Divided by Party, United in Suffering: Ghana’s dilemma of blind partisan loyalty

There is something deeply troubling about the way politics has come to occupy Ghana’s public space. Every morning, from television and radio programmes to conversations in taxis, offices and homes, we encounter the same political theatre.

The government of the day says one thing, the opposition holds press conference to say another, their supporters then rush to defend, accuse and counter-accuse one another over who has mismanaged the country more.

And somewhere in the middle of all this noise is the ordinary citizen, struggling with unemployment, rising living costs, inadequate public services and the daily uncertainty of making ends meet.

The concern is not simply that Ghana is politically divided. It is that partisan loyalty increasingly shapes our understanding of right and wrong, our tolerance for poor governance and our willingness to demand accountability from those entrusted with public office.

This is where I juxtapose Karl Marx’s famous description of religion as the “opium of the masses” to offer an interesting lens through which to examine Ghanaian partisan politics.

Marx, the German philosopher and economist, used opium as a metaphor for something that provides comfort amid suffering while potentially distracting people from the conditions responsible for that suffering. The argument was not merely that religion was harmful, but that it could through its teachings make suffering more bearable without necessarily changing its underlying causes.

A similar argument can be made about partisan politics and the particular version of democracy we practice here in Ghana.

It is no doubt that political parties (the NDC and the NPP) are essential to representative democracy. They represent competing ideas, offer alternatives to voters, mobilise citizens and create opportunities for peaceful changes in government. But there is an issue when political loyalty consistently interferes with independent judgement.

In Ghana, partisan identification provides many people with a sense of belonging, identity and emotional reassurance. It gives supporters a political community and the feeling that their preferred party represents their interests. But when that attachment becomes unconditional, it can numb their response to wrongdoing.

Imagine a scenario where a former or serving government official is facing allegations of corruption, mismanagement or questionable conduct. Party communicators and supporters rush to defend the individual, question the credibility of the investigating institutions or redirect attention to the conduct of a previous or opposing administration.

An allegation involving a member of one party quickly becomes an opportunity for the other to revisit controversies from its own time in office. The familiar questions follow; Who started the problem? Which government borrowed more? Which administration built more roads? Who was more corrupt?

I mean, these are legitimate questions in a functioning democracy. Historical context matters, and governments should be assessed against their predecessors where appropriate. However, comparisons should clarify responsibility, not erase it. The fact that a previous government committed similar mistakes does not absolve the current government. Likewise, criticism of an incumbent administration should not automatically become a defence of its predecessor.

A country cannot make meaningful progress if every demand for accountability is met with a counter-accusation.

The Ghanaian political scene also interestingly operates through the psychology of the divide trap. This is the tendency for citizens to become so invested in political groups that the success or failure of their side influences how they interpret reality.

When political identity becomes deeply embedded in one’s sense of self, criticism the party can feel like criticism of one’s own community or identity.

This creates an “us versus them” mentality.

When our side succeeds, we celebrate it as evidence of competence. When the opposing side succeeds, we search for reasons to diminish its achievements. When our party faces allegations of wrongdoing, we demand evidence and caution. When the opposing party faces similar allegations, we demand immediate punishment.

The same action can therefore be interpreted differently depending on who performs it.

This is the divide trap, reinforced by partisan motivated reasoning. People tend to accept information that confirms their political beliefs while dismissing information that challenges them. Over time, the question becomes less about whether something is true and more about whether it benefits their political side.

Instead of political parties being accountable to citizens, citizens begin to feel accountable to political parties.

Instead of asking, “Is this government doing the right thing?” we ask, “What will this mean for our party?”

Instead of asking whether an allegation is credible, we ask who is being accused. Rather than asking how the country can improve, we focus on how our side can defeat the other in the next election.

That is where partisan politics begins to resemble a drug to which we have become addicted.

Political arguments become emotionally satisfying while the material problems generating our frustrations remain unresolved.

A young person struggling to find employment may spend hours defending a political party online. A family facing rising living costs may spend an evening arguing about which government is responsible. A citizen frustrated by poor public services may defend an official simply because that official belongs to the party they support.

The irony is difficult to ignore. We can be fiercely committed to defending political leaders while complaining about the very conditions their decisions, or those of their predecessors, helped create.

One of the most troubling consequences of the divide trap is the transformation of accountability into a political weapon.

An investigation involving political opponents is celebrated as evidence that the rule of law is working. A similar investigation involving political allies is described as persecution, witch-hunting or political victimisation.

Political influence can exist within investigations, and not every allegation proves wrongdoing. Due process, credible evidence and the presumption of innocence are fundamental principles of justice.

But these principles must apply consistently, regardless of political affiliation.

