UNJournal 이성준 | As the curtailment of prosecutorial investigative powers and the debate over dismantling the Prosecutor's Office have moved from theory to reality, South Korea's criminal justice system stands at a crossroads of fundamental transformation. With investigative power shifting toward the police, the force is no longer a supporting institution — it is now the central actor in national investigation, accountable for both its authority and its results. Yet expanded authority does not automatically translate into public trust. How the police handle the weighty demands of investigative expertise, political neutrality, and checks on power will determine whether reform succeeds or fails. Korea Local Governance sat down with Lee Myungkyo — former Chief of the South Chungcheong Provincial Police Agency and currently a practicing attorney — for an in-depth examination of the direction Korean police must take following the redistribution of investigative authority, and the institutional challenges that lie ahead.
Q. After the reduction of prosecutorial investigative powers, is Korea's police force prepared to stand as the nation's primary investigative body?
A. The curtailment of prosecutorial investigative authority and the debate over dismantling the Prosecutor's Office are by no means a "victory" for the police. I would say, rather, that the police have been placed on an extremely harsh testing ground. An expansion of authority means, simultaneously, a far greater degree of accountability and scrutiny. For a long time, the police served as the "hands and feet" of investigation under the direction of prosecutors. But now the police must take on the role of the "brain" — judging the direction of cases and bearing responsibility through to their conclusion. This is not merely an expansion of authority; it is tantamount to a declaration that the police have become the party responsible for the very essence of investigation.
That said, one point must be made clear. The redistribution of investigative authority is not a system designed for the benefit of the police. It is a choice made to realize the constitutional value of mutual checks and balances among the branches of power. The police have not become the protagonist — the people have become the owners of this structure. The police are now at the stage where they must prove themselves not through argument, but through results. In particular, a sober self-assessment is necessary as to whether the police have accumulated sufficient expertise and experience in areas such as corruption, economic, and financial crime, where high-level legal judgment is required. At the same time, how to shield the investigation process from the political pressures that grow alongside concentrated investigative power is an equally important challenge. In the end, what matters most is public trust.
Expanded authority does not automatically bring trust. More important is how the police will address the anxiety surrounding uncontrolled power — what some might call fears of a "police state." The public must be able to feel — not merely be told — that the police are not a power that violates human rights, but a public authority that protects them. I would put it this way: the owner of investigative authority is neither the prosecution nor the police. It belongs only to the people. The police are no longer at the stage of arguing "why we should hold investigative authority." The time has come to demonstrate, through practice, how much more safe and just our investigations make people's lives.
Q. Authority has grown — but is trust sufficient? The starting point of police reform
A. The most painfully pressing issue confronting the police today is that the scale of their authority and the weight of public trust have not yet come into balance. Changing the law to expand authority is possible through political will — but earning the trust of the people requires years of self-evident proof. The legitimacy of public authority does not flow from the text of laws. It flows from the consent of the people. The redistribution of investigative powers has placed a formidable tool in the hands of the police, but if the public cannot trust those investigations and suspects political bias, the results of those investigations will become not justice, but the starting point of yet another conflict. That is why I see trust not as the outcome of exercising authority, but as its prerequisite — the foundation upon which everything else must be built.
There is another concern: the anxiety surrounding what some call a "massive dinosaur police force." As the prosecution's direct investigative powers have been curtailed, an organization of 140,000 personnel — responsible for investigation, intelligence, and public order alike — has begun to be perceived as a single, consolidated power. The question "Didn't we create an even harder-to-control power in trying to stop the prosecution's monopoly?" is a reality we cannot dismiss.
There is only one way to address this anxiety: conduct investigations transparently and willingly accept external oversight and accountability. Without accumulated trust, the police will continue to be embroiled in controversy over the concentration of power. What the public feels most acutely is the investigation of everyday crimes. How quickly and fairly is the case I filed handled? This is the criminal justice the public actually experiences. Delays in investigation and controversy over a lack of expertise erode trust faster than anything else. If authority has expanded, the public must feel in their daily lives that case processing speed and legal rigor have expanded with it. The expansion of authority is not a gift given to the police — it is an assignment entrusted to them by the people. Power exercised without the collateral of trust will ultimately meet with public resistance.
Q. Is the investigative capacity of the police at a level that can replace the prosecution?
A. This is the most uncomfortable question for the police — but the one that must be answered most honestly. As someone who has watched the field for nearly thirty years, I will say plainly: we are still in a period of transition. The scope of police investigation has expanded enormously, but the question is whether qualitative proficiency has kept pace with that quantitative growth. The prosecution, with indictment as its goal, has always conducted investigations with an eye toward "cases that won't fall apart in court." The police, by contrast, have clear strengths in initial response and field operations, but it is difficult to say that experience in high-difficulty legal cases has accumulated sufficiently.
