Han Dong-hoon is a man of many epithets. Since early in his career as a prosecutor, he had had a knack of sniffing out and hounding corporate hotshots. Not for nothing did people call him a “conglomerate sniper” – the chiefs of Samsung, SK, and Hyundai all came into his crosshairs. He then played key roles in locking up two former presidents for corruption (Park Geun-hye in 2017 and Lee Myung-bak in 2018). Han was also dubbed the “viper,” for never slacking in his investigations and seeing to the end of his quarry. Meanwhile, his fellow prosecutors considered him a “prosecution whiz” for his ingenious investigative shticks.
In May 2022, at the age of 49, he became the youngest justice minister in South Korean history. Then, President Yoon Suk-yeol entrusted the justice ministry with personnel background checks and employment verification for his Cabinet. Han also filled in for chief prosecutor’s post, which was vacant for the first few months into Yoon’s presidential term. Murmurs of “second in command” and “junior president” followed him.
That Yoon put Han at the judiciary helm didn’t come as a surprise. Back in the days, they worked together for some of their spectacular investigations. Han had practically been the president’s protégé and right hand, aiding him through thick and thin.
As chief prosecutor in 2019, Yoon was locking horns with former President Moon Jae-in over prosecutorial reform. Unlike in most developed democracies where prosecutors have either limited or no capacity for investigation and rely on inter-agency collaboration that fosters transparency, South Korea’s Prosecution Service wields unrestrained authority over both investigation and indictment. South Korean prosecutors, therefore, have unduly influenced politics by deciding whom to shiv or shield according to their taste and interest. Moon wanted to shave their distended political power, but Yoon – whom Moon himself appointed as chief prosecutor – bristled. So, Han went after the justice minister who was spearheading Moon’s bidding, successfully digging up dirt and halting the reform momentum.
In 2020, a couple of journalists were exposed to have browbeaten a detainee into ratting out pro-Moon figures, and Han’s scent was all over the shenanigans. A fresh round of war raged between the Moon administration and Yoon. The former wanted Han’s head, while the latter obstructed the investigation into his beloved charge. (Han’s name and instructions concerning the scheme appear in text messages between the journalists, and a digital log confirmed that Han exchanged hundreds of texts with one of them. The journalist, however, had wiped out his devices, and prosecutors failed to unlock Han’s impounded phone. The case was dropped.)
The Moon administration demoted Han and suspended Yoon. Livid, Yoon resigned in March 2021 and put himself up for the March 2022 presidential election on the now ruling People Power Party (PPP) ticket. Throughout it all, Yoon-Han bromance had only deepened. Apparently, they used to call each other brothers.
Yoon’s presidency, which kicked off in May 2022, consummated the unchecked power of the prosecutor’s office. Since 1987, when the military dictatorship ended, prosecutors have had nobody to bow to; it has rather been elected officials that walk on eggshells. The prosecutor’s office, by either dropping or tweaking investigations, can save or tank anyone’s life and career. It became more formidable as Yoon packed his administration with his alumni and career prosecutors, Han being his crown jewel. The prosecutorial circle is no longer one of many functionaries of the government, but the government itself.
While Yoon generously rewarded Han’s unwavering loyalty and fraternity with the justice minister nomination, Han had to come to his rescue once more. From the outset, the Yoon administration has been marred by scandal after scandal. (There are too many to list, but some of the highlights are: allegations that Yoon heeds advice on state affairs from a mystic who dabbles in feng shui and prophecy; the Itaewon tragedy; Yoon’s strong-arm intervention to spare a major general from potential indictment over professional negligence that caused a marine’s death; efforts to advance benign narratives of Japanese colonization; the First Lady peddling political favors; and a blatant crackdown on press freedom)
Brushing aside the bungles and sketchy dealings, it has been hard to distinguish Yoon’s ideological standpoints. Even to conservatives, he seemed disinterested in plying the conservative agenda. In all fairness, it shouldn’t have come as a disappointment – his campaign swore to dismantle Moon’s legacy, which was an insinuation that he just wanted to make politics more palatable for prosecutors. His presidency has done just that and excelled at it like no other.
Public opinion duly soured and politics had stagnated as Yoon vetoed major bills passed by the opposition Democratic Party (DP) with its parliamentary majority, and the PPP’s couldn’t take off without the DP’s backing. Talk of Yoon’s impeachment rose. Yoon’s political lifeline, therefore, was attached to the April 2024 general elections.
Rising to the occasion, Han resigned as justice minister and became the PPP’s interim leader in December 2023. He traversed the country, barnstorming and rallying conservative voters. If people had found him distant and even intimidating before – raised in the poshest district in Seoul, with law degrees from Seoul National University, South Korea’s best school, and Columbia, he was the archetypal “elite” – voters quite took to him on the campaign trail. Slender and fair-skinned, he also fit the Korean ideal beauty standard.
“I’ve already had all the success in my life. I have nothing to gain from this,” Han said, insisting that he was campaigning to save the country from the leftist political “cartel” that supposedly monopolized political legitimacy based solely on their pro-democracy movements in the 1980s. Thanks to his unctuous smiles, polite handshakes, and crisp diction, his popularity soared. In one poll from January 2024, he even ranked first in the list of people likely to become the next president. “Conservatives’ messiah,” people concurred.
But the April general elections – both how Han managed the campaign and the disastrous result for the PPP – turned out to be his greatest bane. There’s no doubt that his end goal was to protect Yoon. However, the only way to save Yoon was to win more PPP seats, and the only way to do that was to distance the party from the president and show the public that it was sane enough to admonish him.
