In the Shadow of the Father

A Dialogue on Dynastic Succession in Mauritius

By Plutonix

Characters:

* Socrates: The eternal inquirer, now wandering the digital agora of the 21st century.

* Cephalus: A successful, though slightly cynical, businessman and political observer, currently relaxing at a beachside veranda.

Setting: A cool, digital rendering of a veranda overlooking the turquoise lagoon of Mauritius. The sound of distant waves and a particularly loud, philosophical seagull can be faintly heard.

Socrates: (Appearing suddenly next to a plate of half-eaten gâteaux piment) Greetings, esteemed Cephalus! The air here is as sweet as the promise of a long, undisturbed sunset. Tell me, what great question occupies the mind of a citizen in this prosperous little isle?

Cephalus: (Startled, nearly dropping his glass of alouda) By the beard of Zeus, Socrates! Are you still about? I was merely contemplating the latest political melodrama — a local delicacy, you understand. Our problem is not profound philosophy, but simply who gets to run the sweet shop next.

Socrates: Ah, the perennial question of governance! But I hear whispers of a specific flavour of political confectionery here — something you call “Dynastic Politics.” It seems that in this modern, democratic republic, the mantle of leadership often falls, as if by magnetic force, upon the children and nephews of former leaders. Is this not so?

Cephalus: It is, regrettably, our national pastime. We are a nation of rotating political families. The names change slightly, but the surnames remain remarkably consistent. The Jugnauths, the Ramgoolams, the Duvals and now, the talk is all about the Bérenger clan and the MMM, a party once considered the enfant terrible of Mauritian democracy.

Socrates: The MMM? Ah, the Mauritian Militant Movement! A fine, fiery name, suggesting a perpetual struggle against the established order. Yet, I am informed that the daughter of its venerable leader, Paul Bérenger, a certain Joanna, is now rising through the ranks. Tell me, Cephalus, is the Militant Movement now simply a Militant Monarchy in waiting?

Cephalus: (Chuckles dryly) That is the very question stirring the pot! The irony is exquisite. The MMM was born to dismantle the old guard, yet its own structure now appears to be congealing around one family nucleus, much like the others. Joanna Bérenger, a newly elected parliamentarian, is now Vice-President of the party. The murmurs are inescapable: Is the leader grooming his heir?

Socrates: A compelling accusation! Let us pursue it. The core of the matter, as I perceive it, is this: Is a son or daughter of a political leader disqualified from high office solely by reason of their birth?

Cephalus: No, Socrates, of course not. That would be an absurd form of political ostracism! We are not living in the age of inherited titles, where talent is irrelevant.

Socrates: Excellent! Then we agree that the child must be judged upon the merits of their soul, not the merits of their surname. But tell me, Cephalus, what if the politician’s offspring is genuinely the most meritorious candidate? The most skilled, the most eloquent, the most dedicated? Should they decline the post merely to avoid the appearance of dynastic favouritism?

Cephalus: Ah, you pierce the veil of cynicism! That is the great defence, is it not? “She is the best candidate! She proved herself! The party elected her!” And Joanna herself has denied any ambition to take over, stating clearly: “La dynastie n’a aucune place chez les militants.”

Socrates: A noble denial! But now we must examine the nature of merit in politics. In the ordinary selection of a shoemaker, we judge his skill by the quality of his shoes. How do we judge political merit in a system where the candidate carries one of the most famous political brand names in the land?

Cephalus: We don’t. That is the problem. Their father’s name grants them three crucial things an ordinary citizen must spend a lifetime acquiring:
First is instant recognition: She does not need to introduce herself. Her name is the brand.
Second is access to networks: She inherits the father’s allies, contacts, and party structure.
Third is media gravity: Every move is a story, while the genuinely meritorious non-dynastic candidate toils in obscurity.

Socrates, the political arena is warped. A dynastic candidate begins the race on the finishing line. Even if she is meritorious, how can we prove her merit was the sole, or even the primary, factor for her success?

Socrates: So, the shadow of the father is so large that it obscures the true talent of the child. It seems the political market is not truly free but is distorted by inherited political capital. But let us return to the claim that the party freely voted her in.

Cephalus: (Sighs) Ah, the party vote. The party machinery, Socrates, especially in the Mauritian context, is rarely an engine of pure democratic choice. It is often a finely tuned instrument for executing the will of the leader.

Socrates: Meaning that the majority vote inside the party might be a manufactured consensus?

Cephalus: Precisely. A political party, even in a democracy, is composed of loyalists, aspirants hoping for nominations, and those who know better than to cross the man who signs the paycheques — or at least, the nomination papers.
The leader merely whispers a preference, and the majority suddenly discovers the unparalleled merit of the leader’s child. The vote becomes a mere ceremony of loyalty, not a genuine selection of the best.

Socrates: So, we are left in a dilemma:

* If the child is truly the best, we must allow them to lead, or else we lose the best possible ruler.

* But if we allow them to lead, we reward a system that prioritizes birth and name recognition over the cultivation of unconnected

Which, Cephalus, is the greater crime against the republic: To forgo the best possible ruler, or to undermine the very principle of meritocracy?

Cephalus: The latter, I fear. The purpose of a democracy is to provide a channel for the best people, from any background, to rise. Dynastic politics, by concentrating power, suggests that talent is a family inheritance, a genetic predisposition for governance. This creates a political caste that fosters cynicism among the general populace. They stop believing that their vote or their own effort can truly change the system.

Socrates: And cynicism, as we know, is the acid that corrodes the foundations of the polis. Now, consider the MMM’s historical reputation. They were once the party of radical change, the antidote to the old, entrenched families. What happens to the soul of a political party when it succumbs to the very malady it was founded to cure?

Cephalus: It loses its moral authority. It becomes just another vehicle for power. The young militants who once chanted slogans of revolution must now cheer for the leader’s daughter, reinforcing the very order they were supposed to overthrow.

Socrates: A tragic transmutation! The Militant Movement becomes merely the Managerial Monopoly of a single surname.

Cephalus: (Nods solemnly) And that is why Joanna Bérenger had to take to Facebook to issue her rebuttal — a modern-day oracle addressing the citizens. She must use social media to desperately declare she is not an heiress. The very necessity of the denial proves the depth of the suspicion.

Socrates: So, the answer to our initial question is not simply “Yes” or “No.” The answer is: The son or daughter is not disqualified by blood, but they are forever subject to a higher standard of proof, a double jeopardy of scrutiny. They must not only be meritorious, but they must prove that their merit overcame the gravitational pull of their name, not merely exploited it.

Cephalus: A fair judgment, Socrates. It seems the true challenge for a political dynasty is not winning elections but winning the trust that their success is due to skill alone, and not merely the surname stencilled on the ballot paper.

Socrates: Indeed. Until that trust is fully earned, the whispers will follow them like a persistent tropical shadow. But Cephalus, I perceive your glass is empty. Tell me, if this dynastic trend continues, what will happen when a completely unmeritorious son or daughter rises solely on the father’s name?

Cephalus: (Sighs and gestures to his waiter) Then, Socrates, we will all move to the opposition — at least until the next generation of the dynasty decides to stage a coup.

Socrates: (Taking the last gâteau piment) Indeed. It seems the political drama in this paradise island is as spicy as its snacks. And until you choose merit over magic surnames, my dear Cephalus, I shall return to continue this inquiry. Good fortune, and may your next leader be chosen by wisdom, not by parentage!

Mauritius Times ePaper Friday 21 November 2025