Hanmin High School, located in Paju, Gyeonggi Province. It was established in 2014 as a general private high school to provide educational stability for the children of military personnel, who move frequently. [Photo = Hanmin High School]

It is a strange country. Successful schools should be supported, and troubled schools should be reformed. This is common sense, even to an elementary school student. Yet, the Republic of Korea is currently moving in the opposite direction. There is an insistence on converting Hanmin High School, established for the children of military personnel, into a public school.

Why? The government speaks of "public accountability" and "operational stability." However, the public is asking a different question: What exactly was wrong with Hanmin High School?

Hanmin High School is not a failed institution. On the contrary, it is a rare success story. Established to support children who struggle to maintain their studies due to their parents' frequent reassignments, it has achieved top-tier university admission results nationwide despite its short history. It has consistently produced excellent talent for Seoul National University, medical, dental, and pharmacy programs, science and technology specialized universities like KAIST, as well as the Army, Navy, and Air Force academies.

If that is the case, the state's duty is clear: to learn from this success and foster further development. Instead, the government is choosing the exact opposite path. It intends to change the operational framework.

Policies always entail costs. Therefore, the public has the right to ask, "How will changing the current system result in something better than what we have now?" The government has yet to provide an answer that satisfies the public.

Even more noteworthy is the consistency of policy logic. The school remains the same, yet the assessment of it has shifted. This leads the public to wonder if it is the school that has changed, or the criteria of the policy itself.

Hanmin High School was created for military families serving in various parts of the country. However, there are claims that the current nationwide enrollment and educational system can be maintained even after conversion to a public school.

The public cannot help but ask again: Is that actually possible under current laws and regulations? If it is, it is the responsibility of the government promoting this policy to explain the legal basis; if it is impossible, it must explain what exactly they intend to change and how.

Even more difficult to understand is the change in attitude among the officials driving this policy. The August issue of Monthly Chosun reported that while Minister of National Defense Ahn Gyu-back previously sympathized with the purpose of Hanmin High School’s establishment, he has come to view it as "the foundation for a second '12/3 rebellion'" since taking office. If this report is true, the public is compelled to ask even deeper questions.

Hanmin High School, located in Paju, Gyeonggi Province. It was established in 2014 as a general private high school to provide educational stability for the children of military personnel, who move frequently. [Photo = Hanmin High School]

Has the school changed? Or has the political lens through which the school is viewed changed? This is not a trivial question.

Some media outlets, including Monthly Chosun, are raising doubts about whether political motives are behind this push for publicization. Such concerns should not be dismissed as mere political maneuvering. The government must respond to the public’s questions with objective grounds and logic.

It is only natural for the public to question why, in a situation where livelihood issues are piling up, the government is pushing for the publicization of Hanmin High School—an institution that should serve as a national asset—after having already transferred the NIS’s anti-communist investigative authority to the police, dismantled the Defense Security Support Command, and disparaged the Korea Military Academy.

Democracy does not fear questions. Rather, democracy weakens when questions are suppressed.

The reason for public suspicion is simple: they are trying to fix a model that has already been proven successful. If the government truly wants to strengthen education for military children, it should first explain how it plans to enhance the existing strengths. Instead, the first thing they have presented is a change in the operational structure.

Policies are evaluated by their results, not their justifications. If Hanmin High School is faithfully fulfilling its purpose of educating military children, any change that could undermine that mission must be subjected to even stricter scrutiny.

A nation must not just pay lip service to respecting its military; it demonstrates sincerity by how it protects the educational environment for their children.

The government should not ask the public to "just trust us"; it must prove "why the change is necessary." That is the duty of those driving policy in a democratic nation.

The school has not changed; the administration has. Thus, rather than suspecting the school, the public must first ask why the policy standards have shifted.

Power becomes healthy when it is questioned, and the public preserves its freedom when it asks questions. That is the most basic principle that liberal democracy has taught us.

The Hanmin High School controversy is no longer just about the existence of a single school. It is a litmus test showing what the state intends to protect—and what it intends to change. And so, the public asks: Who is actually afraid of Hanmin High School?

◆ Jung Sung-hong

Chairman, Hanmi Ilbo

Former National Intelligence Service Official