Who is Lee Jae-myung, South Korea’s possible next president?

When south korea’s president, Yoon Suk Yeol, sent troops streaming into the country’s National Assembly on December 3rd, Lee Jae-myung turned on his livestream. Viewers watched on a shaky smartphone camera feed as the head of the country’s largest opposition force, the Democratic Party (dp), scaled the walls of parliament to help stop the attempt to impose martial law. That Mr Yoon thought he could use force to control modern-day South Korea, a wealthy democracy with a rich civic consciousness, is “just absurd”, says Mr Lee, who lost narrowly to Mr Yoon in presidential elections in 2022.

Two months have now passed since that fateful night. South Korea is still in limbo, with both Mr Yoon and his prime minister suspended from office and the government led by its second acting president. Yet as the cases against Mr Yoon move forward—an impeachment trial in the constitutional court is under way and prosecutors indicted him on January 26th on criminal charges of insurrection—the country is increasingly turning its attention to what comes next. Speaking to The Economist in a conference room inside the same National Assembly building, Mr Lee is confident, composed and quick to smile. He says the urgent task is to “restore constitutional order” and skirts questions about running again. But if a presidential vote were held today, he would be the favourite, with big implications for South Korea’s future direction.

Mr Lee’s ascent is far from guaranteed. He faces serious legal problems of his own. He has been charged with a spate of alleged crimes linked to a development project during his time as mayor of Seongnam, his hometown south of Seoul, and to illegal fund transfers to North Korea. In November he was found guilty of election-law violations for lying during the previous presidential campaign; if the conviction is upheld on appeal, he would be barred from running for several years. He denies wrongdoing and his allies remain confident that the appeals process will buy him enough time to stand in new elections. But the allegations have made him a divisive figure. Ahead of parliamentary elections last year, Mr Lee survived an assassination attempt by a knife-wielding extremist.

South Korea remains deeply polarised. In recent weeks public opinion has swung against the dp, which had opened up a wide lead over Mr Yoon’s People’s Power Party (ppp) in December. Some recent polls even show the pppneck-and-neck with the dp; Mr Lee narrowly beats potential ppp opponents in hypothetical head-to-head races. Such shifts are a sign that voters, who are frustrated with the ongoing turmoil, once viewed his party as an opposition force but now see it as “the leadership force who needs to take responsibility”, Mr Lee reckons.

Recently Mr Lee has been trying to cast himself as a responsible choice to lead the country’s recovery. His life story is the stuff of Dickensian dreams. His parents cleaned public toilets. Instead of going to secondary school he worked in factories. He educated himself and entered law school, becoming a labour activist and human-rights lawyer who advocated for the working classes. As he rose through the political ranks, he developed a reputation as an effective, if slippery, operator. “He is a problem-solver, rather than an ideological agitator,” says Moon Chung-in, an adviser to Moon Jae-in, the dppresident from 2017 to 2022. “For him, interests matter more than values.”

That image is central to his pitch to voters. Mr Lee says his party’s guiding value is “pragmatism”. Once known for progressive policies such as a universal basic income, he has tacked to the centre on economics. He speaks of the importance of “restoring growth” and “growing the pie”. In a press conference on January 23rd that looked like a soft campaign launch, he praised the private sector, highlighted the importance of capital markets and called for a results-oriented politics that moves beyond ideologies and factions. 

He sends a similar message on foreign policy. South Korea’s left traditionally favours engagement with North Korea, mistrusts Japan (because of its colonial-era abuses) and, though in favour of the alliance with America, seeks balance between it and other powers such as China and Russia. American officials fret that a new dp administration will mean kowtowing to China and an end to the trilateral co-operation between America, South Korea and Japan that flourished under Mr Yoon. Japanese leaders are bracing for a return to tetchy relations. The first unsuccessful impeachment motion brought against Mr Yoon included a section excoriating him for pursuing a “bizarre Japan-centred foreign policy” and for “antagonising” North Korea, Russia and China.

In meetings with foreign diplomats Mr Lee has tried to dispel those presumptions. The foreign-policy section was stripped from the second, ultimately successful impeachment motion. Mr Lee positions South Korea firmly as a “member of the liberal democratic camp”. Since the previous dpadministration, the security environment around South Korea has changed, narrowing the potential room for manoeuvre. The public has soured markedly on China, warmed towards Japan and increasingly tuned out North Korean provocations—shifts that Mr Lee, an acute observer of voter moods, has surely noticed. But even a more pragmatic dp leader will still deviate from South Korea’s current course.

