I recently remarked to a friend about a relative of hers who had joined politics, “I didn’t realize he had an interest in government service.”
“It’s a business, you know,” my friend matter-of-factly replied to me.
I didn’t expect that answer. And I didn’t expect such candor.
I always thought that people entered government service with a genuine desire to help others, not to enrich themselves. I always thought everyone started out with integrity but that along the way, many simply get swallowed up by the corrupt system so that they become corrupt themselves.
I was thinking along the lines of temptation, not premeditation. Because what kind of person would join government service with malversation of funds in mind? But I guess I’m more naïve than I think.
That’s probably why politicians cling to their positions. It’s not just the power and adulation they want to hold on to, it’s the millions. Though for some, it’s billions.
A friend who worked for the government once told me that I wouldn’t last a day in government service. He told me the system was so nefarious that those who couldn’t beat the system or refused to join the corruption party, would be compelled to leave.
There are good people who join the government with lofty goals, he told me. But soon enough, they learn that if they don’t go along with the corrupt practices of those higher up in the totem pole, they lose much-needed funds necessary to serve their constituents.
They don’t voluntarily affix their signatures to anomalous transactions knowing fully well that when push comes to shove, they will go to jail while the higher-ups who pressured them to participate in wrongdoing, go scot-free. They acquiesce because their allocations are being held hostage by the corrupt powers-that-be.
No allocation means no assistance to their constituents.
And that’s why he says I wouldn’t last a day in government service. He is certain I couldn’t stomach government’s reprobate standard operating procedures.
I have no experience in government but I have witnessed wrongdoing in institutions. And regrettably, I, too, stayed silent and went along with it because I didn’t want to be labeled difficult. Ultimately, I chose to leave while I still knew right from wrong.
No money was involved. But there was wrongdoing. I couldn’t accept it as norm. I left because I did not want to end up like a lot of people today who start justifying their actions because they can no longer tell right from wrong when wrongdoing becomes the norm.
I’ve seen many good people turned by greed, how their love for money, power and success have pushed them to sell their souls. I don’t want to be like them. And I fervently pray I never become like them.
Not everyone in government is corrupt but everyone in government is guilty.
Some politicians don’t participate in thievery but they enjoy the fruits of thievery. And so, they stay silent. By far, the most effective silencer is shared guilt.
And then there are those who know what’s going on but say nothing because they don’t want to fall out of favor or don’t want to get into trouble. Their silence buys them political survival.
If they are not guilty of collusion, they are guilty of complicity—as we all are.
We don’t have to personally participate in the raid of the nation’s coffers to be guilty. We don’t have to benefit directly from the fruits of corruption to be guilty. We only need to know about the corruption and thievery that’s going on in our government and not do anything about it, to be guilty of complicity.
We can choose not to be guilty.