one year of martial law

one year of martial law

When December comes, my heart always shakes. Carols flow on the streets, and people walk with year-end regrets and a new year's expectations, wearing thick coat collars. It was a time when year-end parties, after-party and year-end gatherings continued. On that day, I was listening to lectures with my colleagues after the year-end event was over. A small space with about 15 people. Someone said.

"It's martial law."

At first, everyone laughed and moved on to fake news. However, the breaking news that appeared on the mobile phone screen a few seconds later solidified our facial expressions.

Dear citizens, I am from the threat of North Korean communist forces... I declare an emergency martial law.

His voice is as silent as a mechanical sound. However, the sentence directly hit a crack in our daily lives. Martial law in 2024. It didn't seem real at all. As we checked each other's faces with our bodies stiffened, we woke up almost at the same time. We had to go to the National Assembly, which had the authority to lift martial law. As soon as we got into the car, we heard second and third breaking news constantly from the radio.

It was 15 minutes from Hongdae to Yeouido, but 15 minutes of that day was the longest and shortest time in my life. The night view was spread as usual outside the window, but the light suddenly looked strange. The palms of the hands were wet with sweat, and there was a strangely heavy silence in the car that closed each other's speech.

People were already gathering one by one to the National Assembly. The police were blocking the National Assembly from entering, and I was recording the citizens' movements live broadcasting the scene on social media with trembling hands. It was then.

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Several helicopters passed over the National Assembly. The roar of the propeller sounded like a tap on the chest. My back became cold. What if something fell from there? A raw fear that cannot be explained in words came rushing in. People instinctively looked up at the sky, but there was a moment of silence.
After a brief silence, someone shouted, and we immediately shouted together.

"Get rid of the emergency rule! Get rid of the emergency rule!"

I didn't even know that I was losing my voice. Our shouts rang out from the night air. Two hours later, there was a breaking news that a resolution calling for the lifting of emergency martial law was passed with the approval of all 190 lawmakers. About 280 martial law army who had been guarding the National Assembly withdrew one by one, and we were finally able to turn around and head home.

But that night wasn't the end. The time in the square began from that moment, and the time lasted for six months. On a cold winter night, people put their frozen hands on the backs of each other's hands and shared thin sheets of foil to endure. The body was frozen, but the eyes were determined. The winter air, coolness, and the piercing noise and shouts from the speakers are all still vivid.

In the square, we were all equal citizens. There, we were subjects, not subjects of politics, and we stood shoulder to shoulder to shoulder to defend our country and our freedom. The turmoil of the night from the declaration of martial law to the suspension of presidential duties to the decision to dismiss the president. The horrors of the night when the guns were pointed at the citizens the state must protect are not easily erased.

Nevertheless, they were time to revive the collapsed mind. The scene where about a dozen tractors crossed Nam Tae-ryeong into the Han River, the moments when strangers handed over chocolates and hot packs to each other, and the night when they were leaning against each other's body temperature on the freezing asphalt. We protected each other and were protected by each other.

I learned from that time that the nation can shake at any time, but the hearts of citizens do not collapse easily. I believe that no matter what winter comes in the future, we will be able to gather the embers again and illuminate the darkness. It is up to us to monitor, protect, and hold hands to prevent the same thing from happening again.

Democracy is a process, not an outcome. And that process is still, at this moment, by our side.