How These Parties Thrive On Deception
PHOTO: The Author
Unless there is a shift, criminally minded politicians will continue to exploit their die-hard supporters — not for ideology, not for progress, but for personal gain.
By Joe Noutoua Wandah, Media Advocate/Contributing Writer
From the 1800s, Liberia’s political history has reflected the contradictions of governance. The one-party system that dominated for more than a century, though undemocratic, at least presented itself with a sense of order and structure.
To the indigenous people who were governed under it, it offered the semblance of political maturity.
That system eventually crumbled, not by democratic will, but by the rifles of seventeen non-commissioned soldiers of the Armed Forces of Liberia (AFL). With its fall came the introduction of multiparty politics — a concept new to many and, sadly, quickly corrupted.
History reveals that after the collapse of the one-party system, the floodgates opened to greedy opportunists disguised as politicians. They rushed to exploit this strange new system of multiparty democracy, preying on a largely illiterate society desperate for direction.
Looking back, even within the flaws of the one-party era, there was a sense of institutional pride. The True Whig Party, for instance, constructed its own headquarters — the E.J. Roye Building — on historic Ashmun Street, a corridor lined with some of Liberia’s most important landmarks: the Executive Mansion, the Methodist and Baptist churches, and the Providence Baptist Church where Liberia’s Declaration of Independence was signed. Though civil servants were coerced into funding the building through mandatory salary deductions of one U.S. dollar per month, the party left behind a tangible symbol of permanence.
Fast forward to today’s multiparty democracy: only one political party, the National Patriotic Party (NPP) of former President Charles G. Taylor, can point to a visible headquarters in Monrovia. The rest of the forty-plus so-called political parties exist as “handbag parties” — tied to the egos of their founders, with no clear vision, no concrete platform, and no permanent home beyond rented properties.
These parties thrive on deception. They mismanage resources, enrich themselves and their allies, build luxury homes at home and abroad — yet leave their parties without structures to reflect the people’s contributions. Instead, every election cycle, rented buildings or private residences are hastily branded as “party headquarters,” adorned with billboards, only to be abandoned after votes are counted.
Since the 1980s, Liberians have witnessed this pattern of evictions, closures, and disappearances. These so-called political institutions die natural deaths the moment elections are over. Their visions and aspirations are not rooted in the people but in the ambitions of their founders, who resurface only when the next electoral season arrives.
Defenders of this system argue that in other countries, some parties also operate from rented properties. But should that excuse Liberia’s leaders from accountability? Can any serious-minded citizen believe that politicians who cannot establish their own party headquarters are capable of building a nation?
At what point in Liberia’s political history will faithful supporters walk with pride into a modern, purpose-built headquarters that reflects their sacrifices, dues, and loyalty? Until then, Liberian politics will remain dominated by what the Webster Dictionary so bluntly calls politicians:
“Blood-sucking vampires who come to power with ulterior motives as compared to their so-called party manifestos.”
Unless there is a shift, criminally minded politicians will continue to exploit their die-hard supporters — not for ideology, not for progress, but for personal gain. And as long as the people cling to personalities instead of principles, Liberia’s multiparty system will remain a house built on sand.