The Kyuna Kim Affair and the Lee Jae-myung Administration’s Assault on Free Expression
김규나 작가 사태와 이재명 정부의 표현의 자유 탄압

By Jungrak KimChairman of the International Exchange Committee

Freedom of expression is one of the core liberties of any liberal democratic system. Article 21 of the Constitution of the Republic of Korea guarantees freedom of speech, the press, assembly, and association. In a democratic society, citizens must be free to criticize the government, scholars must be free to present the results of their research, and writers must be free to express their views. These rights do not belong only to the majority. They also protect minority views, dissenting opinions, and unpopular arguments.

In recent years, South Korea has faced a growing debate over the scope and limits of free expression. At the center of that debate are criminal complaints and criminal penalties tied to historical interpretation and political speech. The case of writer Kyuna Kim has now become one of the clearest examples of this problem.

The case began in October 2024. Kim posted comments on social media criticizing author Han Kang’s literary work and challenging prevailing interpretations of the May 18 Democratization Movement. Civic groups later filed complaints against her. On August 13, 2025, prosecutors summarily indicted Kim for allegedly violating the Special Act on the May 18 Democratization Movement. Prosecutors sought a summary order imposing a fine of one million Korean won. Kim rejected the order and requested a formal trial. Her first hearing was held in April 2026. The first-instance verdict has since been postponed again and is now expected in mid-August 2026. 

The point that deserves attention is not the amount of the fine. The larger issue is that a writer’s social media post involving historical interpretation and literary criticism led to civic group complaints, a prosecutorial summary indictment, and a formal criminal trial. That process sends a clear message to other writers, researchers, YouTubers, and commentators who address the same subject: if one says something different from the interpretation sanctioned by the state, one may be pulled into criminal proceedings.

The central issue in this case, therefore, is not whether one agrees or disagrees with Kyuna Kim’s argument. The real question is whether interpretation of a historical event and expression of an opinion can be treated as a criminal offense. It is also whether the state can use prosecutors and courts to decide how far citizens may go when speaking about politically sensitive history.

Once the state begins punishing expression through criminal law, open debate becomes far more difficult. So do historical analysis and the raising of competing questions. Citizens will begin calculating, before speaking on a sensitive historical matter, whether they could be reported, investigated, or dragged into court. This is not merely a question of legal procedure. It is a question of whether the state may control a citizen’s right to think, speak, write, and record.

In a democracy, historical disputes should be handled through academic research, public debate, and journalistic argument. Every citizen must have the right to offer a different view of historical events. Testimony from those who directly experienced an event cannot be forced into a single official narrative. People who witnessed the same event may remember and describe it differently depending on where they were, what they experienced, and what fear, harm, or pressure they endured.

But if the state defines one interpretation of a particular event as official fact, and then treats testimony or analysis that differs from that legal standard as punishable speech, citizens can no longer speak freely or pursue historical inquiry without fear. Freedom of expression then becomes suppressed in the name of law. This is not merely the problem of one writer. It is a question of how far citizens and intellectuals in South Korea are still permitted to speak.

Article 8 of the Special Act on the May 18 Democratization Movement, Etc.1 provides that anyone who spreads false facts about the May 18 Democratization Movement may be punished by imprisonment of up to five years or a fine of up to 50 million Korean won. The provision lists a wide range of possible methods of dissemination, including newspapers, magazines, broadcasting, publications, information and communications networks, exhibitions, performances, panel discussions, meetings, press conferences, assemblies, and street speeches. The stated legislative purpose is to prevent the spread of false information about May 18 and to protect the honor of victims and their families.

Article 8, Paragraph 2 of the same law contains an exception. It states that expression made for purposes of art, scholarship, research, academic theory, reporting on current events, reporting on the historical process, or other similar purposes shall not be punished. On its face, this provision appears to protect writers, researchers, journalists, and citizen commentators.

Yet this is precisely where the contradiction in the law becomes visible. The statute says that artistic, scholarly, research-based, theoretical, and journalistic expression is protected. But in actual enforcement, writers, researchers, YouTubers, and citizen commentators who raise different interpretations of history can still become targets of complaints, investigations, and prosecution. The mere existence of an exception does not mean freedom of expression is protected. What matters is whether that exception actually protects citizens in real cases.

