Global Issues
The Pragmatism of Principle: Redefining Loyalty in an Age of Change -By Florence Ozor
While I do not endorse political nomadism, one must acknowledge that strategic realignment can be expedient. Take Peter Obi: after the Labour Party, the platform that propelled his strong third-place finish, proved unstable, he moved to the African Democratic Congress (ADC). This raises an essential question: Should his migration be seen as disloyalty to his former party, or as a pragmatic act of loyalty to the nation, beyond partisan allegiance?
My recent reflections on loyalty have led to a change in perspective. I have begun to question traditional assumptions about loyalty as a rigid virtue, moving toward a revised conception of it as a fluid and adaptive quality. I now believe loyalty is far more dynamic and nuanced than its traditional portrayal as a rigid, unchanging allegiance.
Championed as humanity’s highest virtue, loyalty is conventionally revered as the pinnacle of character, an unwavering, ironclad fidelity to a person, ideal, or institution. It is often celebrated in its most rigid form, where those who stray from this steadfastness are perceived as morally flawed. This traditional view celebrates loyalty as an “unshakeable resolve”: the steadfast friend who never wavers, the supporter who stays “right or wrong,” or the partisan who never defects. This rigidity is praised because it signals reliability, honour, and moral strength. Deviating from it is quickly labelled betrayal, opportunism, or weakness.
In politics, especially, shifting alliances is often met with swift, unforgiving accusations of disloyalty, judgments made by an audience that rarely grasps the full context. But is loyalty inherently meant to be inflexible? Does adaptation necessarily signify betrayal? Or might true loyalty lie in its capacity to adapt—to remain fluid in form yet constant in principle? Perhaps authentic loyalty is found precisely in this balance: the wisdom to evolve without abandoning one’s foundational values. This reframing invites us to reconsider loyalty not as a static virtue, but as a dynamic, practised, and principled discernment.
Rigid loyalty, the blind allegiance to a leader, party, or ideology, regardless of changing circumstances, can trap individuals and stunt societies. It risks enabling corruption, extremism, or outdated policies simply because “that’s how it’s always been.” In politics, this manifests in tribalism, where supporters defend actions that contradict their own values. Such unwavering commitment often prioritises group identity over principles, turning loyalty into a tool for power rather than progress.
True loyalty, by contrast, demands nuance and maturity. It is not about never questioning or never changing course; it is about holding fast to core values of justice, integrity, empathy, and mutual interest, while adapting to new realities. Its flexibility fosters deeper understanding and more resilient bonds. This does not mean abandoning commitments lightly; fickleness is its own problem, but it does mean allowing loyalty to breathe, evolve, and sometimes redirect to stay true to its essence. This fluidity isn’t disloyalty; it is loyalty in its truest form.
My refined view is this: Loyalty is anything but rigid; in truth, it defies rigidity. In its healthiest and most valuable form, it is a dynamic virtue that requires fluidity and adaptability while preserving core values. It demands a nuanced reading of people, evolving relationships, and shifting circumstances. Far from being static, loyalty is perhaps the most fluid of human virtues. This very adaptability, a hallmark of strong character, fosters deeper empathy and understanding, allowing us to navigate the intricate dynamics of human interactions.

Peter Obi
This principle finds a powerful test in politics, where loyalty is often fluid, shaped by power, survival, and shifting goals. Consider Nigeria’s current pre-election climate, which has triggered a flood of party defections under intense public scrutiny. While I do not endorse political nomadism, one must acknowledge that strategic realignment can be expedient. Take Peter Obi: after the Labour Party, the platform that propelled his strong third-place finish, proved unstable, he moved to the African Democratic Congress (ADC). This raises an essential question: Should his migration be seen as disloyalty to his former party, or as a pragmatic act of loyalty to the nation, beyond partisan allegiance?
I believe loyalty must remain conditional—owed ultimately to values, principles, and the greater good, not to individuals or institutions. As circumstances change, so too must our allegiances, lest fidelity become complicity. In this light, such principled realignment does not weaken democracy; it actively strengthens it, serving as a necessary safeguard.
In an era of rapid change, shifting alliances, evolving ideologies, and global challenges, loyalty’s dynamism may be its greatest strength. Rather than an unyielding anchor, it becomes a compass: guiding us through uncertainty while staying true to what matters most. Perhaps the highest praise for loyalty is not that it never wavers, but that it adapts wisely, enduring because it evolves. In politics and beyond, this approach can lead to healthier coalitions, more honest discourse, and ultimately, stronger societies.
Florence Ozor
