A Seoul court sentenced former Interior and Safety Minister Lee Sang-min to seven years in prison after finding him guilty of participating in an insurrection tied to the Dec. 3, 2024, declaration of martial law by then-President Yoon Suk Yeol.

The court concluded that Lee played a significant functional role in the episode by receiving instructions from Yoon and relaying orders to police and fire authorities to cut electricity and water to specific media outlets. Evidence cited in the ruling included a document concerning utility cuts that the court said Lee received from Yoon, CCTV footage showing Lee reading a document in the presidential office on the night of the martial law declaration, phone records noted by prosecutors, and testimony from former National Fire Agency Commissioner Heo Seok-gon that Lee had instructed utility cuts. The court also convicted Lee of perjury for testimony given at Yoon’s impeachment trial in the Constitutional Court, where Lee denied ordering or receiving orders for utility cuts.

The judges described actions by Yoon and former Defense Minister Kim Yong-hyun — including an effort to physically block the National Assembly, attempts to block access to the main opposition party headquarters, and an attempted warrantless raid on the National Election Commission — as aimed at disrupting the constitutional order and preventing the National Assembly from exercising its authority. The court treated those findings about Yoon’s and Kim’s conduct as the basis for convicting Lee and characterized the Dec. 3 events as a top-down “self-coup” attempt that suspended civil liberties in Seoul and granted authorities broad powers to control movement, communications, and access to government facilities. The court said those measures were not prompted by an immediate security threat.

The court acquitted Lee on a separate abuse-of-power charge tied specifically to forcing fire officials to perform tasks connected to the utility cuts, finding insufficient evidence that frontline fire stations were prepared to carry out such police requests or that orders were given to the Seoul Metropolitan Fire and Disaster Headquarters. The judges also noted that Lee’s legal background made it likely he understood the martial law declaration was unconstitutional and that he did not attempt to dissuade Yoon from that course of action.

Prosecutors had sought a 15-year sentence, arguing Lee relayed orders to police and fire authorities and failed to oppose the declaration despite his responsibility for public safety. Lee denied the allegations throughout the trial, disputed characterizations of the declaration as an insurrection, and said he had no prior knowledge or role in any planned scheme. Lee has been in custody since a court approved his arrest in August.

The ruling follows related prosecutions arising from the special counsel’s investigation into the martial law declaration, including a separate conviction of former Prime Minister Han Duck-soo, who received a 23-year sentence. The court’s legal characterization of the Dec. 3 events as an insurrection is expected to be relevant to ongoing proceedings against Yoon, who faces charges in connection with the same episode.

Original Sources: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 (seoul) (insurrection) (perjury) (authoritarianism) (coup) (entitlement)

Actionable information: The article is a legal-news report detailing a court verdict and the facts the court relied on. It does not give a reader step‑by‑step course of action, clear choices to follow, or practical tools they can use immediately. A reader cannot, for example, use the report to protect themselves, change legal outcomes, or exercise a specific civic procedure. It does refer to specific types of evidence (documents, CCTV, testimony) but only as part of the court’s reasoning, not as resources the public can access or use. In short: the piece offers factual narration of a trial and verdict, not actionable instructions.

Educational depth: The article gives a sequence of findings (what the court concluded Lee did, what evidence was cited, which charges were convicted or dismissed) but it remains at the level of summaries and conclusions. It explains what the court considered important—for example, documentary evidence, CCTV, witness testimony, and legal awareness of constitutionality—but it does not unpack the legal standards the court applied in detail, nor does it explain the specific elements of the insurrection charge, how martial-law declarations are assessed under Korean law, or the legal burden for proving conspiracy or perjury. There are details about evidence used, but the piece does not analyze how that evidence was weighed, the legal tests for participation in an insurrectionist group, or the procedural context (appeals process, standards of review). Therefore it teaches more than a headline but not enough for someone to understand the underlying legal mechanisms or to use the information legally or procedurally.

Personal relevance: For most readers the article is of informational or political interest rather than directly affecting safety, finances, or personal legal responsibilities. It could matter more to people directly involved (legal professionals, participants in the case, or citizens concerned about constitutional stability), but for the average reader it is a report about events in another person’s criminal case. The relevance is limited unless the reader lives in the same jurisdiction and has a specific need to know how similar charges might be applied to them.

Public service function: The article performs a basic public-service function by reporting on a court decision surrounding the rule of law and the conduct of high public officials, which is important for democratic accountability. However, it does not offer public safety guidance, emergency instructions, or practical information the public could use to act responsibly in a crisis. It does not explain how members of the public could verify official orders during emergencies or what to do if confronted with unlawful directives from authorities. Thus its public-service value is informational but limited.

