The opposition has marched in red and black, chanting that democracy is under attack. The slogans are loud, the placards are colourful, and the cameras are rolling. But beneath the spectacle lies a simple question: What exactly is under attack?
Is democracy under attack because former public officials are being investigated over decisions they took while exercising public power? If accountability has suddenly become oppression, then every anti-corruption institution should probably close shop.
Is democracy under attack because people who allegedly spread falsehoods or make threatening statements are invited to answer before the law? Freedom of expression has never included a licence to publish anything without consequence. Rights exist alongside responsibilities.
Or is democracy under attack because political actors who once wielded the full machinery of the state now find themselves on the receiving end of the same legal processes they once defended?
There is a certain irony in watching those who once insisted that “the law must take its course” suddenly discover the vocabulary of victimhood when the law knocks on their own doors.
This is not to suggest that any government is above criticism. Every administration must be scrutinised, and every abuse of power must be resisted. Democracy thrives on dissent. But democracy also thrives on consistency. If accountability was patriotic yesterday, it cannot become persecution simply because the names on the docket have changed.
The greatest weakness of the “Democracy Under Attack” narrative is that it asks Ghanaians to suffer from selective amnesia. Citizens remember the years when journalists complained of intimidation, when critics accused the state of heavy-handedness, and when public confidence in governance steadily declined. Those memories cannot simply be erased with matching T-shirts and dramatic slogans.
Even more striking is the leadership presenting itself as the guardian of democratic values. A party once admired for discipline, intellectual depth, and organisational strength increasingly appears trapped between defending its past and explaining its present. Rather than offering a compelling alternative vision, it seems preoccupied with portraying accountability as oppression.
Of course, every political party has the constitutional right to demonstrate. Peaceful protest is itself an expression of democratic freedom. Ironically, the very ability to organise nationwide demonstrations, criticise the government publicly, and march through the streets under police protection is evidence that democratic space continues to exist.
Perhaps the demonstration was less about saving democracy and more about energising a discouraged political base. There is nothing inherently wrong with mobilising supporters. Political parties do it everywhere. But dressing ordinary political mobilisation in the robes of a constitutional emergency risks diminishing genuine threats to democracy when they actually arise.
Democracy is not endangered because former officeholders are called upon to account for their stewardship. We need a vigilant and constructive opposition not those full of hypocrisy. We deserve robust criticism of government and principled defenders of constitutionalism in honesty.
If every investigation becomes “persecution,” every prosecution becomes “dictatorship,” and every legal process becomes “an attack on democracy,” then the phrase itself loses all meaning.
Sometimes the loudest cries of “Save Democracy” are really pleas to save politicians from accountability.
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DISCLAIMER: The Views, Comments, Opinions, Contributions and Statements made by Readers and Contributors on this platform do not necessarily represent the views or policy of Multimedia Group Limited.
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