After surviving an attempted purge by his own party, Kim Moon-soo emerges as the conservative movement’s surprise contender against Lee Jae-myung. Now two former Gyeonggi governors with working-class roots offer South Korea starkly divergent futures.
In a scene worthy of a Tom Clancy thriller, the People Power Party (PPP) leadership moved in the early hours of May 10, 2025, to oust Kim Moon-soo as its presidential nominee, backing former Prime Minister Han Duck-soo instead.
But by day’s end, rank-and-file members revolted and overturned the decision. Emergency Committee Chair Kwon Young-se resigned, taking responsibility, and the party began to stabilize.
Despite the chaos, the episode reaffirmed the PPP’s commitment to internal democracy and the rule of law – offering conservatives a rare glimmer of hope that liberal democracy in South Korea still endures.
A Koizumi-style rebellion in Korean colors
Kim Moon-soo’s rise evokes Junichiro Koizumi’s 2005 campaign in Japan to “destroy the Liberal Democratic Party” from within. While Kim hasn’t made such an explicit declaration, the parallels are striking.
The same PPP powerbrokers who led impeachments against Park Geun-hye and Yoon Suk Yeol have now tried to purge their own presidential nominee.
By resisting them, Kim isn’t just running with the party – he’s running against its entrenched elite.
Immediately after being reinstated as the PPP’s presidential nominee, on May 11, Kim Moon-soo dismissed Lee Yang-soo – who had led party unification talks with former Prime Minister Han Duck-soo – and appointed lawmaker Park Dae-chul as the new secretary-general. Lawmakers who supported unification with Han were sidelined, while critics of the party leadership were elevated.
Kim Moon-soo: from leftist legend to conservative icon
Before becoming a conservative statesman – serving as a National Assembly member, Gyeonggi governor and chair of the Economic, Social and Labor Council – Kim was a radical labor activist aligned with South Korea’s far-left National Liberation (NL) faction.
As a student at Seoul National University during military rule, Kim joined anti-authoritarian protests and then turned to labor organizing, convinced that revolution began in factories.
In the 1980s, he became a leader of the underground, NL-aligned Seoul Labor Movement Union (Seonoryeon), disguising himself as a factory worker to unionize labor and spread Marxist-nationalist thought.
Repeatedly arrested and tortured under the authoritarian regime, Kim never betrayed his comrades – a stance that earned him deep respect and turned him into a symbol of militant resistance.
A 2024 newspaper article described him as a “legend of the labor movement.” He pioneered the “disguised employment” strategy – taking jobs under false identities to organize unions. Twice expelled from university and jailed multiple times, it took him 24 years and six months to graduate.
Among labor activists, Kim became a mythic figure:
- Students circulated his speeches.
- Former leftist Justice Party leader Sim Sang-jung called him “the crown prince of the activist movement,”
- Lee So-sun, mother of labor icon Jeon Tae-il, referred to him as “my son.”
From radical left to right
Even after he became a conservative politician, Kim’s actions were still driven by the same unwavering conviction that once made him a symbol of leftist resistance – only now, that conviction defines his role as a principled conservative. Several moments illustrate this enduring consistency.
On February 11, 2017, while serving as an emergency committee member of the PPP, Kim Moon-soo attended an anti-impeachment rally, declared former President Park Geun-hye “innocent” and argued that “the National Assembly that impeached her should itself be impeached and dismantled.”
On October 26, 2019, at the 40th anniversary memorial for former President Park Chung-hee, Kim delivered a eulogy, reflecting on his transformation from a student activist who opposed Park’s regime to a public official paying tribute at his grave. He credited Park with laying the foundation for South Korea’s rapid industrialization and modernization, calling him a visionary unmatched in global history.
During a plenary session on December 11, 2024, a Democratic Party lawmaker demanded all ministers apologize for President Yoon’s declaration of martial law. Every minister complied – except Kim. He remained seated, refusing to bow.
Such moments cemented his image among conservatives as a man who stands his ground – even amid controversy and pressure.
Lee Jae-myung: the populist insider
Lee also rose from poverty, but in politics his path diverged sharply from that of Lee Moon-soo. Lee did not join the student or underground movements of the 1980s. Instead, he worked within the system as a labor attorney, building his career through technocratic proposals and populist messaging rather than ideological commitment or street-level activism.
While Kim staked his body and freedom on a cause, Lee did not march, organize or bleed for one. His career, though notable in parts, lacks Kim’s historical depth and revolutionary pedigree. On activist credentials and early sacrifice, Lee simply cannot compete.
The challenge Lee can’t ignore
This is what makes Kim such a threat -–not just to Lee’s policies, but to the personal narrative Lee has long relied on.
Lee’s oft-repeated poverty story loses impact by comparison. Kim grew up with even less and, unlike Lee, has remained financially modest throughout his public career. At age 73, Kim reports assets of just 1 billion won (approximately $740,000), while the 60-year-old Lee holds over 3 billion won (around $2.2 million).
Lee’s image as a “defender of democracy” fades next to Kim, the veteran of Korea’s pro-democracy underground. Even Lee’s tenure as Gyeonggi governor is eclipsed – Kim served two terms and earned broad bipartisan respect.
And while Lee cites his teenage factory job, Kim spent years infiltrating factories under false names to organize workers.
Kim was on the front lines of Korea’s fight against authoritarianism – organizing in the shadows, enduring prison and torture, never betraying his comrades.
In short, Kim doesn’t merely challenge Lee on policy. He undermines the foundation of Lee’s public image, recasting the race as a contest of authenticity, sacrifice and principle.
Lee’s party of one
In addition, while Kim challenges his party’s establishment, Lee Jae-myung increasingly dominates his. The Democratic Party now orbits almost entirely around him, resembling a one-man party.
On May 15, 2025, the Supreme Court found Lee guilty of election law violations and ordered a retrial. The lower court, now bound by this decision, is expected to convict him – which would disqualify Lee from running for president if the ruling is issued before the June 3 election.
In response, the Democratic Party devised an outlandish strategy – one that North Korea’s Kim Jong-un would admire.
On May 7, 2025, the party unilaterally passed an amendment to the Criminal Procedure Act allowing trials to be suspended if a defendant is elected president – except in cases of acquittal or dismissal.
A fight larger than the candidates
What began as a routine campaign now feels like a reckoning. In Kim Moon-soo, Korea sees the return of a figure shaped by sacrifice, disillusioned by power yet unwilling to surrender principle. In Lee Jae-myung, voters face a consummate political survivor whose grip on his party is unmatched but whose narrative is beginning to fray.
The 2027 presidential race is no longer a referendum on populism or partisanship – it is a test of whether Korea still rewards authenticity over ambition, memory over messaging. And, for the first time in years, the outcome feels uncertain. Not because the system is breaking, but because – against all odds – it might still work.
Hanjin Lew, a political commentator specializing in East Asian affairs, is a former international spokesman for South Korean conservative parties.