Borrowed Power

Evan Swensen
February 20, 2026

Cedar Valley News – February 20, 2026
Borrowed Power
By: Dan Larson
From the fictional town of Cedar Valley, where characters from Quiet Echo continue to respond to real-world events.

A South Korean court sentenced former President Yoon Suk Yeol to life in prison Thursday for leading an insurrection against his own democracy. Prosecutors asked for death. The judge said life.

Fourteen months ago, Yoon went on television late at night and declared martial law. He sent soldiers to parliament by helicopter. Special forces broke windows to enter the chamber. Police blocked the doors. His defense minister ordered troops to drag lawmakers out of the building.

It lasted six hours.

One hundred ninety members of parliament broke through the military blockade, gathered in the chamber, and voted unanimously to lift the decree. Citizens rushed to the building and barricaded entrances with their bodies. Parliamentary staff used furniture to block hallways. By morning the martial law order was dead. By December fourteenth, Yoon was impeached. By April, the Constitutional Court removed him in a unanimous vote. This week, the court finished the job.

I sat on my front porch on Wednesday evening, reading the details. Rebecca brought two glasses of water and sat beside me. She asked what held my attention. I told her a president tried to seize power and his own people stopped him in six hours. She thought about it and said, “The building held because the people inside it held.”

She is right. And she said it better than I could.

I have been a stake president in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for eleven years. In our church, every leader serves for a season. A bishop serves for five years, sometimes longer. A stake president serves until he is released. No one campaigns. No one earns the office. You are called, you serve, and on one Sunday the visiting authority stands at the pulpit, thanks you for your service, and calls someone else.

The position never belonged to you. You borrowed it.

This is not just church governance. This is the moral architecture of every free society. Power is a loan. Leadership is stewardship. The office outlives the officer. The moment a leader believes the authority is his — not the people’s, not God’s — something breaks.

Yoon told the court his martial law decree was meant to “awaken the people.” The judge said his true intent was to paralyze the National Assembly and arrest his political opponents. There is a name for a leader who sends armed soldiers to silence the legislature. Every generation knows the name. History does not treat it kindly.

What strikes me is not the verdict. Courts do their work. What strikes me is the six hours.

Think about what happened in those six hours. Lawmakers got word soldiers were coming. They did not run. They ran toward the building. Some climbed walls to get past the barricades. Inside, staff dragged desks and chairs across doorways while special forces broke the glass. Outside, ordinary citizens — not soldiers, not police, just people — linked arms and pushed back. Television broadcast the whole thing live. The nation watched its democracy tested in real time.

And the democracy held. Not because of the constitution. Constitutions are paper. It held because people decided it would hold.

I think about this in terms of faith because faith is where I live. Scripture teaches stewardship runs through everything. The land. The family. The church. The nation. We do not own what we are given. We tend it, improve it, and hand it to those who come after.

When a leader forgets he is a steward, the people have to remember for him.

South Korea remembered. In the dark. At midnight. With soldiers at the door.

The former defense minister received thirty years. The former prime minister got twenty-three. Other officials received sentences of their own. The court made clear the insurrection was not one man’s crime. It was a chain of people who followed orders they knew were wrong. Every link in the chain broke the public trust.

There is a lesson in the sentencing and a lesson in the six hours. The sentencing says the law still works. The six hours say something deeper. Democracy is not a document. It is a decision. Made fresh. Every time it is threatened. By ordinary people who decide the building will hold because they will hold it.

Rebecca finished her water and asked if I was going to write about it.

I told her I already had. In my head. On the porch. The way most things get written around here.

She said, “Then put it on paper before you lose it.”

So, I did.

This editorial is part of the fictional Cedar Valley News series. While the people and town are fictional, the national events they reflect on are real.

Want to know the full story behind Cedar Valley? Teresa, Caleb, Dan, and the community you’ve come to know in these editorials first came together in Quiet Echo: When Loud Voices Divide, Quiet Ones Bring Together. Discover how a small town found its way from fear to fellowship — one quiet act of courage at a time. Available on Amazon: https://bit.ly/3ME4nSs