Quite a few politicians (most of them?) are not guided by their conscience. They have developed a philosophy of life centered on power and money, which drives them to behave, without shame, in a self-serving manner

There are politicians who, on the rare occasion that they are “caught red-handed,” admit it, repent, and, devastated, ask for public forgiveness. Usually, this attitude is linked to the Protestant tradition of public confession and the moral catharsis it brings.

U.S. Representative Duke Cunningham admitted that he had taken bribes from defense contractors (2005). In a moving, unusually self-critical statement issued through his lawyers, he said:

“When I announced several months ago that I would not be running for reelection, I publicly declared my innocence because I was not strong enough to face the truth. In doing so, I misled my family, my staff, my friends, my colleagues, the public—and even myself. For all of this, I am deeply sorry. The truth is that I broke the law, concealed my actions, and brought shame upon my high office. I know that I will lose my freedom, my reputation, my worldly possessions, and, most importantly, the trust of my friends and family… In my life, I have known great joy and great sorrow. And now I know great shame. I learned in Vietnam that the true measure of a man is how he reacts to adversity. I cannot undo what I have done. But I can make amends. I am now nearly 65 years old, and as I enter the twilight of my life, I intend to use the time God has left me to make amends” (November 28, 2005).

Others appear less devastated, though they do acknowledge their poor judgment and, indirectly, their greed. Bob McDonnell, former governor of Virginia, and Rod Blagojevich, former governor of Illinois, both convicted of corruption (in 2015 and 2011, respectively—McDonnell was later acquitted by the Supreme Court), confessed and/or apologized for their mistakes.

Such politicians do exist, but they are rare. It takes tremendous courage to publicly confess one’s sins as a public official and face the consequences. Many politicians (most of them?) are not troubled by their conscience. They have developed a philosophy of life centered on power and money, which drives them to behave, without shame, as if they were above reproach: “Don’t listen to them; I’m in the clear—my prosecution is politically motivated.”

Although there are cases—usually in authoritarian regimes—where the prosecution of politicians is indeed politically motivated (e.g., the cases of İmamoğlu in Turkey, Anwar Ibrahim in Malaysia, the late Alexei Navalny in Russia, etc.), it is more common for the accused politicians to have skeletons in their closets. Their vociferous proclamations of innocence are self-serving, part of their effort to avoid accountability.

When Silvio Berlusconi was investigated for corruption in the 1990s, he accused the investigators of a “judicial coup.” Former French President Nicolas Sarkozy was convicted of corruption and influence peddling and is currently serving part of his prison sentence (until 2025). He has never admitted his guilt. “The injustice is scandalous,” he declared, rebuking the judges, who, he said, “were wrong,” accusing them of political bias.  Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who has been on trial for years on corruption charges, considers the charges to be politically motivated by his country’s media, political, and legal establishment.

President Zuma

The most striking case is that of former South African President Jacob Zuma, during whose tenure the state was compromised by private interests, particularly the Gupta family’s business empire, which corrupted government officials. The findings of the Judicial Commission of Inquiry into Allegations of State Capture (widely known as the Zondo Commission, named after its chair, Chief Justice Raymond Zondo) (2018) was shockingly damning for Zuma.

After many months of exhaustive investigation, the findings of which are publicly available (see https://www.statecapture.org.za/), the Zondo Commission concluded that:

“the capture of the state took place on a massive scale in South Africa. It involved the manipulation of appointments, procurement processes, and oversight mechanisms. The Gupta enterprise played a significant role in influencing government decisions and siphoning off state resources. Private-sector entities, including professional service providers, were complicit in the capture of the state.”

The Zondo Commission boldly concluded that:

“the [ruling party] ANC allowed the state to be hijacked by protecting former President Zuma […]. It also found that the politicization of public administration […] provided fertile ground for corruption and the capture of the state. The evidence presented in the Commission’s reports indicates that the capture of the state involved various networks that coalesced around certain individuals—particularly former President Zuma.”

Zuma denied everything. He accused the Commission’s chair of a “personal vendetta” and claimed the entire investigation was instigated by his political opponents. He refused to testify before the Commission and was sentenced to 15 months in prison for his refusal. Following the conviction, he lashed out against the “judicial dictatorship” in his country.

The corruption of Zuma and those around him was an open secret in South Africa. The Zondo Commission documented what, by and large, everyone already knew. South Africa had the misfortune of being ruled by a corrupt president.

The “Most Honorable” Mr. Anastasiades and the “Mafia State”

The recent findings of the Independent Anti-Corruption Authority regarding the “Mafia State” are consistent with Zondo’s findings. It is not a court ruling, but the conclusion of an extensive official investigation. Unlike in South Africa, however, we—ordinary citizens, our political representatives, and the media—will not have the opportunity to read the report. The Authority has refused to make it public. We will therefore have to make do with the 67-page summary it has released.  

What was former President Anastasiades’ stance on the Authority’s findings? Similar to that of former President Zuma—he denied everything. Anything else would have been a surprise—it’s hard for anyone to stray from their true nature. His rebuttal of the Authority’s findings—which Mr. Anastasiades has not seen in their entirety—is riddled with half-truths, evasions, omissions, and illogical inferences.