The Kyuna Kim case demonstrates this problem. If a writer’s literary criticism and historical interpretation can move from civic group complaints to prosecutorial indictment and then to formal trial, it is difficult to argue that the statutory exception has worked as a shield for free expression. Instead, it becomes a burden imposed on the citizen after she has already been brought before the court. The accused must then prove, after the fact, that her expression qualifies as research, criticism, reporting, or legitimate commentary.

This is where critics argue that the law collides with the basic principles of liberal democracy. Even if the stated purpose is to protect the honor of victims and their families, a law that pulls competing interpretations and public questions into the machinery of complaint and trial does not function as a shield for expression. It functions as a restriction on expression.

Historical research develops through new evidence, testimony, and competing interpretations. When the state protects one historical view by law and treats alternative claims or analysis as potential criminal offenses, it effectively draws the boundaries of acceptable historical interpretation. That outcome exposes a serious contradiction: a law enacted in the name of protecting victims’ honor can end up restricting the citizen’s freedom to speak, investigate, and debate. In a liberal democracy, law should protect citizens’ speech. It should not become a tool for selectively punishing citizens who speak outside the interpretation approved by the state.

The Kyuna Kim case is not an isolated matter. In recent years, scholars, writers, commentators, and YouTubers have repeatedly faced criminal complaints over issues including the May 18 Democratization Movement, the Jeju April 3 Incident, the wartime “comfort women” issue, forced labor under Japanese rule, and disputes over pro-Japanese collaboration. In these cases, historical and political disputes are increasingly handled not through public debate and rebuttal, but through complaints, investigations, and court proceedings.

This trend has become even more sensitive since the inauguration of the Lee Jae-myung administration. The Kyuna Kim case began before the current government took office, so it cannot be said that this administration directly initiated the case. But the government has not used this case to make a clear statement in defense of free expression. Instead, under the banner of countering false information, preventing historical distortion, and regulating online content, the state is moving in a direction that allows deeper monitoring and punishment of citizens’ speech.

The question is who decides what counts as false information. If reporting that makes the government and ruling party uncomfortable, YouTube broadcasts criticizing the president, or writings by authors challenging prevailing historical interpretations can all be labeled “false information” or “historical distortion,” then the system does not operate as a defense of democracy. It becomes a shield for those in power. The Chinese Communist Party also punishes anti-government speech under labels such as “spreading false information” and “disturbing social order.” Liberal democracies must not silence citizens in that manner.

The posture now being shown by the Lee Jae-myung administration is dangerous. Even if the government did not directly initiate the Kyuna Kim case, a normal liberal democratic government would clearly affirm that writers, journalists, and citizens are free to speak about political power and historical questions. It would protect citizens who exercise that right. Instead, the current government has avoided making that principle clear and is moving toward narrowing the permissible range of expression under the pretext of countering false information and preventing historical distortion. That is not the posture of a liberal democratic government. It is the posture of a government seeking to control speech that those in power find inconvenient.

The Expansion of Online Speech Regulation and the U.S. Platform Issue

The Korea Communications Standards Commission’s system for deleting internet posts and blocking access to online content has also remained a continuing source of controversy. The government and the Commission describe the system as a tool to respond to illegal content and false information. But concerns persist that it can lead to excessive intervention in political expression. As political and current-affairs content posted on global digital platforms operated by U.S. companies, including YouTube and Facebook, becomes subject to review and regulatory discussion, the issue no longer remains a purely domestic administrative matter. The question of how far the Korean government may classify online political speech as false information, and under what standards it may request deletion or blocking, is directly tied to freedom of expression.

Repeated review of political YouTube channels and current-affairs content is not merely an administrative issue. Today, many citizens in South Korea encounter political issues not covered by terrestrial broadcasters or major newspapers through YouTube and online media. If the government begins pressuring that space in the name of countering false information, government-critical content will be the first to be chilled. Those in power will always be tempted to call unfavorable reporting false. That is why a liberal democracy must be wary of any structure in which the government becomes the final judge of whether expression is true or false.