In January 2024, Han incurred Yoon’s ire by saying that the party “should see eye to eye with the public” regarding First Lady Kim Keon-hee’s having received designer goods from an acquaintance for political favors – the infamous Dior pouch controversy. Yoon demanded his resignation. “I will do my job,” Han insisted, refusing to flinch. (Although their spat ended shortly, the incident had other ramifications which have come to dog Han lately. More on that later.)
Then, the PPP was routed at the general elections on April 10. Han’s fall was swift and mortifying. Han resigned right away, promising to return to politics as a better person. PPP members used to defer to and cower before Han, desperately seeking his approval. After the resounding defeat, however, the PPP has been busy faulting and belittling him. That he fell out of Yoon’s favor and was deliberately minimizing contact with the president emboldened those who lost the elections in their attacks against Han.
Despite the wishes of many, Han decided in June to run for the post of PPP party chief in the election to be held at a national convention slated for July 23.
Since April, evidence after evidence has come to light regarding Yoon’s interference with judicial and administrative procedures in the marine case and his wife Kim meddling in politics through personnel recommendations and political favors. The PPP, having finally accepted Yoon’s incorrigibility and watching his approval ratings nosediving, decided that their fate hinges on uncracked solidarity with the presidential office.
Yoon’s impeachment would mean another ignominious fall of the PPP, after which it will take longer for it to revive than in the aftermath of Park Geun-hye’s impeachment in 2016. Ethics took a back seat, and the PPP is up to its neck covering for the president.
Han differs. He suggests that the PPP should accept a special counsel to probe into Yoon’s involvement in the marine case – just not the DP-nominated one but one selected by third parties. Han also wants to bring back an adjunct office within the presidential office to officially oversee the first lady’s conduct.
The PPP bigwigs and legislators gasped. Other candidates for the national convention are ganging up on him. Rhetoric of Han’s betrayal of Yoon has taken the center stage – Han’s nickname is now “the ingrate turncoat.” In the PPP today, openly feuding with Yoon and admitting his culpability are unacceptable.
Han’s most ardent critic is Won Hee-ryong, another contender for the national convention who frequently wonders out loud if Han is secretly a Democrat. A former prosecutor himself, Won aided Yoon’s presidential campaign. Afterwards, Yoon appointed him as the Minister of Land, Infrastructure, and Transport. Won has also been Yoon’s mouthpiece at the PPP conferences. “We shouldn’t elect the same party leader that will clash with the president again,” Won said.
Another flashpoint is Han’s relationship with Kim, the first lady. In January, Han received a string of texts from Kim, the original content of which was leaked in early July. In the messages, she apologized for creating a rift between Yoon and Han over the Dior pouch controversy. “If you deem it right that I apologize to the public, I will follow your advice,” she said. The PPP’s approval rating was suffering at the time from Kim’s long history of unsavory meddling in politics.
When the texts went public, PPP members were outraged for two reasons. First, Han ignored Kim’s messages, which they say was plain rude. Yoon is known to have been furious about the snub, bringing it up repeatedly in conversations with others.
Second, the PPP could have snatched a few more parliamentary seats had Han accepted Kim’s olive branch and made her apologize in public. The narrative of Han’s accountability for the PPP’s defeat in the general elections is gaining more traction.
Yet Han has his own counters. First, it was wrong of Kim to reach out to him about campaign affairs. The government’s or president’s involvement in election campaigns is forbidden, let alone the first lady’s.
Second, Han believes that Yoon and Kim are trying to undermine him in the national convention. Only Han and Kim had those texts in their phones; nobody but them knew of Han’s snubbing. That Kim leaked the whole episode, either through Yoon or someone else and then to the press, indicates another incidence of her political interference.
By all accounts, Han’s tough stance against the president has landed well with the PPP voters, who have found their party’s crouching before Yoon irrational and irritating. Han’s approval rating among PPP voters currently stands at 61 percent; Won is far behind at 14 percent. Han will take over the PPP’s leadership post again for sure.
Han’s calculations are shrewd. Yongsan (synecdoche for Yoon’s presidential office and his administration) faces antagonistic public opinion. Of course, if Yoon goes down, the PPP goes down, too. But if the PPP could demonstrate, through Han’s leadership, that it tried to instill some sense and caution into Yongsan, ramifications on the party of potential impeachment and future investigations can be contained.
At the same time, Han’s sensible tussle with Yongsan is already paving the way for Han’s future presidency. Lately, besides his overwhelming support among the PPP constituents, Han is second only to Lee Jae-myung, Yoon’s archnemesis from the DP, in polls gauging South Koreans’ preferences for the next president. Whether Yoon keeps hating Han’s guts or they patch things up, Han’s succession as president – and the prosecutors’ continued control of politics – is perhaps the only path for Yoon to savor his retirement. Should this be Han’s endgame, Yoon should be thankful.
Although, or precisely because, the other candidates for the PPP national convention stand no chance against Han, no holds are barred in their maligning against him. Their steadfast siding with Yoon while foregoing any meaningful discussion of domestic policies are rather boosting Han’s popularity. Perhaps they are well aware that they are helping the PPP in the long run by helping forge the next president from their own party. Still, the fact that the ruling party’s ethos is obsessed with determining who is most loyal or backstabbing vis-à-vis the hot-tempered president is rueful at best and just self-destructive at worst.