For a month now we have watched the backstabbing in the DISY camp on Pindarou Street. All the while, we hear party figures infuriatingly dismiss any suggestion that Annita Demetriou was blackmailed. She denies it herself. What they fail to grasp is that this way they pay twice. Once for the infighting. And again for insulting the public’s intelligence.
Annita, for her part, denies it with rather too much passion. “Nobody blackmailed me,” she cries, as if anyone listening will swallow it. She said it again on Emilia Kenevezou’s podcast. Does she realise that her explanations give her away, because she is effectively confirming the very thing she is trying to deny?
Let’s look at what she said. She pulled out of the race for DISY’s nomination for the 2028 presidential election because there was a chance Averof Neofytou would run as an independent. Pressing on with her own bid, she added, could have caused bigger problems for the party. She even stressed that Averof had left her bitter.
In other words, the unmistakable implication from Averof was this: “If I’m not DISY’s candidate, I’ll run as an independent.” That is not just a political disagreement. It is a message with specific consequences. An indirect but clear political threat. Political blackmail, plain and simple.
Averof didn’t need to hold a pistol to Annita’s temple (a favourite phrase of their old master and predecessor) for this to count as blackmail. Let’s not be ridiculous. Politics cannot hide behind verbal gymnastics, calling a spade a gardening implement. The public is not naive. It understands perfectly well what happened. What it cannot understand is why the main players refuse to tell it straight.
Annita Demetriou, though, is a broken record. She invokes her duty, as party leader, to protect DISY’s unity, and Averof’s smirk turns into a belly laugh. Of course she has that duty. But she also has another, just as important: to make sure her party wins. Because every election defeat comes at a price. For DISY, that price is neither theoretical nor trivial. Three years after its crushing failure, the party has still not managed to rebuild from the rubble.
Which raises an obvious question. How exactly does picking Averof Neofytou secure DISY’s success at the ballot box? After everything that happened in the 2023 presidential election, DISY may once again end up with a candidacy that carries the baggage of that contest. And the chances of it facing defeat yet again are, objectively, very high.
Who will carry the can if that happens? Averof Neofytou? But he will be heading off into political retirement. So he couldn’t care less what follows another defeat. Or will it be, as so often in politics, that excuses are hunted for after the event, the usual analyses are wheeled out, and the blame is dumped on everyone except those who made the decisions?
Annita clearly doesn’t see that the whole bill will be hers. Unity is, of course, essential. But it cannot become a fig leaf for choices that look set to lead to another defeat. Heaven help us if, every time a senior figure leaves the threat of an independent run hanging in the air, the party leader backs down.
Unity built on the fear of a split can never be real unity. It is a fragile compromise. It may hold things together for a while, but it guarantees neither political cohesion nor electoral success.
Political leadership is not judged only by its ability to avoid conflict. It is also judged by its ability to confront it. By its ability to defend its own credibility. By its ability to lead its party to victory at the polls. Its responsibility does not end with choosing the candidate. That is where it begins.
Unity with no prospect of winning achieves nothing but putting off the crisis. And a political leadership that dodges the truth today risks being confronted with a far harsher truth tomorrow.
