Marina Economides
Over the past week, supporters of the President of the Republic spoke of unchecked toxicity, of nihilism and blind fanaticism that have come to dominate the public sphere, both from Nikos Christodoulides’ political opponents, who refused to accept their defeat, and from a segment of society prone to populism. The trigger was his decision to donate, for the remainder of his term, the pension he receives from the state to charitable institutions, and the interpretations that followed this move.
The infamous pension had long been one of his greatest thorns. A large shadow over his once polished public profile, which only grew each time those close to the President explained that he was entitled to receive it. And his supporters insisted that it was better to have a President who is “legally double-paid” than one embroiled in scandals like others in the past.
But why did a lawful pension, one he “worked for to receive,” as many put it, elicit such reactions, when the same society tolerated politicians involved in scandals, shadowed by their business dealings and the activities of their family circles? Because Nikos Christodoulides was elected precisely as a reaction against all that came before. And because he had succeeded in instilling in a large segment of society the sense that his candidacy represented a break from a system of cronyism, nepotism, and the dominance of an elite governing with overprivileges, double pensions, and multiple benefits.
It’s not that the state treasury will obviously be saved by the €730 the President receives, nor will he be saved by it. It’s the moral dimension of the pension, conveniently ignored, that provoked discomfort. By his stance, he created the perception that the President with the “human profile” was entirely out of step with society’s expectations. A society that counts every last euro, compares benefits and privileges, and logs overtime like a civil servant rather than an official called to govern. That perception only intensified reactions when the donation to charity was announced. On one hand, because the President’s haste to publicize it via an official announcement of the Republic of Cyprus gave the impression it was done for political points, at a time when his image is faltering. On the other, because it came late and, in many respects, hypocritically, giving the sense it was not a matter of personal conviction but a move compelled by social outrage. A tactical move.
Yet timing and reflexes matter greatly in politics. And if there’s one lesson from the reactions to the pension, given that it was handed over belatedly and under some pressure, it is that a politician must anticipate crises. Not chase developments, gasping, desperately trying to fix an image already entrenched and hard to reverse.
The pension, then, was a lesson in how a move that could have been praised by the public backfired due to mismanagement and poor timing. And this poor timing threatens to repeat itself in the case of the cabinet reshuffle. For six months now, leaks have circulated about who will leave. Behind the scenes, there is discussion about who has displeased the President and who is on the way out. A situation that not only exposes the President but also causes short-circuits within the government.
If some ministers are indeed weak links, they should have been replaced immediately. A reshuffle is not announced in advance. It is not leaked in whispers or through press reports. It is executed while preserving the dignity of those who have served, and with the aim of ensuring smooth governance. The President may recover from the poor image created by the infamous pension, but he will not be able to govern smoothly if the impression takes hold that he cannot find capable people, and, by extension, cannot govern effectively for the remainder of his term.
This opinion was translated from its Greek original.
