By Suhnwook Lee – BBC Korean, reporting from Seoul
Nearly five decades after the shocking assassination of President Park Chung-hee, South Korea is revisiting one of the darkest chapters in its modern history. The man responsible—Kim Jae-gyu, then head of the powerful Korea Central Intelligence Agency (KCIA)—was executed in 1980 for murdering the president. Now, 46 years later, a retrial is underway to determine whether Kim’s actions were treasonous or the desperate act of a patriot trying to save his country from tyranny.

A Night That Shook the Nation

On 26 October 1979, a quiet dinner at a government “safe house” turned into a moment that would change South Korea forever. At approximately 7:40 p.m., gunshots rang out. Kim Jae-gyu, once a trusted confidant of Park and a key figure in maintaining his authoritarian regime, pulled out a pistol and shot the president in the chest, later finishing him with a shot to the head. He also killed Park’s influential security chief, Cha Ji-cheol.

That night, as KCIA agents gunned down the president’s guards, chaos erupted. Though Kim initially returned to KCIA headquarters, he was quickly arrested after a brief stop at the army command.

The Original Verdict: Treason and Execution

Following a swift trial in a military court—held under martial law imposed days after the assassination—Kim was convicted of insurrection. He and four others were hanged in May 1980. Two others involved in the plot were imprisoned, one of whom was Yoo Seok-sul, a KCIA security guard who hid the murder weapons on command.

Kim’s family, particularly his sister Kim Jung-sook, has fought for years to clear his name. She argues that the original trial was politically motivated and fundamentally flawed. The retrial, which began this week at Seoul High Court, could redefine his legacy.

Motives Under Scrutiny

Kim’s motivations have long been the subject of debate. Was he a power-hungry insider betrayed by the president he once served? Or did he act to prevent greater bloodshed?

Kim claimed in court that he assassinated Park to stop an impending massacre of pro-democracy demonstrators and to steer South Korea toward democratic reform. He warned Park against cracking down on protests and opposed the hardline stance of Cha Ji-cheol. Kim feared the president’s increasing ruthlessness would damage South Korea’s relationship with the U.S. and plunge the country into chaos.

In contrast, sceptics argue that Kim’s motives were selfish. They point to his declining influence in the Park regime and the absence of a concrete plan for a political transition after the assassination. The firearm he used malfunctioned, the operation was poorly executed, and he failed to secure control of government institutions—suggesting a lack of strategic foresight.

A Retrial Fueled by Democratic Reflection

The decision to retry Kim was triggered in part by a broader reassessment of South Korea’s democratic journey. A recent political crisis involving former President Yoon Suk Yeol—who is now facing a treason trial for ordering martial law—has reopened questions about the limits of presidential power and the military’s role in governance.

Kim’s lawyer, Lee Sang-hee, argues that his original trial violated due process. The proceedings occurred under martial law, with no public oversight, and transcripts show evidence of torture. Kim’s appeal documents detail brutal interrogations using beatings and electric shocks. His family members were also reportedly tortured, though the government denied these claims.

The Seoul High Court accepted the case for retrial earlier this year, citing the likelihood of coerced confessions and an unfair legal process.

A Controversial Legacy

Both Park Chung-hee and Kim Jae-gyu remain polarizing figures in South Korea. Park is credited with jumpstarting the country’s rapid industrial growth, but his 18-year rule was marked by severe human rights abuses and the dismantling of democratic institutions. His daughter, Park Geun-hye, served as president decades later, before being impeached in a corruption scandal—an event that, ironically, helped revive interest in re-evaluating Kim’s conviction.

For Kim Jae-gyu’s supporters, the retrial is not about glorifying an assassin but about uncovering the truth behind his actions. His family insists that he acted not for personal gain but to stop what he saw as the beginning of a violent dictatorship.

“I believe he shot not out of ambition, but out of desperation,” said Kim Jung-sook. “He was a man of principle who made a painful decision to protect the nation.”

Justice or Justification?

The court’s verdict, expected in the coming months, may not settle the debate over Kim’s intentions. But it is a rare opportunity for South Korea to reflect on its turbulent path from dictatorship to democracy.

As lawyer Lee Sang-hee puts it, “This is not just about Kim Jae-gyu. It’s about confronting a painful past and deciding what justice looks like in a democracy still shaped by that past.”

Whether Kim will be remembered as a traitor or a tragic hero remains to be seen. But for now, history is being rewritten—not by force, but by law.