When political accountability begins to sound like a promise of revenge
By William Mintah Hayford
From the Corridors of Assin Fosu
There are moments in politics when words are more powerful than actions.
There are also moments when a politician says something that may have been intended as a warning, but to the ears of the public sounds unmistakably like a threat.
The recent exchange between the Minority Leader of Parliament, Alexander Afenyo-Markin, and the Chief Executive of the Ghana Gold Board, Sammy Gyamfi, belongs to the second category.
And perhaps the most important question is not who insulted whom.
It is this:
When did the prospect of a change of government become a justification for promising political opponents difficult times ahead?
That is the uncomfortable question Afenyo-Markin’s remarks have raised.
The Minority Leader, while speaking about the treatment of persons associated with the previous administration, warned that the political tables could turn. If the NPP returns to power, he suggested, those currently involved in the administration could face the same treatment or even more onerous bail conditions.
On the surface, the argument may be presented as a warning about consequences.
But politically, it sounded much more frightening than that.
It sounded like a message from the opposition saying: “We are watching what you are doing today, and when our turn comes, we will remember.”
That is precisely where the problem begins.
Accountability is not revenge
Nobody should be above the law.
If Sammy Gyamfi, or any other public official has committed an offence, the appropriate institutions must investigate, prosecute and where guilt is established, punish that person in accordance with the law.
That principle should apply without fear or favour.
But there is a fundamental difference between saying “You will be held accountable if you break the law” and saying, in substance, “When we return to power, you may face onerous bail conditions.”
The first is the language of justice.
The second risks sounding like the language of political revenge.
And this distinction matters because Ghana’s democracy has already endured enough of the politics of “when our turn comes.”
If every political party begins to govern with one eye on development and the other on how it will punish its opponents when it returns to power, then we are no longer building institutions.
We are building a cycle.
And then came Sammy Gyamfi
It is against this background that Sammy Gyamfi’s response must be understood.
Was his response polite?
No.
Was it diplomatic?
Certainly not.
His description of Afenyo-Markin’s statement as a “fanciful effusion of a palm wine bar” was deliberately provocative. It was designed to sting, and it did.
Those who criticise Gyamfi for the language are therefore not entirely wrong.
Public officials must learn to disagree without descending into personal attacks.
But there is another question we must ask:
Can we condemn the response without first examining the provocation?
Gyamfi was responding to a public political statement that appeared to contemplate his possible arrest and onerous bail conditions under a future NPP government.
That is not an ordinary political disagreement.
It touches directly on a person’s liberty.
And when the subject is one’s freedom, one’s family, one’s reputation and one’s future, it is unrealistic to expect a person to respond with the calmness of a courtroom judge.
Gyamfi responded angrily because, from his perspective, he was not merely being criticised.
He was being warned.
Perhaps the strongest part of Gyamfi’s response was not the insult
Interestingly, the most important part of Gyamfi’s response was not the palm-wine-bar remark.
It was his challenge to his accusers.
If there are concerns about the Ghana Gold Board, bring them to Parliament.
If there are questions about his stewardship, summon him.
If there is evidence of wrongdoing, investigate it.
If there is a case, prosecute it.
That is where the conversation should be.
Not in predictions about who will be arrested when the political tables turn.
Not in calculations about how expensive someone’s bail will be.
Not in political threats dressed up as warnings.
Evidence should determine prosecution. The law should determine bail. The courts should determine guilt.
Not political fortunes.
The irony of the argument
There is an irony that should not be lost on anyone following this debate.
The same political class that complains about excessive bail conditions when its members are affected cannot, in the next breath, appear comfortable with the prospect of equally onerous conditions being imposed on its opponents.
If an unreasonable bail condition is wrong when imposed on an NPP sympathiser, it remains wrong when imposed on an NDC sympathiser.
If political interference in prosecution is dangerous when one party is in power, it remains dangerous when another party takes over.
Justice cannot have a party colour.
That is the principle Ghana needs to defend.
