March for the Beloved: A Song of Resistance and Hope

 

An Unfinished Rebellion: This Time, a Judicial Coup

 

On May 1, 2025, South Korea witnessed what many are calling another coup—this time not by soldiers, but by judges. The Supreme Court overturned an earlier ruling that had acquitted presidential candidate Lee Jae-myung of violating election laws. Instead, they sent the case back with clear instructions to convict him.

 

This decision broke with 70 years of legal tradition. It was led by Chief Justice Cho Hee-dae and 9 Supreme Court justices who were appointed by Loon Suk-yeol, a former president now on trial for leading a rebellion. Many believe this ruling was not about justice but a desperate attempt to stop the opposition leader from becoming the next president.

 

The public quickly raised serious doubts. Could the justices really have read over 60,000 pages of case files in just two or three days? A nationwide petition demanding to see the justices’ document review records gathered over one million signatures in only two days.

 

Citizens who had recently celebrated the impeachment of Loon Suk-yeol and the end of martial law once again gathered in protest. Carrying signs and light sticks, they assembled outside the Supreme Court building in Seocho-dong, Seoul.

 

 

 

 

The speed of the Supreme Court’s ruling was shocking. Cases like this usually take at least a year or two, but this decision came in just over a month. Realistically, the justices only had two days to review the documents, yet they treated the case as if they were retrying the facts, even though the Supreme Court is only supposed to judge legal questions. The ruling left many ordinary people confused and angry. Many now fear that future trials for Loon and his allies will also be biased.

 

The charge against Lee Jae-myung was not a serious crime like rebellion. It involved whether he had made certain statements or knew certain people—matters that might have simply been forgotten or misunderstood. Still, the Court attempted to strip him of his right to run for office by convicting him and handing down a prison sentence. Many see this as a political ruling meant to interfere in the upcoming election. By doing so, the justices themselves have damaged the independence and fairness of the judiciary.

 

Even more troubling, the national election is just weeks away. Choosing candidates—and judging them—is the people’s right. By blocking a candidate through such a rushed ruling, the Court has essentially taken away the public’s right to vote freely.

 

In response, thousands of Koreans gathered again in front of the Supreme Court. They stood together, singing “March for the Beloved,” a song that has long symbolized the fight for democracy and justice in Korea.

 

Introducing "March for the Beloved"

 

This song was created to honor a young man and woman who stood up against injustice during the May 18 Democratic Uprising in Gwangju, South Korea. Both lost their lives at a young age before they ever had the chance to marry. To remember them, a symbolic wedding was held for their spirits, and this song was dedicated to them.

 

During the military dictatorship, March for the Beloved was banned. But today, it is sung widely at rallies organized by civic groups, labor unions, and student organizations. It is also sung collectively at public events—much like a national anthem—as a tribute to those who died in the May 18 Democratic Uprising and as a reaffirmation of the commitment to a deeper, more mature democracy.

 

The Korean lyrics and an English translation of March for the Beloved are provided below.

 

 

 

님을 위한 행진곡

March for the Beloved

사랑도 명예도 이름도 남김없이

[Sa-rang-do myeong-ye-do i-reum-do nam-gim eop-shi]

Without love, honor, or leaving our names behind

한평생 나가자던 뜨거운 맹세

[Han pyeong-saeng na-ga-ja-deon tteu-geo-un maeng-se]

The passionate pledge to go forth for our whole lives

동지는 간데없고 깃발만 나부껴

[Dong-ji-neun gan de eop-go git-bal-man na-bu-kkyeo]

Comrades are gone, only flags flutter

새날이 올 때까지 흔들리지 말자

[Sae na-ri ol ttae-kka-ji heun-deul-li-ji mal-ja]

Let us not waver until the new day comes

세월은 흘러가도 산천은 안다

[Se-wo-reun heul-leo-ga-do san-cheon-eun an-da]

Though time flows on, the mountains and streams remember

깨어나서 외치는 뜨거운 함성

[Kkae-eo-na-seo oe-chi-neun tteu-geo-un ham-seong]

The passionate shouts that awaken and cry out

앞서서 나가니 산 자여 따르라

[Ap-seo-seo na-ga-ni san ja-yeo tta-reu-ra]

We go forward, so you who live, follow us

앞서서 나가니 산 자여 따르라

[Ap-seo-seo na-ga-ni san ja-yeo tta-reu-ra]

We go forward, so you who live, follow us

 

Sheet Music and English Lyrics

 

Since I wasn’t able to access the official sheet music or English lyrics, I created my own English adaptation.

 

 

 

Why We Still Sing March for the Beloved

 

On December 3, 2024, martial law was suddenly declared late at night. But the people and members of the National Assembly joined forces and succeeded in lifting it within just three hours. At the time, we hoped that within a month or two, we would defeat the forces behind the rebellion and return to normal life.

 

For months, many of us struggled with sleepless nights caused by the constant stress of the ongoing insurrection. When Loon Suk-yeol, the leader of the rebellion, was finally impeached on April 4, 2025, we thought we could finally sleep peacefully again.

 

But soon we realized the struggle was far from over. The courts and prosecutors colluded to help the ringleader escape and are now trying to eliminate a leading presidential candidate through what many believe is a politically motivated trial. The rebellion continues in new forms.

 

As this long and exhausting fight drags on, many of us have asked ourselves difficult questions: Why must we follow the rules when those in power break them? Why should we uphold democracy when they trample it?

 

Yet, the people of South Korea have made their choice. We will not give up. We will not stoop to the tactics of those who betray justice and democracy. Instead, we will turn this crisis into a turning point—a moment to confront evil with good, to mature our democracy, and to transform our pain into purpose.

 

And we will keep singing March for the Beloved. Not just as a song of protest, but as a promise. A promise that the peaceful revolution the Korean people have built, through courage and unity, will not only defend our nation but inspire the world.