Following the impeachment of former South Korean president Yoon Suk-yeol, the country’s shamanic community has broken its traditional silence to condemn the disgraced leader for what they call a misuse of sacred spiritual practices for personal and political gain.
As reported by The Times UK, the fallout from Yoon’s alleged attempt to impose martial law on December 3 has shocked not only lawmakers and citizens, but also traditional shamans—an influential but often discreet force in Korean culture. The controversial move, reportedly aided by mystics and former military officers-turned-spiritualists, is now the subject of a far-reaching criminal investigation.
The scandal deepened last week when investigators raided the private residence of Yoon and his wife, Kim Keon-hee, in southern Seoul. The search is part of an inquiry into Jeon Seong-bae, a shaman known as “Geonjin,” who is suspected of acting as an intermediary in a bribery scheme involving the Unification Church. According to prosecutors, the church allegedly attempted to curry favor with Kim by gifting her a diamond necklace worth over £32,000 and a luxury handbag. The aim, investigators say, was to influence official aid disbursements to the church’s projects in Cambodia—a country that later saw increased South Korean aid.
In response, Lee Sung-jae, head of South Korea’s largest shamanic association, issued a rare public rebuke: “Shamanism is fundamentally a spiritual practice dedicated to protecting the country. Using it for personal or political gain is sacrilegious.”
Yoon’s long-rumored ties to spiritual figures have been a recurring issue since his presidential campaign. During one televised debate, viewers noticed the Chinese character for “king” (왕) drawn on his palm—something his aides initially dismissed as a motivational gesture by a supporter. However, repeated appearances of the same symbol during earlier events fueled speculation that it was a talisman meant to channel supernatural forces into his political career.
His wife, Kim, further fanned public suspicion with her background in fortune-telling and a doctoral thesis on divination. Reports also allege that Yoon frequently consulted spiritual advisers during key political meetings.
Adding to the controversy, former Defence Intelligence Command chief Noh Sang-won—who was dishonorably discharged in 2018 for sexual misconduct—has been charged for his central role in the attempted coup. After reinventing himself as a shaman and fortune-teller, Noh allegedly devised plans to seize the National Election Commission and falsify evidence of voter fraud.
These developments draw uncomfortable parallels with South Korea’s recent political history. Park Geun-hye, the former president who served a prison term for corruption, was similarly accused of being under the sway of a shamanic confidante—a scandal that shook public trust in both politics and traditional belief systems.
While shamanism continues to occupy a respected cultural niche in South Korea, its politicization has sparked intense backlash. Critics argue that its use by high-level political figures undermines the spiritual integrity of the practice and damages its legitimacy in the eyes of the public.
For many South Koreans, the latest revelations mark not just the collapse of a presidency but a crisis of credibility for the nation’s leadership—and a cultural reckoning with how ancient traditions are wielded in modern power struggles.