Afenyo-Markin should know better
Alexander Afenyo-Markin is not an ordinary politician.
He is the Minority Leader of Parliament.
That office carries enormous political weight and comes with an equally enormous responsibility.
The Minority Leader is expected to scrutinise the government, expose wrongdoing and hold the executive accountable.
But the power of that office lies not merely in the ability to speak loudly.
It lies in the ability to make an argument so strong that it does not need intimidation.
If the Minority believes GoldBod has questions to answer, Parliament provides the platform.
Call Sammy Gyamfi.
Put the figures before him.
Ask the difficult questions.
Demand answers.
Expose inconsistencies.
Let the Ghanaian people decide.
That would be a powerful opposition.
But telling people that when the political tables turn they may face onerous bail conditions does not strengthen the case against them.
It weakens the moral authority of the person making the warning.
But Sammy Gyamfi must also know better
This defence of Gyamfi should not be misunderstood.
Being provoked does not give anyone a licence to insult.
Sammy Gyamfi is also a public official.
He is the Chief Executive of an important state institution, and his words carry weight.
He could have dismantled Afenyo-Markin’s argument without the personal jabs.
He could have said:
“I welcome any investigation. I am prepared to account for every decision taken under my leadership. If the Minority has evidence of wrongdoing, let them bring it before Parliament or the appropriate investigative institution.”
That response would have been even more devastating.
Why?
Because facts are often more powerful than insults.
Nevertheless, acknowledging that Gyamfi’s language was excessive does not erase the fact that the statement he was responding to was itself provocative.
The real danger is bigger than Afenyo-Markin and Gyamfi
This is not ultimately about Afenyo-Markin.
It is not even ultimately about Sammy Gyamfi.
It is about Ghana’s political culture.
We must decide whether elections are contests to determine who gets the opportunity to govern or contests to determine who gets the opportunity to settle scores.
If politics becomes a permanent promise of retaliation, then every change of government becomes a moment of anxiety for those who served under the previous administration.
And that is dangerous for democracy.
Public officials will become afraid to take decisions.
Civil servants will become cautious.
Businesses will become politically aligned for protection.
And political parties will spend more time preparing dossiers on their opponents than preparing policies for the country.
That cannot be the Ghana we want.
A warning to both sides
Afenyo-Markin should be reminded that the NPP will not remain in opposition forever—but neither will it remain in government forever.
Sammy Gyamfi should also remember that the NDC will not remain in government forever.
The political table always turns.
That is precisely why politicians should be careful about creating standards today that they may be forced to live under tomorrow.
The safest political principle is simple: do not build a weapon you would be uncomfortable seeing pointed at you.
If onerous bail conditions are unacceptable today, they should be unacceptable tomorrow.
If politically motivated prosecutions are dangerous today, they will remain dangerous tomorrow.
If intimidation of political opponents is wrong today, it will be wrong when the colours change.
The bigger man is the one who chooses principle
So, who was right?
Afenyo-Markin was right to demand accountability if he genuinely believes there are unanswered questions surrounding GoldBod.
Sammy Gyamfi was right to resist what he perceived as intimidation and to challenge his accusers to produce evidence.
But both could have chosen better language.
The difference, however, is that one statement appeared to warn of what could happen to an individual when political power changes hands, while the other was an angry response to that warning.
That distinction should not be ignored.
Perhaps the most responsible thing Afenyo-Markin could have said was:
“If you have done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear. But if there is evidence of wrongdoing, you will be held accountable in accordance with the law.”
And perhaps the most powerful response Sammy Gyamfi could have given was:
“Then investigate me. I am ready.”
That would have ended the matter where it belongs—in the realm of evidence, accountability and the law.
Not in the realm of threats.
Not in the realm of political revenge.
And certainly not in the realm of who can deliver the most colourful insult.
Because Ghana deserves better than politicians threatening each other with tomorrow’s justice.
Ghana deserves institutions strong enough to deliver justice today—regardless of who is in power.
