Out on Loan: Political Prostitutes and the Death of Conviction

Liam Jacobs has returned to the Democratic Alliance after what appears to have been a brief loan spell at the Patriotic Alliance.

Unlike football, however, politicians insist every transfer is motivated by principle rather than career advancement.

When Jacobs left the DA for the PA, we were told it was about principle.

Now that he has left the PA and returned to the DA, we are told it is about principle again.

Curiously, principle seems to move around quite a lot in South African politics.

It packs its bags. Changes colours. Learns new slogans. Updates its social media biography. Then eventually returns home once circumstances become more favourable.

The problem is not Liam Jacobs.

The problem is what Liam Jacobs represents.

South African politics has become infested with a particular type of politician. The political migrant. The career nomad. The individual who can passionately defend one party on Monday, condemn it on Wednesday, and rejoin it by Friday while insisting nothing has changed except their understanding of the truth.

The public is expected to accept every move as a profound moral awakening.

It rarely is.

More often, it resembles something far less noble.

Politics used to be about conviction.

People joined political movements because they believed in certain ideas about society, government, freedom, justice, economics, or identity. They chose sides because they believed those sides represented something meaningful.

Today many politicians seem less interested in ideas than opportunities.

Parties have become stepping stones.

Political organisations have become career platforms.

Ideology has become branding.

Conviction has become negotiable.

The result is a political culture where loyalty means almost nothing.

And before anyone rushes to defend their favourite party, this problem exists everywhere.

The ANC has politicians who leave and return.

The EFF has defectors.

The DA has defectors.

The PA has defectors.

Nearly every major party has welcomed politicians from rival organisations while simultaneously condemning those who leave.

Political principles increasingly appear to have the shelf life of fresh milk.

Everyone speaks about values.

Very few seem willing to sacrifice anything for them.

This is where the phrase political prostitution becomes uncomfortable.

Not because it is inaccurate.

Because it is.

Political prostitution is the exchange of loyalty for personal benefit.

It is the willingness to sell conviction to the highest bidder.

It is the transformation of politics from public service into career management.

The politician changes jerseys, learns a few new talking points, updates their profile picture, and continues exactly as before.

The voters are expected to applaud.

The media is expected to analyse the strategy.

The political class is expected to welcome the newcomer.

And nobody is supposed to ask the obvious question.

What exactly do you believe?

Because if a politician can move effortlessly between organisations that claim to represent fundamentally different visions for South Africa, then either those differences are meaningless or their convictions were.

Neither answer inspires confidence.

Trust is already collapsing across South African society.

People do not trust government.

They do not trust municipalities.

They do not trust state institutions.

Increasingly, they do not trust politicians.

Can anyone really blame them?

South Africans are told to be loyal voters.

They are told to pick a side.

They are told that elections matter.

Yet many of the people asking for that loyalty seem unable to demonstrate the same loyalty themselves.

The message voters receive is simple.

Principles are for speeches.

Opportunities are for politicians.

Perhaps Liam Jacobs genuinely believes returning to the DA is the right decision.

Perhaps he does.

Only he knows his motivations.

But that is ultimately beside the point.

The larger issue is the political culture that allows these movements to occur so frequently that they barely surprise anyone anymore.

That should concern us.

Because healthy democracies require conviction.

They require politicians who are willing to lose because of what they believe.

They require leaders who stand for something larger than their own careers.

What we increasingly have instead are political free agents moving between organisations whenever circumstances change.

South African politics has become a transfer market.

Every election cycle brings new signings.

Every internal dispute creates new transfers.

Every ambitious politician begins looking for the next opportunity.

The jersey changes.

The slogans change.

The logos change.

But the career always seems to come first.

And perhaps that is the most damaging part of all.

When politicians treat politics as a profession rather than a calling, voters eventually begin treating democracy as a joke rather than a responsibility.

The real danger is not that politicians leave parties.

The real danger is that South Africans no longer expect conviction from those who claim to lead them.

And once a society stops expecting principles, it should not be surprised when principles disappear.