July 7, 2026, will be recorded in history as the day freedom in South Korea's online public sphere effectively died. On this day, the amendment to the Act on Promotion of Information and Communications Network Utilization and Information Protection, etc. (hereinafter referred to as the "Information and Communications Network Act"), pushed through by the Democratic Party of Korea, officially went into effect.

While the government and the ruling party glorify this as an "Eradication of False and Manipulated Information Act" or an "Anti-Cyber Wrecker Act," it is clearly a "gag law on the public"—a dictatorial attempt to root out criticism of and challenges to those in power.

Extremely Vague and Broad Definitions

The core of the amended law is that if content deemed "illegal information" or "false/manipulated information" by a court is distributed two or more times, not only the intentional disseminators but also the distribution entities—such as platforms, media outlets, and YouTubers—can be held liable for punitive damages of up to five times the actual loss. Furthermore, malicious and repeated acts can result in administrative fines of up to 1 billion won.

For large-scale platforms (Naver, Kakao, Google, Meta, etc.), the obligations for receiving and processing reports have been significantly strengthened, and government agencies such as the Korea Communications Commission will effectively exercise powers of surveillance and supervision.

Though it claims to protect the public, the essence of the problem lies in the fact that the definition of "false and manipulated information" is extremely vague and broad. The criteria—information that is entirely or partially inconsistent with the truth, or that could be misunderstood as fact—provide ample room to encompass political arguments, the raising of suspicions, and even historical interpretations. Although the government and ruling party excuse this by claiming that "simple expressions of opinion or criticism are not subject to regulation," this is a sophism that ignores reality.

Who decides what is "false," and based on what criteria? Ultimately, it creates a structure where, under the guise of court rulings, power-linked institutions handle primary filtering, while platforms engage in excessive self-censorship.

Such laws are by no means new. Much like China’s Great Firewall, those in power have always suppressed opposition under the pretext of "eradicating fake news." The People Power Party has characterized this as a "modern-day book burning," warning of constitutional appeals and full-scale revisions. Figures like Representative Han Dong-hoon have labeled the law "unconstitutional," and tens of thousands have expressed their opposition through public petitions.

The true purpose of this law is to serve as a shield to cover up the regime's failures and suspicions. It is easy for columns, YouTube videos, and social media posts criticizing the 80-year pattern of pro-North Korean, leftist forces—which has continued since the Moon Jae-in administration—to be branded as "false." This includes the 1945 praise for Kim Il-sung and the "national liberation war" framing of the Korean War, the pursuit of Juche ideology, the denial of the 1990s famine, the failure of the Sunshine Policy, and selective silence on North Korean human rights issues.

Paralysis of the Public's Right to Know and Power Monitoring

Historical debates regarding the May 18 Gwangju Democratization Movement, failures in real estate policy (price spikes and the LH scandal), disasters in North Korea and security policy, and the various suspicions recently emerging under the Lee Jae-myung administration could all become broad targets. Even support for the colonial modernization theory or historical analysis from a New Right perspective could easily be labeled as "inciting hatred" or "manipulation."

Platform operators, fearing fines and business disadvantages, will likely engage in preemptive, excessive censorship. Already, the phrase "This content cannot be verified according to the law" is spreading like a trend on some sites.

Consequently, the public sphere will freeze, and the public's right to know and the ability to monitor those in power will be paralyzed. Freedom of expression, guaranteed by Article 21 of the Constitution, is the core of democracy; trampling on it under the pretext of "public protection" is a clear violation of the Constitution.

Looking back at history, such laws never only target fake news. From the criticism of reforms by late Joseon Dynasty scholars to the voices of independence activists during the Japanese colonial period, and the shouts of the 1987 democratic movement, those in power have always shut mouths while shouting about "order" and "protection."

In 2026, South Korea is repeating the same mistakes of the digital age. This law, which gained momentum after the launch of the Lee Jae-myung regime, uses the proliferation of AI and the issue of "cyber wreckers" as excuses, but its true targets are the opposition party, the conservative bloc, and the free expression of suspicion and criticism by citizens. When even the process of sharing and verifying doubts through collective intelligence is blocked, society loses transparency, and corruption and self-righteousness take hold.

July 7 is not merely an enforcement date for a law. It marks the beginning of a dark era symbolizing the retreat of South Korean democracy. The People Power Party and the conservative camp must pursue constitutional appeals and a full-scale revision as party policy. Citizens, creators, and journalists should not succumb to excessive self-censorship and must continue to provide fact-based criticism.

This law will eventually face the judgment of history. A regime that suppresses the truth under the guise of eradicating misinformation will crumble before the anger of the people. Protecting freedom of expression is the path to protecting South Korea itself.

◆ Songsan Jeong Gwang-je

A poet and researcher of history and philosophy. Former director of the Rhee Syngman Institute. Currently active as a research advisor at the Korea Modern and Contemporary History Research Association and representative of the philosophy forum Lyceum. He has published four volumes of poetry, co-translated "Heroes of Hook Ridge," and authored humanities books such as "The Joseon That Became a Myth," "Humanities on Tatami," and "A Liberal’s Reading of Gramsci." "Songsan" is his pen name.