Free Mother Han! Free Pastor Son! Confronting South Korea’s Crisis of Democracy
The leader of the Family Federation and the respected pastor of Busan’s Segero Church are not detained “according to Korean law” but in violation of it.
by Massimo Introvigne
Young members of the Family Federation sing for freedom and the release of Mother Han. From X.
On October 4, Chance Son, son of Pastor Son Hyun-bo, issued a sobering message: “My family went for a 10-minute visitation earlier today, my dad has caught the flu, and his voice is almost gone. He won’t be able to get a prescription and medicine until about 10 days later. Please pray that his health doesn’t get worse.” This is not a dispatch from a totalitarian regime—it’s from South Korea, a democracy that now seems to be testing the elasticity of that term.
Pastor Son is not alone. Mother Hak Ja Han Moon, the 82-year-old revered leader of the Family Federation for World Peace and Unification (formerly the Unification Church), known to millions as the Mother of Peace, is also behind bars. Her treatment, as openly advertised by the prosecution, is nothing short of psychological warfare. According to official statements reported by Korean media, she “first appeared on the 17th of last month [September] and was questioned for about 9 hours and 30 minutes, and then was questioned for 4 hours and 30 minutes and 10 hours and 20 minutes on the 24th and 29th of the same month, respectively.” That’s nearly 25 hours of interrogation in under two weeks. Her answers have not changed. The facts have not changed. What is changing is her health, her safety, and the credibility of South Korea’s legal system.
Mother Han’s case is somewhat surreal. The charges suggest that she used church resources to support politicians, including the disgraced former President of South Korea, and improperly influenced elections. Yet no credible evidence has been presented to show that she personally directed such activities. The Family Federation has consistently maintained that Mother Han’s role was spiritual, not political. The accusation that she orchestrated mass political enrollment of Family Federation members into the People Power Party (PPP), which is now in the opposition, has already collapsed under its own weight. The prosecution first claimed 110,000 members had joined en masse. That figure has now been quietly revised to 3,500, as reported by local media. But this is only one thread in a tangled web of allegations.
The prosecution’s strategy appears less about proving a coherent case and more about exhausting the accused. Interrogating an elderly religious leader with known health issues for nearly 25 hours over two weeks, despite consistent testimony, is not a pursuit of truth—it is psychological attrition. It violates both the spirit and the letter of international human rights law.
Pastors and elders in Busan ask for the release of Pastor Son, supported by Rob McCoy, longtime pastor of Godspeak Calvary Chapel in California.
Pastor Son’s case is similarly distorted. He is accused of encouraging his congregation to vote for PPP candidates. Voting is a protected right in any democracy. Encouraging others to vote—especially for candidates that align with one’s values—is not a crime. It’s political speech. Yet Pastor Son has been jailed under the pretext that his sermons and church activities constituted illegal electioneering.
Even if one were to accept the prosecution’s interpretation, precedent is damning to their case. In previous instances where religious figures were found to have breached electoral norms, the penalties were modest fines, not incarceration. What happens in Korea signals a shift from rule-of-law enforcement to ideological punishment.
President Lee, when confronted by President Trump during his U.S. visit about “vicious raids on churches,” responded that the Korean judiciary acts according to Korean law. That statement is demonstrably false.
Under South Korean law, pre-trial detention is permitted only in cases of risk of flight or destruction of evidence. Mother Han has been stripped of her passport, and Pastor Son is a public figure with deep roots in Korea. Neither has attempted to flee. As for evidence, their churches and offices have been raided repeatedly. Computers, documents, phones—everything that could be seized has been seized. What remains to destroy? A hymn book?
Moreover, Korea is bound by international law. It has ratified the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), which in Article 9 prohibits arbitrary detention and mandates that pre-trial detention be exceptional, not routine. These principles are elaborated in the UN Standard Minimum Rules for Non-custodial Measures (Tokyo Rules) and the UN Standard Minimum Rules for the Treatment of Prisoners (Nelson Mandela Rules).
The Tokyo Rules emphasize that detention before trial should be used only when strictly necessary, and alternatives should be prioritized. They warn against using detention to extract confessions or punish individuals before conviction. The Nelson Mandela Rules mandate humane treatment of prisoners, access to medical care, and protection from psychological abuse. South Korea is violating both.
Let us be precise. The prolonged interrogations of Mother Han, despite her consistent testimony, are not a search for truth—they are psychological torture. Pastor Son’s untreated health issues, in a facility that delays basic medical care for ten days, is not an oversight—it is neglect. These are not isolated incidents. They are symptoms of a broader crisis.
This crisis is not limited to religious leaders. Political figures have been arrested. Protesters opposing President Lee’s pro-China policies have faced intimidation and restrictions. The streets of Seoul have seen mass demonstrations, yet the government’s response has been silence, surveillance, and suppression.
What we are witnessing is not just a legal overreach—it is a democratic backslide. The rule of law is being weaponized against dissent. Religious freedom is being redefined as a threat. Civic participation is being criminalized. And all of this is happening in a country that claims to be a beacon of democracy in East Asia.
The case of Mother Han also reveals a troubling transnational dimension. It is now evident that her arrest is part of a coordinated campaign between South Korea and Japan to dismantle the Family Federation. In March 2025, a first-degree court decision in Japan ordered the dissolution of the church—a ruling currently under appeal. The United Nations has formally warned Japan that such a move may violate international law. South Korea’s treatment of Mother Han and other religious leaders may constitute even more serious violations. Arbitrary detention, coercive interrogation, and the criminalization of religious leadership are not only incompatible with democratic norms—they are incompatible with the international legal obligations Korea has pledged to uphold.
The international community must respond, the United Nations must investigate, and human rights organizations must speak out. Silence is complicity.
Friends of religious freedom and human dignity worldwide must rally around a simple, urgent cry: Free Mother Han! Free Pastor Son!
Because if democracy means anything, it must mean justice—even for those whose faith, voice, or conscience challenge the powers that be.