Consider Mr Lee’s remarks on South Korea’s three big interlocking challenges. The most fundamental is relations with North Korea. Previous dpadministrations pursued a “sunshine policy” aimed at projecting warmth to foster peace. Last year Kim Jong Un, North Korea’s dictator, declared that the two Koreas were no longer one divided country but two enemy states—in effect slathering on a thick layer of sunscreen and donning dark glasses. Mr Lee acknowledges that relations are “hostile”. But he contends that the balance of deterrence and dialogue has become skewed. South Korea’s own formidable armed forces, its alliance with America and its growing security co-operation with Japan mean that “we are already plenty strong enough militarily to deter North Korea.” What is needed now is to “communicate and engage”, he argues.

The most sensitive foreign-policy issue is Japan. The walls of the room where Mr Lee sits are lined with portraits of past progressive leaders stretching back to Kim Gu, a famed activist who fought for Korean independence from the Japanese empire. But given present-day geopolitical realities, Mr Lee has “no objections” to deepening relations with Japan and continuing the trilateral co-operation. Japan’s defence build-up does not pose a threat to South Korea, as relations are at present “not hostile”, he says. “I used to think that Japan was a country full of very strange people who invaded South Korea, committed horrific human-rights violations, and yet never properly apologised for it,” he recalls. But after visiting the country during his time as a lawyer, “I was shocked by Japanese people’s diligence, sincerity and courtesy” and came to see that the relationship “has ultimately been distorted by politics”.

When south korea’s president, Yoon Suk Yeol, sent troops streaming into the country’s National Assembly on December 3rd, Lee Jae-myung turned on his livestream. Viewers watched on a shaky smartphone camera feed as the head of the country’s largest opposition force, the Democratic Party (dp), scaled the walls of parliament to help stop the attempt to impose martial law. That Mr Yoon thought he could use force to control modern-day South Korea, a wealthy democracy with a rich civic consciousness, is “just absurd”, says Mr Lee, who lost narrowly to Mr Yoon in presidential elections in 2022.

Two months have now passed since that fateful night. South Korea is still in limbo, with both Mr Yoon and his prime minister suspended from office and the government led by its second acting president. Yet as the cases against Mr Yoon move forward—an impeachment trial in the constitutional court is under way and prosecutors indicted him on January 26th on criminal charges of insurrection—the country is increasingly turning its attention to what comes next. Speaking to The Economist in a conference room inside the same National Assembly building, Mr Lee is confident, composed and quick to smile. He says the urgent task is to “restore constitutional order” and skirts questions about running again. But if a presidential vote were held today, he would be the favourite, with big implications for South Korea’s future direction.

Mr Lee’s ascent is far from guaranteed. He faces serious legal problems of his own. He has been charged with a spate of alleged crimes linked to a development project during his time as mayor of Seongnam, his hometown south of Seoul, and to illegal fund transfers to North Korea. In November he was found guilty of election-law violations for lying during the previous presidential campaign; if the conviction is upheld on appeal, he would be barred from running for several years. He denies wrongdoing and his allies remain confident that the appeals process will buy him enough time to stand in new elections. But the allegations have made him a divisive figure. Ahead of parliamentary elections last year, Mr Lee survived an assassination attempt by a knife-wielding extremist.

South Korea remains deeply polarised. In recent weeks public opinion has swung against the dp, which had opened up a wide lead over Mr Yoon’s People’s Power Party (ppp) in December. Some recent polls even show the pppneck-and-neck with the dp; Mr Lee narrowly beats potential ppp opponents in hypothetical head-to-head races. Such shifts are a sign that voters, who are frustrated with the ongoing turmoil, once viewed his party as an opposition force but now see it as “the leadership force who needs to take responsibility”, Mr Lee reckons.

Recently Mr Lee has been trying to cast himself as a responsible choice to lead the country’s recovery. His life story is the stuff of Dickensian dreams. His parents cleaned public toilets. Instead of going to secondary school he worked in factories. He educated himself and entered law school, becoming a labour activist and human-rights lawyer who advocated for the working classes. As he rose through the political ranks, he developed a reputation as an effective, if slippery, operator. “He is a problem-solver, rather than an ideological agitator,” says Moon Chung-in, an adviser to Moon Jae-in, the dppresident from 2017 to 2022. “For him, interests matter more than values.”

