The country has not carried out capital punishment in almost three decades, despite its courts continuing to hand down death sentences.
Park Chang-seon was once a top student in South Korea who dreamed of becoming president.
But his life fell apart in 1974 when his father, Park Gi-rae, was arrested on charges of anti-state activities and sentenced to death a year later.
“It felt like the world had turned upside down,” the younger Park told CNA.
“Before his arrest, I was a top student, won national speech contests and appeared on KBS television. But after his arrest, I became ‘the son of a spy’, ‘the son of a communist’.”
The label followed the family during the authoritarian rule of former President Park Chung-hee.
From middle school onwards, Park Chang-seon said he endured relentless abuse from teachers and other parents. Visits to his father at Seodaemun Detention Center filled him with dread, and he was forced to wait for hours in freezing weather.
“For nine years, every visit felt like attending a funeral. We never knew if it would be the last time we saw him, because we didn’t know when he would die,” he recounted.
A reprieve came in 1983 when his father’s death sentence was reduced to life imprisonment. He was paroled in 1991 after 17 years behind bars and died in 2012.
In 2023, decades after his conviction, a court declared him innocent, ruling that his confession had been obtained through torture.
Park Gi-rae’s story underscores the controversy surrounding South Korea’s capital punishment system, which has once again come under scrutiny.
Prosecutors are seeking the death penalty for former President Yoon Suk Yeol on insurrection charges over his martial law declaration in December 2024, which plunged the nation into months of political turmoil.
The Seoul central district court is set to give its verdict on these charges on Thursday (Feb 19).
GAP BETWEEN LAW AND REALITY
Although South Korea’s courts continue to hand down death sentences, the country has not carried out an execution since 1997.
About 57 inmates remain on death row, leaving the country in a legal limbo where capital punishment exists on paper but not in practice.
Legal experts say this gap between law and reality must eventually be resolved.
“Because the law and reality are out of sync, the question becomes how to resolve this gap. There are essentially two options,” said Cha Jina, a law professor at Korea University.
“One is to keep the law as it is and adjust reality accordingly, meaning to resume executions. The other is to amend the law – that is, to abolish the death penalty.”
Public opinion on this remains divided across the country.
“If an innocent person were executed because of a wrongful judgment, how unfair would that be?” one member of the public in Seoul told CNA.
“These days, crimes are extremely cruel. There needs to be a clear example set – at least once – to serve as a warning,” said another.
Surveys suggest more than 60 per cent of South Koreans support capital punishment, largely driven by fears of violent crime.
“On the premise of introducing life imprisonment without the possibility of parole, abolishing the death penalty may be a way to better align the law with reality,” Cha noted.
Human rights groups warn that the death penalty carries the risk of irreversible error, pointing to cases like Park Gi-rae’s as a stark reminder.
For his son Chang-seon, the court’s apology and financial compensation have done little to ease decades of trauma.
The family was awarded about 1.33 billion won (US$921,000) in compensation after the acquittal. Two other men in the same case were executed.
“This isn’t something money can fix. Even though the presiding judge apologised, what’s needed is institutional recognition – memorials and acknowledgment – because the trauma continues into the third generation. Even my siblings are still suffering,” said Park Chang-seon.