Practical advice: The article does not provide practical, realistically applicable advice. It recounts alleged orders to cut utilities and a court’s conclusion about criminal responsibility, but it gives no guidance on what media organizations, emergency services, or ordinary citizens should do to protect themselves in similar circumstances or how to respond if ordered to comply with questionable directives.

Long-term impact: The article documents a potentially significant legal precedent involving high-level officials and insurrection allegations, which could have long-term political and legal implications. However, it does not analyze those potential precedents or suggest how citizens, institutions, or lawmakers might respond or prepare. So while the subject could be consequential, the piece itself does not help readers plan ahead or change behavior in a practical way.

Emotional and psychological impact: The account may provoke concern, alarm, or political anger because it involves accusations that top officials attempted to subvert constitutional processes. But it provides no tools for readers to process that worry constructively, such as how to verify information, engage civically, or seek credible updates. The article risks leaving readers with heightened anxiety and no clear way to respond.

Clickbait or sensational language: From the summary provided, the article appears to report serious allegations and court findings without obvious hyperbolic framing. It centers on the court’s findings and evidence rather than sensational speculation. That said, reporting on dramatic topics like “insurrection” and “martial law” naturally draws attention; the piece’s value depends on whether it stays tied to verifiable facts and quoted findings rather than ungrounded assertions. Based on the description, it mainly sticks to court conclusions and evidence.

Missed opportunities to teach or guide: The article missed several chances to help readers understand the broader context and practical implications. It could have explained the legal standard for insurrection in that jurisdiction, how martial-law declarations are legally reviewed, what constitutes participation in an insurrectionist group, and the typical appeals process after a conviction. It could also have offered guidance for institutions on safeguarding constitutional processes, or for ordinary citizens on how to respond to emergency orders from authorities if they suspect those orders are unlawful.

Practical, realistic guidance the article did not provide

If you are trying to assess or respond to claims about unlawful orders or abuses of power, start by checking whether an order is in writing, identifies the issuing authority, and cites a clear legal basis. Unclear, undocumented, or orally given commands are harder to defend and easier to challenge later. Preserve any documentary evidence, timestamps, and witnesses if you must document what happened; contemporaneous records are the most useful in legal and administrative reviews. Rely on institutional channels first: report questionable orders up the chain of command, invoke internal review or legal counsel, and use official complaint mechanisms. If you are an employee asked to carry out a potentially unlawful order, ask for the order in writing, state your concerns calmly to the issuer, and seek advice from your union or legal counsel before acting. For media organizations or other critical services, build simple redundancy plans for utilities and communications: keep basic backups, document chain of custody for interviews and business continuity plans, and have a contact list for legal and regulatory help. As a citizen trying to stay informed about high‑level legal developments, prefer primary sources when possible (court rulings, official statements) and compare multiple independent news outlets to avoid relying on a single account. Finally, when news provokes fear or anger, channel that energy into constructive steps such as contacting representatives, participating in lawful civic activity, or supporting independent institutions that safeguard democratic processes rather than reacting impulsively to sensational reports.

"The court concluded that Lee instructed the National Fire Agency to cooperate in cutting electricity and water to specific media outlets and found his actions constituted participation in an insurrectionist group that included Yoon and former Defense Minister Kim Yong-hyun." This sentence states conclusions as facts without attributing uncertainty beyond "concluded" and "found." It helps the prosecution’s side by presenting conviction findings as the definitive truth. It hides that these are legal findings subject to appeal by not saying they are court determinations rather than incontrovertible facts.

"The court determined that Yoon and Kim sought to physically block the National Assembly and the main opposition party headquarters and attempted a warrantless raid of the National Election Commission, actions the court said aimed to disrupt the constitutional order and prevent the National Assembly from exercising its authority." The phrase "aimed to disrupt the constitutional order" frames intent as settled fact based on the court's statement. It favors the court’s interpretation of motive and downplays that motive is often disputed. This wording leads readers to accept intent as proven rather than as the court’s legal conclusion.

"Evidence cited by the court included a document concerning utility cuts that the court said Lee received from Yoon, CCTV footage showing Lee reading a document in the presidential office on the night of the martial law declaration, and testimony from former National Fire Agency Commissioner Heo Seok-gon that Lee had instructed cuts of power and water to several media outlets." Listing the evidence in a single sentence emphasizes the weight and variety of proof and nudges readers to see the conviction as well supported. This selection order can boost perceived credibility: document, CCTV, testimony. It hides any contradictory evidence or weaknesses in those items by not mentioning them.