Take the example of Focus. At a press conference (June 23, 2026), Mr. Anastasiades glossed over the significance of the Authority’s finding that, during his tenure, the bank transfer of 450,000 euros to DISY from Focus Maritime was made partly directly (50,000 euros) and partly indirectly, through Rizokarpasso Shipping Ltd and A&L; Shipholding Ltd (450,000 euros). The Authority confirms that A&L; Shipholding Ltd was, in essence, a shell company, stating the following:

“Regarding the allegation that A&L; Shipholding Ltd was a company without any real substance and was used merely as a shell company, the Inspectors noted from testimony that the company was registered in the British Virgin Islands, maintained an account in Cyprus, had previously been a ship-owning company, and had become inactive following the sale of the ship it owned.”

In plain English, his party received funding, at least in part, through a shell company, a fact that raises suspicions of possible money laundering.

What did Mr. Anastasiades say about this? Nothing. Silence.

While the Authority did not find any personal benefit for him from this transfer of funds, the political benefit is clear—450,000 euros were given to his party through a suspicious company. In the same vein, the Authority also found the following:

“According to the findings, the sum of €100,000 was transferred from Focus Maritime to Rizokarpasso Shipping Ltd and, subsequently, following instructions that, according to testimony, were given by the former President, Mr. Nicos Anastasiades, was transferred to a Cypriot businessman for further delivery to DISY. The businessman reportedly stated that he acted on behalf of DISY and that he made the funds available to the party for electoral purposes.”

What did Mr. Anastasiades say about this? Nothing. Silence.

In this regard, the Authority accuses him of possibly having committed the felony of abuse of power. The Authority states:

“[According to] among other things, [the] testimony that, while the investigation into the Focus Maritime case was ongoing, Mr. Anastasiades met with and spoke by phone with the then-Attorney General, Mr. Kostas Clerides, expressing strong dissatisfaction with the course of the investigation and requesting that the interrogations be terminated, on the grounds that no criminal offenses had been identified,”

How did Mr. Anastasiades refute the Authority’s conclusion? He defended himself by twisting logic, treating his listeners as if they were suffering from dementia.

He said, among other things, in his interview:

“The Attorney General has sole and exclusive responsibility for and oversight of the investigations; so how could the former President have expressed strong dissatisfaction with the progress of the investigations, demanding their termination on the grounds that no criminal offenses had been identified?".

This is a laughable argument, by any logical standard. It’s like saying: “Since only X is conducting the investigation, how is it possible for Y to have intervened?” Of course it’s possible, “Your Honor”: arbitrary interventions are carried out precisely to prevent X from doing his job properly. That is the logic behind interventions from above.

In the Watergate scandal (1972), for example, we know from audio recordings of conversations at the White House that, six days after the break-in at the building of the same name, then-President Nixon intervened in a related FBI investigation in order to cover up the scandal. “Don’t go any further on this case. Period,” was his order (see New York Times, August 6, 1974).  Anyone with even a basic knowledge of political history knows that when the executive branch feels threatened, it attempts to interfere with independent institutions in order to manipulate them. According to the Authority, this is exactly what Mr. Anastasiades is alleged to have done—he is said to have intervened with the then-Attorney General.

The sycophants and apologists

 I could go on about N. Anastasiades’s incoherencies, evasions, and omissions, but I’d need enough space for a book, not just an article.

I’d like to conclude by commenting on his pitiful sycophants and apologists. The accusations against Mr. Anastasiades are not supported by sufficient evidence, ruled the political protégé of former President Efthymios Diplaros. Of course, the fact that such a remark comes from Mr. Diplaros is enough for one to dismiss it as insignificant—it’s like expecting elegant expression, refined thought, and moral acuity from Donald Trump.

However, Mr. Diplaros, in addition to being a member of parliament, is also the deputy chairman of DISY—the party, that is, that governed Cyprus during the ten years of Anastasiades’ presidency. This is not an insignificant fact.

Note that the Zondo Commission also attributed serious responsibility to South Africa’s ruling party (the ANC)—not just to then-President Zuma—for the collapse of the state. If Cyprus had possessed the institutional robustness of post-apartheid South Africa, perhaps DISY would have been identified in the Authority’s (or some other institution’s) findings as a potential facilitator of the allegations leveled against Mr. Anastasiades.

The “serious” DISY has already made its choice. To the extent that it is represented by its deputy president, DISY rejects the Commission’s official findings (which, I emphasize, it has not seen in their entirety) in order to continue supporting its honorary president. Between institutional rationality and blind loyalty, it prefers blind loyalty. The “most honorable” Mr. Anastasiades remains Honorary President of Cyprus’s largest party. I wonder what the “most honorable” (without quotation marks) Glafkos Clerides would say about this.

I’ll continue in the next post.

Mr. Charidimos Tsoukas (www.htsoukas.com) is a professor at the University of Cyprus, a research professor at the University of Warwick, and a member of the Cypriot and British Academies