On a humid Saturday night in Seoul, two groups stand just streets apart. One carries candles and placards demanding justice for women killed by men. The other, mostly young men, vent their anger on livestreams, claiming feminism has gone too far and left them behind. They never meet, yet they seem locked in constant battle, two Koreas within one.
This is the shape of South Korea’s so-called “gender war,” a bitter divide running through one of the world’s most modern societies. It plays out online and offline, in workplaces, on dating apps and even in courtrooms. At its heart are young people who feel bruised, ignored and unsafe in very different ways.
For women, the danger has been brutally real. According to The Guardian, in 2022, On Ji-goo was attacked and left permanently injured in a case that a court later ruled was driven by misogyny. Her name has become shorthand for a wider reality. Being female in South Korea can mean living with the risk of violence.
High-profile scandals such as the “Nth room,” where thousands of women and even minors were blackmailed and exploited in online chatrooms, have deepened this sense of vulnerability.
The daily indignities are quieter but no less corrosive: hidden spy cameras in public bathrooms, deepfake pornography that strips away dignity and the glass ceilings of workplaces where women remain underpaid.
As New Lines Magazine has reported, South Korea has also struggled with waves of digital sexual abuse, often leaving victims with little option. The anger these women carry has fuelled movements like “Escape the Corset,” rejecting traditional beauty standards and the “4B” movement, where some vow never to marry, date or bear children in protest.
The other side of the divide
Yet many young men say they feel trapped, too. South Korea’s economy is fiercely competitive, housing prices are sky high and stable jobs are hard to secure. For generations, men were expected to be providers. Now, many admit they cannot afford the role. Resentment festers when they see women gaining in education and career opportunities. Even while the East Asia Forum notes, official data still shows the country has one of the largest gender pay gaps in the OECD.
Online, this frustration curdles into hostility. The Guardian describes anti-feminist forums and YouTube channels where young men blame women for their struggles. Some believe feminism unfairly advantages women or accuse them of exploiting laws designed to protect equality. For these young men, feminism is not a shield against discrimination, but a sword pointed at them.
A society pulled apart
The clash is not just personal; it has been weaponised politically. Some politicians openly court young men’s anger, promising to abolish the Ministry of Gender Equality and cut back on women-focused programs. In response, feminist groups have mobilised harder, accusing leaders of pandering to misogyny.
Surveys reveal the scale of mistrust. According to reports, most South Korean men in their 20s now identify as anti-feminist. At the same time, large numbers of young women say they no longer feel safe around men. The divide has become so sharp that even dating apps are split: many women avoid anyone who calls themselves “anti-fem,” while men avoid those who support women’s rights.
The cost is visible in the country’s demographics. South Korea already has the lowest birth rate in the world. With men and women increasingly unwilling to date, marry or raise children together, the future feels precarious.
Glimmers of change
Amid the hostility, there are small signs of progress. Courts have begun explicitly naming misogyny as a motive in violent crimes. Grassroots groups are offering digital safety training for women and counselling for men who feel alienated by anti-feminist echo chambers, reports New Lines Magazine.
Some young people insist the divide is not inevitable. “Most of us are just tired,” one woman wrote on social media. “We want safety, respect and a chance at a normal life.”
A young man, replying anonymously, admitted, “We feel lost too. We want to be heard, not hated.”
These small exchanges suggest the war of words could one day soften into dialogue. But for now, South Korea remains a nation where gender has become a battle line, and where trust between men and women feels dangerously thin.