The international community has long paid attention to South Korea’s free-expression regime. South Korea is generally classified as a free country, but criminal defamation, the National Security Act, history-related punishment laws, and internet review systems have remained subjects of concern for international human rights bodies. Criminal defamation in particular has repeatedly drawn calls for reform from international human rights organizations and United Nations human rights bodies.

When history-punishment laws are combined with false-information regulation, South Korea’s free-expression problem no longer remains a matter of domestic political dispute. If a writer can be brought into court for criticizing a historical issue, if a YouTuber can be subjected to review for criticizing the government, and if a citizen must worry about complaints after posting political opinions online, South Korea weakens the standards expected of a liberal democratic state.

This is also why the United States Congress should pay attention. South Korea is a treaty ally of the United States, home to U.S. forces, and a key pillar of the Indo-Pacific security strategy. But if an allied government uses criminal proceedings and online regulation to pressure the political expression and historical interpretation of writers, journalists, researchers, and YouTubers, Washington cannot view South Korea merely as a military ally. Alliances are not sustained by weapons and bases alone. If the shared foundation of liberal democracy weakens, the political legitimacy of the U.S.-Korea alliance also weakens.

Members of the U.S. Senate and House should ask the Korean government clear questions. Will the Republic of Korea continue to treat historical issues and political expression as matters for criminal punishment? Will it use the label of “false information” to pressure government-critical reporting and conservative content? Will writers and researchers be allowed to speak outside historical interpretations approved by the state? These questions are not confined to Korean domestic politics. They are directly connected to alliance management, human rights diplomacy, and the Indo-Pacific strategy.

The Lee Jae-myung administration is now moving toward strengthening false-information regulation and history-punishment laws. In particular, the amended Act on Promotion of Information and Communications Network Utilization and Information Protection2, commonly referred to as the amended Information and Communications Network Act, is scheduled to take effect on July 7, 2026. It strengthens regulation of online expression under the banner of countering fabricated or false information. According to the government’s own announcement, the system includes mandatory complaint-receiving obligations for large-scale information and communications service providers, punitive damages of up to five times the actual harm, and administrative fines of up to one billion Korean won when information determined by a court or other authority to be illegal or fabricated is repeatedly distributed two or more times.

The issue is that this regulatory pressure is already extending beyond users inside South Korea. Korean government agencies’ regulation of online expression is affecting Korean broadcasters, online current-affairs content operators, and citizen commentators living in the United States. There are cases in which Facebook posts and political opinions written in the United States by U.S. citizens have become targets of Korean institutional sanctions. There are also cases in which high-value administrative fines have been imposed on Korean-language media figures based in the United States. This shows that Korea’s false-information regulation and online review system are no longer confined to Korean territory. They are already affecting political expression and media activity within the Korean-American community in the United States.

If the Korean government regulates political and current-affairs speech by Korean broadcasters in the United States, and content posted on global platforms such as YouTube and Facebook, under the labels of false information or historical distortion, this is not a simple matter of domestic administrative regulation. It means that the speech of U.S. citizens, political commentary posted online in the United States, Korean-language media activity based in America, and expression carried on digital platforms operated by U.S. companies can all come under pressure from the Korean government.

If this trend becomes more firmly embedded in law and policy, South Korea will move farther away from the name of a liberal democratic ally. This cannot be dismissed as an internal Korean culture war. The United States must examine whether freedom of expression is actually retreating in one of its core allies, and whether the Korean government still intends to uphold the basic principles of liberal democracy.

The Kyuna Kim case shows whether a writer’s essay, a researcher’s paper, or a citizen’s social media post in South Korea can become the subject of political complaint and criminal punishment. If the Lee Jae-myung administration does not stop this trend, freedom of expression in Korea may remain written in the Constitution while no longer functioning in reality.

The U.S. Congress and the international community should watch this situation closely. If freedom to criticize the government and freedom to interpret history are placed under criminal proceedings and online regulation, this is not merely an internal Korean matter. It is a test of whether the U.S.-Korea alliance still stands on the same liberal democratic values.