There is another problem: the severing of investigative careers. Amid frequent personnel transfers and a culture of avoiding investigative assignments, the accumulated experience of veteran investigators is not being retained within the organization. Investigation is work done by people — and in a structure where people don't stay, expertise cannot accumulate. The more important question is this: who will monitor the expanded investigative power, and how? Criticism of prosecutorial authority ultimately came down to the problem of oversight. The police are no exception. That is why strengthening investigative authority and democratic accountability must advance together, without fail.
Q. What takes priority over "strengthening expertise and reforming institutions" in police investigation?
A. Looking at this question as a former police commissioner and now as a practicing attorney, I am struck by the thought that the judicial system we are currently constructing resembles a building whose blueprint is magnificent — but whose materials have not yet been fully inspected.
After the redistribution of investigative authority, the scope of police responsibilities has expanded explosively. But when you go to the field, you hear a different story. The same voices keep coming: "There are too many cases," "There's no time to review," "The specialized cases are overwhelming." This is not a matter of will or attitude — it is a matter of proficiency.
Economic crime, financial crime, and power-abuse corruption cases cannot be resolved with a few training sessions and a handful of manuals. The ability to read tens of thousands of pages of records, structure the facts into a legal framework, and build a case that can withstand cross-examination in court ultimately comes from a single person's expertise. An institution can be reformed overnight, but developing one genuinely qualified specialist investigator takes a minimum of ten years.
The question is whether the police organization is structured to wait those ten years. In a system where capable investigators are moved to administrative roles or must leave the field to advance in rank, expertise cannot accumulate. A personnel framework is urgently needed in which duties are respected above rank, and expertise is evaluated above promotion. In the past, police training centered on arrest and enforcement. But we are now in an entirely different era. Investigators must now think, from the very beginning of a case: "How will this investigation look in court?" and "Does this procedure infringe upon the suspect's right to defense?" As an attorney reviewing cases, I find that the reasons investigations collapse are rarely dramatic. A single flaw in a search and seizure warrant, a minor procedural violation in taking a statement, an insufficient sensitivity to human rights — these can bring an entire case to ruin. There is only one way to prevent this: education. Education that raises the caliber of people, and institutions that keep those people from leaving the field.
Going forward, the success or failure of judicial reform will depend not on "what kind of institutions the police have," but on "how many thorough investigators, how many investigators sensitive to human rights, the police can field."
Q. Is the National Investigation Headquarters system functioning properly? — Achievements and limitations
A. The single biggest change since the National Investigation Headquarters (NIH) was launched is the creation of a structure in which the Commissioner General of the National Police Agency cannot directly issue orders on individual cases. This is a very significant change in the history of Korean policing. In the past, investigation and general public order fell under the same roof, and in politically sensitive cases there was clearly room for "signals from above" to filter down to the field. The NIH system has institutionally severed that link — and that represents a clear step forward. The establishment of a control tower for overseeing large-scale national cases is also something that can be assessed positively in the field.
However, when asked whether the system is truly as free internally as it appears to be externally, a question mark remains. The greatest limitation is still personnel and budget. Even if the NIH Director sets the direction of an investigation, the final authority over deploying personnel and executing budgets lies with the National Police Agency. For the NIH to function as a genuinely independent investigative body, two things must be completed: ▶ ① a separate budget authorization authority, and ▶ ② an independent personnel track that allows investigators to spend an entire career exclusively in investigation. Without these, the NIH will inevitably remain caught between "institutional independence" and "practical subordination."
Q. Can the relationship between police and prosecution move from competition to an era of cooperation?
A. On this question, I will speak directly. The relationship between police and prosecution must move away from "who wins and who loses," and toward "who can build a more complete criminal justice system." The conflicts of the past were not a problem of personalities — they were a structural problem. In a vertical structure in which the prosecution commanded and the police followed, grievances were bound to accumulate rather than cooperation. But the premise has already changed with the redistribution of investigative authority. The police are no longer a subordinate agency, and the prosecution no longer monopolizes the beginning and end of investigation.
The direction I see is clear. Investigation for the police; indictment and trial proceedings for the prosecution. This is not a distribution of power — it is a division of labor according to expertise. The police know the field best. No organization can match the police in initial response, intelligence, and operational mobility. The prosecution, on the other hand, specializes in completing the evidentiary and legal arguments in court. When the two work hand in hand, investigations become solid and indictments gain persuasive force.
The problem is reality. As a practicing attorney, I see cases delayed with some regularity due to ego clashes between police and prosecutors and repeated demands for supplementary investigation. The harm falls entirely on the public. Both victims and suspects are wounded by the waiting. That is why I believe a standing consultative structure is needed in which police and prosecutors confer together from the outset of an investigation. The question must shift from "Whose jurisdiction is this?" to "How can we get this right the first time?"
Q. Is a "police force independent from politics" — one that does not waver through changes of government — truly possible?
