Harvey Oswald, Kennedy’s alleged assassin, was himself shot dead while being transferred three days after his arrest, leaving many questions unanswered.

“JFK” heightened the mystery by adding fictional characters and delving into theories about bullet trajectories. Despite accusations of distortion, it won Academy Awards for cinematography and editing.

Its defenders argue that Americans reward conspiracy fiction while Koreans condemn it.

But there is a crucial difference.

“JFK” explicitly identifies the alleged conspirators through prosecutor Jim Garrison’s closing argument, delivered by actor Kevin Costner.

Kennedy wanted to withdraw from Vietnam, Garrison argues, bringing him into conflict with defense contractors and military authorities profiting from the war. His assassination was therefore not an isolated murder but a coup against democracy intended to reverse national policy.

Stone surely understood how speculative this argument was. Nevertheless, he presented it openly, taking responsibility for his conspiracy theory.

“The Assassin(s),” by contrast, strongly implies that South Korea’s intelligence agency or former President Park Chung Hee orchestrated his wife Yuk’s murder.

Lines questioning whether Yuk, rather than Park, was the intended target suggest an inside conspiracy. Yet the film leaves those responsible deliberately ambiguous.

Critics consequently accuse its creators of retreating when their argument demands accountability.

At the conclusion of “JFK,” captions explain that a congressional investigation found a “probable conspiracy” in 1978 but that relevant records would remain sealed until 2029.

Public pressure intensified, and the U.S. Congress subsequently passed the JFK Records Act in 1992, opening millions of pages of CIA and FBI documents.

The official conclusions remained unchanged. Nevertheless, the film established an important precedent: Suspicions need not be accepted as truth, but they should be open to examination.

The same principle could apply to Yuk’s assassination.

Questions persist about the bullet’s trajectory, the absence of an autopsy that might have clarified the evidence and shooter Mun Se-gwang’s ability to enter the event without proper credentials.

Had “The Assassin(s)” investigated these uncertainties seriously, it might have prompted an official fact-finding commission in a society accustomed to revisiting historical controversies.

Instead, the film connects unrelated incidents and resorts to melodrama, inviting accusations that it seeks to promote a predetermined conclusion rather than establish the truth.

Now another controversy has emerged, this time concerning former President Roh Moo-hyun.

On Oct. 1, lawmaker Han Dong-hoon asserted that then-President Roh or his family had illegally received a Piaget watch worth 300 million won (around $260,000 at the time) and tens of billions of won in other payments.

Roh’s son-in-law, lawmaker Kwak Sang-eon, challenged Han to produce evidence, prompting objections from the ruling camp.

The dispute has become another confrontation over competing claims of truth.

Seventeen years have passed since Roh took his own life in 2009, ending an investigation by prosecutors into his financial affairs that ended without indictment.

Perhaps it is time to review the circumstances surrounding his death calmly and comprehensively.

Such an examination should address not only whether Roh or his family accepted money or valuables but also whether prosecutors conducted an excessive investigation.

It should also establish whether senior officials in the former Lee Myung-bak administration influenced the investigation.

These questions deserve examination through documentary evidence rather than political accusations. Respect for the deceased should not mean placing historical events beyond scrutiny. Indeed, genuine respect requires an accurate account of what happened. Suppressing unresolved questions merely encourages conspiracy theories to flourish.

Both Yuk’s assassination and Roh’s death remain politically sensitive. However, sensitivity cannot justify avoiding legitimate historical inquiry. A renewed investigation must distinguish established facts from speculation and examine evidence without assuming its conclusions in advance. Neither cinematic imagination nor partisan loyalty can serve as a substitute for credible findings.

Roh Moo-hyun, the former president, should finally be treated not as a political myth but as a figure of history.