Everyone wants to be the judge in their own case

Audio report: written by reporters, read by AI

Chung Hyo-shik

The author is the social news editor at the JoongAng Ilbo.

Everyone wants to be the judge in their own case. That is precisely why no one can be. A fair courtroom cannot exist if either the plaintiff or defendant also serves as the judge. One side will inevitably feel wronged, and the constitutional principle of equality before the law collapses. That is the fundamental limit imposed by the rule of law. Yet political power, by its nature, repeatedly seeks to push beyond such limits.

The ruling Democratic Party bloc led by Jung Chung-rae appears emboldened by its expected victory in the June 3 local elections as it pushes forward a special counsel bill that would allow the withdrawal of indictments in cases involving President Lee Jae Myung and his close associates, including Jeong Jin-sang and Kim Yong. Meanwhile, the opposition People Power Party has failed to establish itself as an effective counterweight within the legislature. Even with elections approaching one year and seven months after the failed Dec. 3, 2024, martial law declaration, the conservative camp remains trapped in what critics call the lingering ghost of “Yoon Again.” The opposition’s prospects appear dim as it struggles to rebuild itself into a viable alternative force.

Judicial checks on the ruling party’s legislative drive, carried out with the apparent sympathy of the presidential office, have also weakened considerably. On May 4, senior presidential secretary Hong Ik-pyo signaled a possible adjustment in the pace of the special counsel legislation while emphasizing that “a national consensus has formed.” Earlier, when the so-called three judicial reform bills passed through the National Assembly and Cabinet meeting, there was little meaningful resistance from the judiciary itself.

Even current and former heads of the Constitutional Court, traditionally regarded as the final constitutional safeguard, reversed decades-long positions to support the measures. If the ruling bloc accelerates passage of the special counsel bill after the local elections, few constitutional institutions may remain capable of stopping it.

The bill itself reveals an unmistakable intention not merely to investigate allegations of prosecutorial misconduct during the Yoon Suk Yeol administration, but to halt ongoing trials involving the Daejang-dong development scandal, alleged illegal remittances to North Korea and election law violations. Article 6, Clause 1 of the bill grants special prosecutors authority over decisions regarding whether indictments should be maintained or withdrawn. Clause 2 further allows those powers to be delegated to assistant special prosecutors or attorneys appointed to maintain prosecutions.

The legislation even permits lawyers selected by the special counsel to withdraw indictments. Multiple layers of authority were intentionally built into the structure. Critics argue that this effectively neutralizes judicial authority, one of the Constitution’s three branches of power, and therefore constitutes an unconstitutional provision.

The contradiction is striking. While arguing that concentrated prosecutorial authority is the root of many problems and moving to abolish the prosecution service for the first time in Korea’s constitutional history, the government is simultaneously granting extraordinary powers to special counsels. Those powers include investigative and prosecutorial authority, plea bargaining benefits such as immunity for whistle-blowers and even the ability to terminate prosecutions already before the courts.

Even progressive groups such as the Justice Party and the Citizens’ Coalition for Economic Justice have criticized provisions they say undermine judicial independence. Questions have also emerged over whether a massive special counsel investigation is truly necessary to examine allegations such as the so-called salmon and liquor party scandal. Existing institutions, including the Corruption Investigation Office for High-ranking Officials or the new Major Crimes Investigation Office scheduled to launch in October, could handle such matters.

The use of special counsels since the current administration took office has already exceeded reasonable limits. Special counsels were originally intended as temporary and exceptional mechanisms. If the indictment withdrawal special counsel is launched, it would become the sixth such investigation under the current administration, following probes into insurrection allegations, Kim Keon Hee, the death of a marine corporal, the “government bond strip” case and the second comprehensive special counsel investigation.

At this pace, special counsels may operate throughout the government’s entire five-year term. Prosecutors are being reassigned in large numbers, leaving ordinary cases severely delayed. In some offices, individual prosecutors reportedly face backlogs of up to 500 unresolved cases. Delays throughout the judicial process — from investigation and indictment to final rulings under the proposed four-tier appeals system — continue to grow.

The judiciary should serve as the institution that swiftly remedies violations of citizens’ rights and resolves social conflict. Yet recent legislation risks turning the justice system itself into a source of political conflict. The indictment withdrawal special counsel bill represents the culmination of efforts to transform the judiciary into a political instrument.

Once power crosses a legal line, the next boundary becomes easier to ignore. Future leaders may feel tempted to go even further, weakening the rule of law while pursuing prolonged rule through formally legal procedures such as constitutional revision. History offers many such precedents, both in Korea and abroad.

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.