That image is central to his pitch to voters. Mr Lee says his party’s guiding value is “pragmatism”. Once known for progressive policies such as a universal basic income, he has tacked to the centre on economics. He speaks of the importance of “restoring growth” and “growing the pie”. In a press conference on January 23rd that looked like a soft campaign launch, he praised the private sector, highlighted the importance of capital markets and called for a results-oriented politics that moves beyond ideologies and factions. 

He sends a similar message on foreign policy. South Korea’s left traditionally favours engagement with North Korea, mistrusts Japan (because of its colonial-era abuses) and, though in favour of the alliance with America, seeks balance between it and other powers such as China and Russia. American officials fret that a new dp administration will mean kowtowing to China and an end to the trilateral co-operation between America, South Korea and Japan that flourished under Mr Yoon. Japanese leaders are bracing for a return to tetchy relations. The first unsuccessful impeachment motion brought against Mr Yoon included a section excoriating him for pursuing a “bizarre Japan-centred foreign policy” and for “antagonising” North Korea, Russia and China.

In meetings with foreign diplomats Mr Lee has tried to dispel those presumptions. The foreign-policy section was stripped from the second, ultimately successful impeachment motion. Mr Lee positions South Korea firmly as a “member of the liberal democratic camp”. Since the previous dpadministration, the security environment around South Korea has changed, narrowing the potential room for manoeuvre. The public has soured markedly on China, warmed towards Japan and increasingly tuned out North Korean provocations—shifts that Mr Lee, an acute observer of voter moods, has surely noticed. But even a more pragmatic dp leader will still deviate from South Korea’s current course.

Consider Mr Lee’s remarks on South Korea’s three big interlocking challenges. The most fundamental is relations with North Korea. Previous dpadministrations pursued a “sunshine policy” aimed at projecting warmth to foster peace. Last year Kim Jong Un, North Korea’s dictator, declared that the two Koreas were no longer one divided country but two enemy states—in effect slathering on a thick layer of sunscreen and donning dark glasses. Mr Lee acknowledges that relations are “hostile”. But he contends that the balance of deterrence and dialogue has become skewed. South Korea’s own formidable armed forces, its alliance with America and its growing security co-operation with Japan mean that “we are already plenty strong enough militarily to deter North Korea.” What is needed now is to “communicate and engage”, he argues.

The most sensitive foreign-policy issue is Japan. The walls of the room where Mr Lee sits are lined with portraits of past progressive leaders stretching back to Kim Gu, a famed activist who fought for Korean independence from the Japanese empire. But given present-day geopolitical realities, Mr Lee has “no objections” to deepening relations with Japan and continuing the trilateral co-operation. Japan’s defence build-up does not pose a threat to South Korea, as relations are at present “not hostile”, he says. “I used to think that Japan was a country full of very strange people who invaded South Korea, committed horrific human-rights violations, and yet never properly apologised for it,” he recalls. But after visiting the country during his time as a lawyer, “I was shocked by Japanese people’s diligence, sincerity and courtesy” and came to see that the relationship “has ultimately been distorted by politics”.

Nonetheless, he criticises Mr Yoon’s “excessively submissive attitude” towards the former coloniser. The “emotional conflict” between Japan and South Korea “has not disappeared but was just hidden away”. As a party, the dp is still shrill on disputes with Japan. One recent statement calls the Japanese government “truly despicable” for asserting sovereignty over the Dokdo islands, which South Korea controls but Japan claims (and calls Takeshima).

The most difficult issue is calibrating relations with America and China. “Why are we bothering China? We should just say ‘xie xie’ (thank you) and ‘xie xie’ to Taiwan as well,” Mr Lee declared during a campaign stop last year, to the dismay of many in America. “Why do we care what happens to the Taiwan Strait? Shouldn’t we just take care of ourselves?” He says that the comments simply meant that South Korea “needs to be practical in its diplomacy” and to avoid “worsening relations [with China] to the point that it harms our national interest”. That is unlikely to please China hawks in the new Trump administration. Navigating superpower competition may make defending democracy at home look like the easy part.