A. A police force completely independent from politics — a 100% political vacuum — is, in practical terms, unattainable. But that does not mean it is a problem to be abandoned. The realistic goal I have in mind is a single one: "Regardless of who is in power, the investigative principles of the police do not waver." The reason the police tend to be conscious of those in power is simple: personnel appointments. As long as personnel decisions are bound to politics, investigations will inevitably be susceptible to influence. That is why the starting point of independence is the depoliticization of personnel authority.
The Police Commission must function as a genuinely independent oversight body and serve as an institutional buffer that provides one more layer of scrutiny over the appointment of the Commissioner General and the NIH Director. Tenure must also be respected as tenure. The moment senior leadership is shaken simply because the administration has changed, the field immediately begins reading the room. All investigative directives must be documented. When a record exists of who gave what instruction, and when, and to what end, political pressure is naturally inhibited. In the end, the most powerful force protecting the police from politics is the internal pride of the force as a community of professionals. When personnel decisions and evaluations are based on merit, politics cannot easily reach the police.
Q. Balancing local public safety and national investigation — the direction of policing in an era of local autonomy
A. The key to balance is straightforward: standardize investigation; differentiate public safety. Investigations requiring a national response — murders, violent crimes, large-scale fraud, corruption cases — must maintain consistent standards and expertise nationwide, centered on the National Investigation Headquarters. Local public safety, however, must be different. The tourism-related safety needs of Jeju, the mountain safety concerns of Gangwon, the traffic challenges of the Seoul metropolitan area cannot all be addressed with the same manual. If local distinctiveness is not reflected in policing, residents' experience of public safety will inevitably suffer. I see community policing as belonging to the realm of "public safety welfare." Protecting the elderly living alone, children, women, and people with disabilities is far more effective when combined with welfare administration. Community police should be the nexus where local government administration and public authority meet.
Q. The shape of Korean policing ten years from now
A. Ten years from now, the police must be not the most powerful authority, but the most trusted public safety service institution.
First, it will be the era of uniformed legal professionals. The higher the legal comprehension of investigators, the fewer human rights violations will occur, and the higher the quality of investigations will be. Second, it will be a police force where AI-assisted investigation and human empathy coexist. Technology will be a baseline given, but the empathy to read the hearts of victims will become even more important. Third, it will be the consolidation of a system insulated from political winds. The question "Are the police watching out for the administration?" must itself disappear. Fourth, community policing will be embedded in the fabric of everyday life.
Q. Final remarks
A. I am reminded of the time, some thirty years ago, when I passed the bar examination and chose to become a frontline police officer rather than pursue the prestigious path of private legal practice. I went through countless field postings as a police officer, and today I stand in the courtroom as an attorney defending the rights of the accused. Even now, having left active service, the police remain my roots and my pride.
The current redistribution of investigative authority and organizational restructuring are by no means a power struggle between the police and the prosecution. At this juncture, I have three things I want to say to my colleagues still serving and to the Korean public:
▶ First, the pride of the uniform comes not from "authority," but from "capability." Only officers who study, document, and verify to the very end can protect the human rights of the people.
▶ Second, political neutrality is upheld not by institutions, but by integrity. The attitude — "I look only to the law and to principle" — must become the backbone of the police organizational culture.
▶ Third, the police must never forget the "field" and the "community." More important than grand central-level discourse is the peace of the neighborhood alleyway; more urgent than the investigation of prominent figures is the timely redress of the grievances of ordinary citizens.
I sincerely hope that the 140,000 officers of the Korean National Police Agency will navigate this period well and, ten years from now, be an institution even more deeply loved by the people. I, too, as a member of the legal community, pledge to remain an unflinching critic who offers necessary words of honest counsel — and a fellow traveler alongside the police on the path of justice.
PROFILE Lee Myungkyo — Managing Attorney, Law Firm Seung and Partners
- Deputy Commissioner, Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency
- Commissioner, South Chungcheong Provincial Police Agency (Senior Superintendent General)
- Investigation Bureau Chief, Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency
- Director of Investigation Planning, National Police Agency
- Chief, Cheongju Heungdeok Police Station, North Chungcheong Province (Police Superintendent)
- Chief, Investigation Division 1, Investigation Bureau, National Police Agency
- Chief, Intelligent Crime Investigation Division 1, Investigation Bureau, National Police Agency
- Chief, Hyehwa Police Station, Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency (Senior Superintendent)
- Chief, Special Investigation Division, Investigation Bureau, National Police Agency
- Chief, Dangjin Police Station, South Chungcheong Province
- Chief, Broad Area Investigation Unit, South Chungcheong Provincial Police Agency
- Entry into the police service: Recruited as Inspector (Gyeongjeong) following passage of the 38th Bar Examination (1999)
Contributed commentary. Translated by AI.
