What good is a cloak of public relations, even if it’s made of vicuña?
The press conference held last Tuesday by former President of the Republic Nicos Anastasiades dominated the news cycle.
From a communications perspective, we would say this was to be expected, given the former President’s temperament. Just as expected was the “defense strategy” he adopted: denying the charges, challenging the findings and the proceedings, and claiming he was being personally targeted. This approach was expected because, throughout his political career, Nikos Anastasiadis has chosen to respond by going on the offensive against the accusations leveled against him from time to time.
However, the communicative success or failure of an endeavor is never judged by a single moment or by isolated events. It is usually judged by what has come before, and Nikos Anastasiadis, having long been a fixture in the country’s political and social life, has been the subject of scrutiny on several occasions regarding his finances and assets. Whether he is wealthy or not, whether he has a financial stake in the law firm that bears his name or not, and so on. And when these issues become the subject of public debate, the perception that arises is overwhelmingly negative.
Of course, various statements made from time to time by Nikos Anastasiadis himself did not help in creating these impressions. A telling example is a statement he made in 2020 to the Financial Times, in which he stated (or at least that is how it was reported) that he has made enough money throughout his career that he has no need for corrupt practices. The first impression this creates for the average citizen is: well, if he hadn’t made enough money, would he then possibly have agreed to be bribed? Second, this statement implies that even if he was not actively involved in the day-to-day operations of his law firm, as the majority shareholder he still reaped significant financial benefits. Third, this statement creates yet another contradiction. This assumption does not correspond to the periodic financial disclosures published by the former President. In March 2021, he declared real estate worth €66,000, deposits totaling €115,000, cars worth €85,000, and some low-value shares in various companies. And these are just some of the things that have come to light from time to time regarding Nicos Anastasiades. Even if most of these claims may have been completely unfounded or even figments of the imagination, at the end of the day, the formation of public opinion does not require the standard of “beyond a reasonable doubt.”
In short, the starting point for the former President’s communication strategy was already negative.
At the same time, the popular saying “he who sows the wind reaps the whirlwind” also applies here. Sooner or later, we might add. This is because, over time, the Cypriot state (in which N. Anastasiades has consistently held top positions) has failed to establish itself as a state governed by the rule of law. Over time, it has failed to prove to its citizens that the knife can indeed cut to the bone. As a result, “the balance of probabilities” is considered sufficient for the average Cypriot to pass judgment and condemn. Perhaps because “beyond a reasonable doubt” has worn him down and disappointed him many times in the past.
When institutions fail to inspire confidence, when courts take 10 years to resolve cases, and when invoking the “public interest” is becoming the rule rather than the exception for postponing cases, then citizens quite naturally choose “to take their chances,” as the Americans say, and make decisions based on the balance of probabilities.
Let’s pose the philosophical question, then: When the text messages from the cell phone of Mr. Ribolovlev’s cell phone came to light, wouldn’t it have been better for the Cypriot authorities to have examined their content back then? By both government authorities and the private sector, which is supposed to be responsible for self-regulation? In this specific case, by the Cyprus Bar Association, since Cypriot law firms were involved and mentioned? (By the way, what ever happened to that Single Supervisory Authority for Administrative Services Providers?) Wouldn’t it have been better if an investigation had been conducted all those years ago to find out who this “Number 1” really is?
All of this, of course, did not help the former President, since public distrust had been widespread for years.
As for the press conference, the former President’s decision to so vehemently dispute the findings of the Anti-Corruption Authority certainly didn’t help. Not because he didn’t have the right to do so, but because, as he himself noted, it was based on two and a half years of investigations, cost €1.5 million, involved 150 witnesses, and included 793 pieces of evidence. Obviously, questioning the seriousness of an investigation of this scope and dismissing it as populism only creates a negative impression. Another negative factor was that, in much of his lengthy statement, the former President focused more on the content of Makarios Drousiotis’s book than on the allegations against him in the Authority’s report.
On a purely legal matter, the former President stated on numerous occasions that he was not questioned about the allegations against him so that he could respond. Could it be that he was not asked because the allegations against him will form the basis of a criminal investigation? Was he not asked because the testimonies and evidence collected contain material that will be used in the next stage of the proceedings? Should he have been more careful?
This article is not yet another blow to an oak tree that, rightly or wrongly, catches the public’s eye. Nor will it be posted on TikTok. Its purpose is to demonstrate that when, for many years, citizens feel they are surrounded by naked kings and half-naked courtiers, what good is a cloak of public relations, even if it’s made of vicuña?
P.S. The events in question took place more than 10 years ago; the Authority’s investigation lasted more than two years, and another investigation will follow, along with an evaluation of the findings and, possibly, legal proceedings. All in all, we may be looking at a quarter of a century. And that is not good—neither for the country’s credibility, nor for citizens’ sense of trust, nor for those who have been or will be accused.
