There is an interesting contradiction in the way political parties operate. They place complete trust in the people when it comes to granting them power, but they often seem less willing to trust their own members when it comes to deciding who will seek that power.
The DISY Pan-Cyprian Electoral Assembly, scheduled for November 28, 2026, is presented by the party as an unprecedented process of member participation in selecting the candidate who will run for the Presidency of the Republic. This process is of particular importance not only for the party but also, more broadly, for the country’s political life. Delegating such an important decision to the party’s grassroots raises a question far greater than who the candidate will ultimately be. To whom, ultimately, does a political party belong?
The Mandate Before the Decision
There are two different ways to understand participation. In the first, a limited group of people makes a decision and then calls on the rank and file to support it. This is followed by the familiar calls for unity, solidarity, and collective responsibility. The rank-and-file are called upon only when they need to defend a decision in which they may not have participated.
In the second scenario, the rank-and-file are called upon to decide before the final choice is made. Legitimacy is not sought as confirmation of a fait accompli, but arises from the process itself. The difference may seem technical, but it is eminently political. In the first case, participation functions primarily as a mechanism of ratification. In the second, it is part of the process of political decision-making.
Of course, an internal party vote is not the same as the popular mandate of national elections. Party members do not constitute the whole of society. They do, however, have a specific democratic responsibility: to participate in the decisions of the party to which they belong.
The Problem with Closed Doors
One can discuss, negotiate, compromise, anticipate reactions, and reach a decision without the unpredictable interference of hundreds or thousands of people. It’s not hard to understand why political parties often prefer this method.
But there is a problem here. Politics is not a private company, and its members are not an audience that has bought a ticket to watch management make decisions. Nor can a party leadership invoke the rank and file whenever it needs their support and then bypass them when it comes time to make decisions.
The many are not necessarily wiser. But they are more numerous.
The many can make wrong choices, just as the few can. They can be influenced by personal biases, incomplete information, media impressions, or internal dynamics.
Broadening participation does not guarantee a better decision nor does it ensure the agreement of all members. What it can offer is a different source of legitimacy, provided that the process is open to stakeholders, transparent, and genuinely competitive.
After all, no one can claim that decisions made behind closed doors are always wiser. Political history has proven the opposite time and again.
A Test of Political Culture
The process on November 28 is also interesting for another reason. It’s not just about how the Democratic Alarm will select its candidate for 2028. It concerns whether a party can incorporate participation as a permanent feature of its political culture rather than as an isolated procedural exception.
The real test, therefore, is not only who will turn out to vote, but also what will happen the day after. Will the result be treated as the members’ decision, even by those who disagree? Will the rank-and-file play a more substantial role in other important decisions as well? Will there be greater accountability between the leadership and the people called upon to support it?
The process does not need to be idealized. It needs rules, transparency, and, above all, consistency. After all, closed doors are not in themselves proof of a lack of transparency, just as open ballot boxes are not in themselves proof of democracy.
On November 28, members of the Democratic Alarm are called upon to participate in a decision with political significance far greater than that of a routine internal party process. Whether this experience will leave a deeper institutional mark remains to be seen.
What must be clear from the outset is that participation entails responsibility. Anyone who calls for the rank and file to decide must be prepared to respect their decision. Even when it doesn’t suit them. Even when it upends their personal plans.
The right to disagree is self-evident. So, too, is the obligation to respect collective decisions. Otherwise, invoking internal party democracy becomes a convenient slogan, valid only when we like the outcome.
The mandate is given in advance. It is not sought after the fact to ratify a decision that has already been made.
This is the most essential democratic aspect of the process. When the rank-and-file truly participate in the selection, they are not merely called upon to defend a result. They participate in shaping it.
DISY is moving forward with a process that places significant political responsibility on its own members. The real challenge, however, begins the very next day. Because respect for the rank-and-file cannot be selective. Nor can internal party democracy apply only to those who win.
