A president of one major political party is butting heads with a legislature dominated by the other. Recent election cycles pushed the two sides of the political divide so far apart that they can hardly agree on anything anymore. Deadlock ensues, wholly stalling the president’s agenda and thwarting campaign promises. Both sides claim their side is upholding democracy and the other is undermining it, leading each side’s supporters to believe the threat is existential. This scenario has become the expected in the United States, where an insurrection that occurred four years ago this week revealed just how fragile a democratic system is when one side shamelessly tries to illegally seize power. American democracy prevailed then, though weakened. South Korea’s democracy is facing a similar test today, but it’s unclear yet if its institutions will hold. Polarization there, too, has helped a political leader rally enough public support to potentially thwart accountability even as he flouts democratic rules and institutions.  As in the United States, polarization in South Korea has been growing unwieldy for years, but President Yoon Suk Yeol, now suspended, is the first president since the country’s democratic transition in the 1980s to rule without his party holding the National Assembly majority. Two years into his five-year term, Yoon has failed to deliver, his approval ratings have plummeted, and he blames his political opponents who control the legislature and don’t support his agenda. On Dec. 3, Yoon declared martial law, accusing the opposition of “trying to overthrow the free democracy” and sympathizing with North Korea. The army general he appointed as martial law commander quickly banned political activities, protests and independent news media.  The transparent power grab was quickly condemned by Yoon’s friends and foes alike. The leader of his own People Power Party pledged to stop it.  Inside and outside the political system, almost everyone opposed the martial law declaration, which brought back memories of the country’s repressive dictatorship that sparked the demonstrations that led to its democratic transition. Protesters poured into the streets calling for Yoon’s resignation, and lawmakers acted quickly to nullify the decree. It looked like a sign of democratic resilience, even as police and soldiers tried to block the legislators’ access to the National Assembly. Some reportedly had to scale fences and break through barricades to enter the building and participate in the vote. The lawmakers’ determination was reminiscent of the U.S. Congress’ resolve to certify the election in January 2021. As was the case in the United States, however, that wasn’t enough to ensure accountability that could deter similar attempts in the future.    Within a few hours, Yoon had backed down, but the crisis wasn’t over, with calls for his resignation and impeachment growing. The National Assembly successfully impeached him Dec. 14, accusing him of rebellion, though the outcome now rests in the hands of the country’s Constitutional Court, which is charged with deciding within six months whether to remove Yoon from office. For the time being, he is merely suspended.  Notably, most members of Yoon’s conservative party refused to vote against him, but the opposition was able to persuade enough of them to secure the two-thirds vote needed to block the martial law decree at least. Related Articles Commentary | Seung-Whan Choi: If South Korea’s president is impeached, who should replace him? Commentary | Daniel DePetris: How South Korea’s martial law and impeachment saga affects the US Commentary | Elizabeth Shackelford: Might makes right. Welcome to the new world disorder. The attempt at legal accountability, though, has been less successful. The Corruption Investigation Office (CIO) is investigating Yoon for abuse of power and inciting insurrection, along with several members of his cabinet. After Yoon refused multiple summonses to appear for questioning, a Seoul court issued a warrant for his arrest. About 100 police and CIO officers tried to execute that warrant Jan. 3, but 200 presidential guard and military troops loyal to Yoon physically blocked them from reaching him, leading to a six-hour standoff inside Yoon’s compound. Thousands of Yoon supporters protesting outside contributed to the chaos, with some adopting Trump supporters’ “Stop the Steal” slogan. Yoon’s defiance paid off, as he simply waited out the warrant, which expired on Monday.   The CIO persuaded the court to reissue the arrest warrant on Tuesday, but if this round is as futile as the first, Yoon’s attempt to remain above the law will succeed. Is the CIO chief prepared to use force or to take legal action against those officers obstructing arrest? Will he have the political support to do so? Is it worth risking violence to bring in a suspended president for questioning? If it comes to that, how will the public react? These aren’t easy questions to answer.  But the risk of letting obstruction of the rule of law slide at the highest levels is also grave. When bad acts are tolerated, bad actors get worse. If institutions can’t provide checks now, why would we expect them to in the future?  It’s a shocking spectacle in one of Asia’s strongest democracies. How it plays out will offer lessons, not only for those trying to defend other democracies around the world, but also to those trying to weaken them as well.  Elizabeth Shackelford is senior policy director at Dartmouth College’s Dickey Center for International Understanding and a foreign affairs columnist for the Chicago Tribune. She was previously a U.S. diplomat and is the author of “The Dissent Channel: American Diplomacy in a Dishonest Age.” Submit a letter, of no more than 400 words, to the editor here or email [email protected].