During the recent protests for the impeachment of South Korean President Yoon, light sticks—typically seen illuminating K-pop concerts—appeared in striking numbers, creating a contrast to the scene. Could this signify the beginning of the end for Korea’s entrenched, bipartisan politics that have long stalled democratic values?

The appearance of light sticks at the protests early this December—sparked by President Yoon’s declaration of martial law and culminating in his impeachment vote at the National Assembly in central Seoul—captured significant media attention. Carried predominantly by young women in their 20s and 30s, the light sticks were interpreted as a reflection of how the younger generation mobilizes and conveys their cultural values such as individual freedom, creativity, and personal choice in a highly political event calling for the president’s impeachment.  

While festivity in Korean protests is not new—often blending public speeches with sing-alongs—the presence of light sticks stands out as remarkably distinctive. This raises the question: could this signal the emergence of a new, politically engaged youth?

At the root of this political turmoil, triggered by the martial law decree, lies Korean bipartisan politics, which runs much deeper than a simple liberal-versus-conservative conflict. Its origins trace back to the Cold War era, when Korea faced starkly opposing paths: alignment with the U.S. or the restoration of the divided peninsula under a unified Korea. These entrenched partisan factions hold fundamentally divergent visions of Korean identity and, without compromise, have locked themselves in a zero-sum game where one side’s existence is perceived as a threat to the other.

This clash of disparate visions has acted as an all-consuming black hole, drawing in and distorting every issue—from environmental pollution to gender equality—into the framework of left-versus-right politics. Whatever the issue, once taken up by one side, it is reduced to a cheap tactic to gain popularity.

President Yoon’s drastic decision to impose martial law, followed by the swift move to impeach him for illegal actions, including instigating insurrection, likely reflects these deeply entrenched and divisive worldviews on Korea’s future. So, to rephrase the earlier question: could these young people with their light sticks signal a departure from this old, divisive politics?

There is no simple answer to this question. One can only speculate about their motives for entering such a hostile political battlefield by examining the light sticks and considering whether this marks the beginning of a new kind of politics.

For fans of K-pop in Korea, the light stick is a symbol of loyalty and adoration for their beloved pop acts. At concerts, fans often fill the venue, moving their light stick-bearing arms in unison to create a shimmering sea of light, swaying right and left. However, the light stick’s cultural lineage extends far beyond its role in K-pop fandom.

Most recently, Eun-young, the school nurse in the Netflix series The School Nurse Files, wields a plastic sword that lights up with bright colors to fight against “jellies”—playful yet disruptive entities that disturb the order of the world by meddling with human minds. Despite its toy-like appearance, Eun-young’s sword is a powerful weapon that destroys evil at its source and safeguards peace for humanity.

In this sense, Eun-young’s sword shares much in common with the magical wands of Sailor Moon and her predecessor, Sally from Sally the Witch. Both Sailor Moon’s and Sally’s wands possess astonishing powers to channel positive energy and disarm wicked foes. Visually, these wands closely resemble modern light sticks, suggesting that the light stick could be seen as a direct descendant of these relics from early anime heroines of the mysterious and magical realm.

It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to say that light sticks at concerts channel positive energy, galvanize spirits, and foster a sense of unity and friendly bonds. They provide a fantastic experience of becoming one under the banner of harmony and love, defying oppressive, old-world views. However, even such positive spiritual forces cannot escape the influence of politics. No matter how magical the experience of spiritual energies may seem, the initial need for them arises from a social context where politics is a dominant force. A positive life force can therefore trace back to its generative conditions and become a socially and politically active catalyst for action.

The first message Harry Potter receives at Hogwarts, through the house-sorting hat, is that what one desires matters more than the circumstances of one’s birth. The hat assigns him to Gryffindor because that’s where he wants to belong. This life-affirming, value-neutral theme remains consistent as Harry progresses into young adulthood. But this changes when Dolores Umbridge, from the Ministry of Magic, replaces Dumbledore as headmaster and imposes rigid rules to micromanage students’ behavior. She fills the walls with decrees dictating every aspect of life for Hogwarts’ young wizards and witches, evoking memories of Orwellian authoritarian regimes. When Harry forms Dumbledore’s Army and deliberately sabotages Umbridge’s rules, his magical world, conducted through his wand, becomes unmistakably political.

The light stick army at the impeachment protests has the choice to be political, but the direction of their decision remains open. They could be drawn into the vortex of Korean politics, where the left and right continue to clash over outdated nationalistic visions, should they choose to follow the old orders. Alternatively, they could lead us toward a new way of defining Korea and Korean values. Where they channel their positive life force could shape the future of Korean politics.