Opinion
By Christos Kyriakou**
In Periclean Athens, civic participation wasn’t just a right—it was a moral and political duty. Those who didn’t engage in public affairs were labeled idiotes, a term thought to carry a derogatory tone, and which is often linked to the modern English words “idiot” and “idiocy.” In his famous Funeral Oration, as recorded by Thucydides (2.40), Pericles described those who avoided public life as “useless.” There were two key reasons for this view: first, abstaining from civic life signaled indifference to the fate of the city and, by extension, the homeland. Second, as Plato warned in The Republic (347c), those who shunned politics risked being governed by someone far worse—“the greatest punishment for refusing to rule is to be ruled by someone inferior.”
This small-minded greed is exactly what the average citizen sees and resents in our political life. And tragically, it’s what pushes people away from politics altogether.
In other words, political engagement was seen as a responsibility for every rational citizen invested in the common good—not as a path to personal gain. That principle should still bind political action today. Former Uruguayan president José “Pepe” Mujica, who passed away recently, embodied this spirit. Renowned for his austere lifestyle, he lived modestly on a farm and shunned fame and wealth. Thucydides described Pericles as adorotatos—incorruptible—and Mujica follows that lineage. So too did Ioannis Kapodistrias, Greece’s first governor, and Nikolaos Plastiras, the “Black Rider” of the Balkan Wars and later prime minister. Kapodistrias refused his government salary, while Plastiras died penniless, having refused to bill the Greek state even for a telephone line.
In a speech to the 4th National Assembly, Kapodistrias, whose mother was of Cypriot origin, famously declared:
“As long as my personal income is enough to live on, I will not touch a single public coin, especially at a time when we stand amidst ruins and citizens are mired in extreme poverty.”
Now compare that to Cyprus. After much political back-and-forth, the issue of multiple pensions for state officials remains unresolved. It is legally allowed (if morally questionable) for former public officials to collect several pensions, which can add up to tens of thousands of euros a month.
Despite all the noise—legal wrangling, partisan bickering, and empty promises—no real solution has emerged. The issue has effectively been buried under red tape, constitutional technicalities (pensions are considered private property), and political cowardice. As a result, the practice continues unchecked. I won’t rehash the obvious reasons why this is unfair and insulting to Cypriot taxpayers. What I will stress is the absurdity: roughly 98 individuals receive multiple generous pensions, and yet no one in authority can—or will—pass a straightforward law capping them at the highest pension amount.
It’s a tragicomic situation. Either the political system doesn’t want to fix it, or it lacks the will to try. But can we really believe it’s incapable? It’s not as if this is the Cyprus problem. The likelier answer is that they don’t want to, for self-serving reasons. Some officials already benefit from the system, and others—MPs, party members—are lining up for their share.
This small-minded greed is exactly what the average citizen sees and resents in our political life. And tragically, it’s what pushes people away from politics altogether—with disappointment, disgust, and a sense that public service has lost its meaning.
*This op-ed was translated from its Greek original
**Christos Kyriakou is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Classics and Philosophy at the University of Cyprus.
