Selective accountability and the politics of investigation

When a president refers to certain individuals for investigation but not others mentioned in the same breath, the public notices. It may not grasp every legal nuance. It lacks access to classified briefings or internal memoranda.

But it understands patterns. And when patterns appear uneven, questions follow. In a constitutional democracy, investigations are supposed to be guided by evidence, legal thresholds, and institutional independence. That is the principle. It separates a rules-based system from one driven by personalities and power blocs.

The law must not tilt depending on who stands before it. So, when some names are formally referred to, and others are not, the issue transcends the individuals involved. It is about the criteria. What determines who faces scrutiny and who escapes it? Several explanations are possible. Some are entirely legitimate.

Others are far more troubling. The first is the evidentiary threshold. It may be that only certain cases meet the standard required for referral. A president cannot and should not trigger investigations based on rumour or political noise.

There must be a prima facie basis. That is reasonable. But here the interrogation begins. Is that threshold applied consistently? If two individuals are implicated in testimony of similar weight, why is one referred to and the other not? If documentary evidence exists in both instances, what distinguishes the response?

Without clarity, consistency becomes a matter of faith rather than fact. The second explanation is institutional sensitivity. Some individuals occupy politically delicate positions. They may sit at the centre of coalition arrangements, internal party dynamics, or key governance portfolios. Referring them could trigger instability. It could shift alliances. It could even threaten legislative majorities.

Politics is not conducted in a vacuum. Leaders constantly balance accountability withstability. That is the reality of governance.But this balancing act carries risk. When political stability competes with legalaccountability, which wins?

And what message does that send?If accountability bends around those who are politically useful, investigations begin tolook less like instruments of justice and more like instruments of strategy.

This leads to the third possibility: political expediency. It is a strong phrase, but it cannot be ignored. In highly charged environments, referring certain individuals can serve multiple purposes. It can demonstrate decisive leadership. It can respond to public outrage. It can neutralise rivals. It can signal alignment with reform.

At the same time, withholding a referral can preserve internal cohesion. It can protectalliances. It can prevent factional escalation. None of this automatically proves bad faith. But perception matters. If the pattern of referrals coincides neatly with factional lines, the public will draw its own conclusions.

Once that suspicion settles, reversing it becomes extraordinarily difficult.  There is also the possibility of strategic sequencing. Investigations may be unfolding in stages. Some names may be referred to first, while others remain under review. Timing, in such cases, is procedural rather than political. But even sequencing requires transparency.

When decisions are unaccompanied by clear explanations of criteria, silence creates space for speculation. And speculation in political systems tends to harden into distrust. The deeper concern is not that some individuals are investigated and others are not. The deeper concern is impenetrability.

Democracies can survive scandal. They can survive intense political rivalry. What they struggle to survive with is selective accountability. Selective accountability corrodes because it weaponised justice. It suggests that the law is sharp when pointed outward and blunt when pointed inward. It implies that loyalty can function as insulation.

Over time, that perception erodes institutional legitimacy more effectively than any single scandal. The presidency carries enormous symbolic weight. Referral decisions are not administrative footnotes.

They are signals. They communicate how seriouslyleadership treats allegations of misconduct. They indicate whether accountability issystemic or situational.If the criteria for referral are clear, consistently applied, and publicly articulated, evencontroversial decisions can be defended.

Citizens may disagree, but they can seethe logic. They can assess it.If the criteria remain opaque, the vacuum fills with doubt.This is not about demanding reckless investigations or trial by media. It is aboutinsisting on coherence. If two cases appear similar, the response should be similar. Ifthey differ, the distinction should be explained in terms the public can understand.

A president must not only act. He must be seen to act consistently. In polarizedpolitical environments, consistency becomes a form of leadership. It reassures citizens that institutions are not factional tools.

It reinforces the idea that no one isshielded by proximity to power.Ultimately, the question is simple but profound: Are investigations being driven byevidence and law or by political calculation? Even if the answer is firmly rooted inlegality, it must be demonstrated, not assumed.

Because once citizens begin to believe that accountability depends on alignment, usefulness, or timing, the moral authority of the system begins to thin. And rebuilding that authority is far harder than protecting it in the first place.

That is why the pattern matters. Not for partisan gain. Not for spectacle. But for the integrity of the constitutional order itself.