Sorry, but we’re going to have to fall out with Pindarou. The rascals told us that Monday was the day for submitting nominations for the party’s presidential candidacy. What they kept from us was that they would be shooting an ambitious piece of political theatre. Starring the master of the genre, Averof Neofytou. With a hundred or so of his fans as extras. And a director (sorry, I meant communications adviser) determined to bag the Oscar for Best Victory Performance before the race had even begun!
Averof wasn’t content with simply handing in his nomination. He staged a full-blown celebration outside the party’s offices. The aim was plain to see: to send an unmistakable message that the battle for the nomination is already over. Giorgos Pamborides must have felt rather like an extra when he realised his rival had already printed the posters and was signing autographs.
And the Oscar goes to… Averof Neofytou! For acting, production and direction. Above all, for his unshakeable belief that an election can be banked in advance with enough people, powerful images and a generous dollop of… emotion.
And on that last front, what a performance. He spoke of young people struggling to see any future for themselves. Of those who brought him up politically in DISY. Of the young people he himself nurtured at Pindarou. He threw in a little Glafcos Clerides, and the eyes welled up. Nikos Xanthopoulos of the old black-and-white films? Who’s he? This was a one-off performance. And live on air, no less!
Emotion, you see, is an essential ingredient of any big political production. Especially when the leading man has to convince everyone he is the best choice for the future, without having to explain his past all over again.
So the storyline of Averof 2.0 is glaringly obvious. The man of the people (and this is where Xanthopoulos comes in), who cares about the middle class and the poor! Only someone needs to tell Averof’s director (drat, wrong again, his communications adviser) that voters are not going senile.
They remember very well that this same leading man was seen, because of his positions and proposals, as the standard-bearer for policies that favoured the banks and big business. Now he is trying to recast himself as the champion of the less well-off. Of course, there is no rule in politics against reinventing yourself. Then again, nobody guarantees the audience will applaud every reinvention.
Against this blockbuster, Giorgos Pamborides chose the exact opposite approach. He turned up at Pindarou with his wife, made a short, no-frills statement and left. No extras. No festive set. No attempt to convince anyone that victory was already in the bag. Two candidates, two completely different pictures. One welcomed almost like a saviour. The other like a poor relation who had popped in to drop off his application form.
The highlight, though, which cannot go without comment, was Averof’s pledge: “I gave you a promise and it is a vow of honour. I will never hurt you!” Breathtaking. One of those displays of party patriotism that leave you spellbound! Only, amid the drama of the performance and with the adrenaline pumping, one small detail slipped his mind. He has already hurt the DISY faithful. Twice.
The first time was the party’s electoral slide under his leadership, from 34 per cent to 27 per cent, a figure harking back to the distant days of 1976. The second was his stance in the run-off of the last presidential election, when he hinted at a vote for AKEL’s candidate, DISY’s traditional political rival.
All in all, the way Averof has carried himself lately points to a certain confusion in his mind. He treats winning the party nomination as if it were more or less winning the presidency. As though winning at Pindarou were enough to move him straight into the Presidential Palace. But it isn’t only his fellow DISY members who vote in a presidential election. The whole country does.
So while Averof is trying on the presidential suit for size, someone needs to point out that he has a very tough job ahead of him: persuading those who will back Pamborides to trust him with the party’s future once again. That isn’t as simple as he may think. It won’t be done with 100 fans outside Pindarou, or with misty eyes, or with vows of honour.
The road to the Presidential Palace is no Oscars ceremony. And the judges, in this case the people, don’t always applaud the star of a blockbuster!