If we believe in due process, we must believe in it when our opponents and our allies are investigated. If we believe corruption should be punished, we must demand accountability regardless of the political colours of those involved. If public officials should be held accountable, we cannot suspend that principle whenever an official belongs to our preferred party.

Otherwise, we are not defending principles. We are defending our side.

Public officials are not private representatives of party supporters. They exercise public authority and use public resources. Their primary obligation is to the Ghanaian people and the laws of the Republic, not to political parties.

Political disagreement is a natural and necessary part of democracy. But democracy should be more than a competition between two political camps.

A government initiative should not automatically be considered good because our party introduced it, nor should it automatically be condemned because the opposing party introduced it. Policies must be judged on their merits, politicians on their conduct, institutions on their performance and governments on whether their decisions improve people’s lives.

Yet political discussion increasingly seems less concerned with these judgements and more concerned with winning arguments for one’s preferred party.

From morning radio programmes to television discussions and social media, we debate who said what, who insulted whom, which party is responsible and which administration performed worse. Then tomorrow, we begin again.

Meanwhile, the unemployed graduate remains unemployed. The struggling farmer continues to face production challenges. Families confronting rising costs continue to struggle, while citizens waiting for better healthcare, education, roads and public services continue to wait.

The political argument has been won, but the problem remains.

The contradiction becomes even clearer when a party moves from opposition into government. While in opposition, its supporters demand transparency, accountability, respect for the rule of law and freedom of expression. Yet when that same party assumes power, some of those demands suddenly lose their urgency.

The standards used to criticise political opponents are not always applied to political allies. This inconsistency undermines the very democratic principles citizens claim to defend.

The problem is not that citizens support political parties. They have every right to believe that one party offers better policies, leadership or vision. The distinction is in whether that support remains open to evidence, criticism and reconsideration.

There is a difference between political loyalty and political blindness. There is a difference between defending a policy because one believes it is right and defending it simply because one’s party introduced it. There is also a difference between challenging an allegation because the evidence is inadequate and dismissing it because the accused belongs to one’s political camp.

Democracy requires the former, not the latter.

Breaking out of the divide trap does not mean abandoning our political parties. It means putting them in their proper place.

Parties exist to serve democracy. Democracy does not exist to serve political parties.

Our allegiance to Ghana must therefore be greater than our allegiance to any political party. We should be able to admit when our party is wrong, acknowledge when an opposing party introduces a good policy and criticise our preferred government without being accused of working for the opposition.

Equally, praising an opposing government should not amount to a betrayal of our political identity. These are not signs of political weakness. They are signs of democratic maturity.

The responsibility also extends to the media and political actors. Radio and television discussions should create room for evidence-based debate, meaningful policy analysis and scrutiny of all political parties. Political communicators must recognise that defending a party does not require defending every action taken by its members.

Journalists and media platforms must also avoid turning political conflict into entertainment simply because confrontation attracts attention. Citizens deserve discussions that help them understand policies, assess performance and hold public officials accountable, not endless exchanges that deepen political divisions without addressing national problems.

Citizens, too, must play their part. We cannot continuously complain about bad governance while rewarding those in realm of affairs with unconditional loyalty. We cannot demand accountability from the government we oppose and excuse the government we support.

Our political consciousness should be measured not by how fiercely we defend the NDC or the NPP, but by how consistently we demand honesty, transparency and accountability from whoever holds political power.

Regardless of who occupies the presidency, certain questions should remain central to our political conversations.

Are young Ghanaians finding meaningful employment? Can families afford a decent standard of living? Can citizens trust public institutions? Can public officials be held accountable? Can the country move beyond the familiar cycle of promises, disappointments, blame and political retaliation?

These are questions that should unite us. Yet the divide trap encourages us to see those on the other side of the political divide as enemies rather than fellow citizens who may be experiencing the same frustrations.

The NDC supporter and the NPP supporter may disagree passionately because of party identity, yet both may be struggling with the same economic pressures. Both may have children seeking employment. Both may complain about the same roads, schools, hospitals and public services.

Their political identities divide them, but their lived realities often unite them.

If we fail to recognise this, we risk becoming participants in a political cycle that continually demands our emotional loyalty while offering too little in return.

I’m not saying Ghanaians should stop caring about politics. But can we care about politics without allowing politics to control our judgement.

Can we support a party without surrendering our conscience? Can we oppose a government without romanticising its predecessor? Can we demand accountability from our own side with the same energy with which we demand it from the other?

And can we recognise that the greatest victory in a democracy is not the triumph of one political party over another, but the triumph of citizens over bad governance?

Until we do, partisan politics risks remaining “the opium of the us” keeping us emotionally occupied, politically divided and perpetually arguing while the deeper problems of our society remain largely untouched.

The question, therefore, is not simply, “Whose side are you on?” It is, “Whose interests are being served?”