Abraham Lincoln once defined democracy as “the government of the people, by the people, for the people,” a vision rooted in equality, representation, and the welfare of all. It was intended to ensure that every citizen had a voice and that power was exercised in the service of the collective good, not for the privileged few. But in today’s world, this noble definition is increasingly losing its meaning.
The ideal of democracy as a just and inclusive system has been overshadowed by a rising tide of self-interest and unchecked ambition. Human beings, driven by greed rather than conscience, have begun to distort the very foundations of democratic governance. Instead of a system that serves the many, democracy now appears to be serving the few – those with wealth, influence, and the means to manipulate both votes and values.
Greed arises when individuals abandon their honesty in pursuit of selfish desires – be it for wealth, power, prestige, or personal gain. It is not a sudden phenomenon but a gradual erosion of ethical values, where truth is replaced by convenience and integrity is bartered for gain.
In the political realm, this greed is most visible during elections, when voters – who should be the guardians of democracy – transform into brokers of their own voices. They do not vote with conviction but by profit, selling their votes for money, goods, or favors. This transactional culture poisons the very roots of democratic participation.
During election seasons, political loyalty becomes a currency. People shift allegiances not based on ideology or public interest but on who pays more. Candidates understand this dynamic and compete not in ideas, but in how much they can spend to “win” the public. The highest bidder often secures the seat, not because of vision or credibility, but because they treat the electorate like a business investment. The democratic process thus becomes a financial exchange where leadership is auctioned to the greediest, not entrusted to the most deserving.
Once elected, such leaders quickly recover the money they spent during the campaign. They purchase vast amounts of land, send their children abroad for expensive education, build luxurious resorts, and expand their private businesses.
But where does all this money come from? It comes from the public, the very people who sold their votes. Luxury becomes their signature, while public welfare is sidelined. Their salaries alone cannot explain the opulence they display, because the money they flaunt is indirectly extracted from the public exchequer, from inflated contracts, misused funds, and diverted development schemes. And yet, the same public that funded their rise remains impoverished.
When issues arise, these leaders distance themselves from the very public to whom they once made grand promises of development. They avoid public dialogue, silence dissent, and treat protests not as calls for justice but as disruptions to their comfort.
Rather than walking among the people, they parade in beacon-fitted vehicles, insulated by protocol and guarded by security.
Their concern is not with justice or public need but with maintaining the image of authority. Governance becomes performative, a show staged for cameras, not a commitment fulfilled in action.
The idea of public service is replaced by a cult of self-interest.
Ironically, the very people who sell their votes for short-term gains are often the loudest in complaining about poor infrastructure, unemployment, and lack of development. During elections, many in the public willingly exchange their democratic power for cash, gifts, or petty favors, treating their vote as a commodity rather than a responsibility. They vote not with conscience, but with calculation, choosing those who offer the most in the moment, not those who promise long-term change. Yet, once the elections are over, the same citizens express outrage over broken roads, failing schools, and absent healthcare.
How can meaningful progress be expected when leadership is purchased rather than earned? In this transactional culture, both the buyer and the seller are to blame. Democracy cannot function when citizens themselves participate in its corruption, and then turn around to demand honesty, justice, and progress from the very system they helped deform.
So, we must ask ourselves: Is this what democracy was meant to be? A game of power played by the rich and watched by the poor? A system where elections are investments and leadership is profit-making? If this is the path we continue down, then democracy will not collapse with a bang, but with a quiet betrayal, from within, by those who were supposed to protect it. The only way forward is to reclaim democracy from the grip of greed and indifference. This demands more than just better leaders; it requires better citizens. Only those citizens who don’t sell their votes, who think about the future instead of quick rewards, and who understand that freedom comes with responsibility, can protect real democracy.
True democracy begins not at the voting machine, but in the conscience of every individual. Until we choose values over vanity, conscience over currency, and responsibility over reward, we will remain locked in this tragic cycle, where democracy, in practice, is no longer by the people, but tragically and undeniably, of the greedy, for the greedy, and by the greedy.
Dr. Avothung Ezung
Post-Doctoral Fellow (ICPR)
Dept. of Philosophy
NEHU, Shillong
Monday, September 1, 2025