"The court also convicted Lee of perjury for testimony given at Yoon’s impeachment trial in the Constitutional Court, where Lee denied ordering or receiving orders for utility cuts." This phrase links Lee’s denial to a perjury conviction, compressing denial and criminal finding into one idea. It pushes readers to view Lee’s prior statement as proven false. It omits any context about what was claimed, why the court found it false, or whether the perjury finding is contested.

"The court acquitted Lee on a separate charge of abuse of power related to forcing fire officials to perform tasks connected to the utility cuts, finding insufficient evidence to show frontline fire stations were prepared to carry out such police requests or that orders were given to the Seoul Metropolitan Fire and Disaster Headquarters." Using "finding insufficient evidence" frames that charge as weaker while still centering the court’s judgment. This balances one acquittal against several convictions, but the structure still foregrounds convictions and may soften the acquittal’s mitigating weight by explaining why it failed without noting possible alternative interpretations.

"The court said Lee’s legal background made him aware that the martial law declaration was unconstitutional, and noted the absence of any attempt by Lee to dissuade Yoon from that course of action." This links professional background to presumed knowledge and failure to act, which attributes motive or culpability by inference. It helps the prosecution’s narrative by implying deliberate acquiescence. The wording does not show any counter-evidence that Lee tried to dissuade Yoon, so it omits mitigating facts if any existed.

Overall choice of repeated "the court" attribution throughout gives the court’s version continuous voice, which centers one institution’s perspective and sidelines other voices like Lee’s defense. This repeated framing helps the judicial narrative and hides alternative perspectives by not quoting or summarizing defense arguments.

The text conveys several clear emotional tones through its description of events and legal judgments. Foremost is a strong sense of alarm and seriousness, expressed through phrases like "insurrection," "declaration of emergency martial law," "physically block," "attempted a warrantless raid," and "disrupt the constitutional order." These words carry high-intensity negative emotion because they describe grave threats to democratic institutions and public order; their presence makes the situation feel urgent and dangerous and pushes the reader to view the actions as extreme and harmful. Closely tied to that alarm is a feeling of blame and condemnation. The court’s conclusions—that Lee "instructed the National Fire Agency to cooperate in cutting electricity and water" and that he "participat[ed] in an insurrectionist group"—use definitive legal language that signals guilt and moral culpability. This is a moderate-to-strong emotion evoked by authoritative wording (a court’s sentencing and findings), and it serves to persuade the reader that wrongdoing occurred and that punishment was justified. The account also communicates disappointment or moral disapproval by noting Lee’s legal training and the court’s observation that he "was aware that the martial law declaration was unconstitutional" and "did not dissuade Yoon." This framing creates a quieter but firm sense of reproach: it implies betrayal of professional duty and ethical standards, nudging readers toward a judgment that the defendant failed in expected responsibilities. There is a sense of procedural finality and gravity in reporting the seven-year sentence and the conviction for perjury; terms like "sentenced," "convicted," and "acquitted" have a neutral-to-serious emotional weight that signals resolution and consequence, guiding the reader to accept the legal outcome as decisive. Another emotion present is skepticism or doubt, evident where the court "acquitted Lee on a separate charge" and found "insufficient evidence" about certain orders; these phrases introduce restraint and suggest that not every allegation was proven. This moderates the overall narrative, giving readers a more nuanced reaction rather than pure condemnation. The text also carries an undercurrent of mistrust or concern about abuse of power—references to ordering utility cuts to media outlets and coordinating with security forces imply manipulation of state resources for political ends. That implication is emotionally charged at a moderate level and aims to make the reader wary of leaders who might misuse authority. Throughout, the writer uses specific emotional techniques to strengthen the impact. Charged legal and security terms are chosen instead of neutral descriptions, which heightens urgency and moral judgment. Concrete evidence details—mentioning a document "that Lee received from Yoon," CCTV footage of Lee reading a document, and testimony from a named commissioner—are presented to make the accusations feel tangible and believable; this use of specific facts increases emotional weight by turning abstract wrongdoing into concrete acts. Repetition of misconduct themes (orders to cut utilities, coordinated actions to block institutions, attempts to raid an election body) reinforces the sense of a coordinated threat and magnifies concern. The contrast between convictions and the acquittal is used to add credibility and balance, preventing the piece from seeming purely accusatory while still emphasizing that serious wrongdoing was found; this measured contrast can increase trust in the court’s findings and in the reporting. Overall, the emotional choices steer the reader toward seeing the events as dangerous, blameworthy, and consequential, while allowing a limited space for nuance where the court found insufficient evidence.