Rules in the North, Reality in the South

When Gordon Brown publicly said he “deeply regretted” bringing Peter Mandelson back into government, it sounded like the kind of rare political confession that democracies celebrate.

Accountability. Reflection. Reform.

But beneath that apology lies a more uncomfortable truth, not just for Britain, but for the Global South watching closely.

Mandelson’s long association with Jeffrey Epstein, the allegations of sharing sensitive information, and the extraordinary fact that he was still entrusted with the UK’s most important diplomatic posting only months ago, expose something deeper than individual failure. They reveal how modern governance systems can look ethically sophisticated while remaining structurally permissive to elite misconduct.

For readers in India, Africa, or Latin America, this story lands differently.

Because many of us have grown up with corruption that is visible, transactional, and unapologetic.
The West, by contrast, offers something more comforting: registers of interest, disclosure regimes, ethics advisers, vetting panels, and parliamentary codes. It feels cleaner. More civilised.

But is it?

Or is it simply better dressed?

Two kinds of corruption

In much of the Global South, corruption is often blunt.

A bribe at a municipal office. A politically connected contractor. A transfer order reversed after a phone call from above. The machinery is crude, but transparent in its own way. Citizens may feel powerless, yet they usually understand what is happening.
In advanced democracies, corruption has evolved.

It is rarely envelopes of cash. Instead, it is access.

Introductions over dinner. Advisory roles after retirement. Informal conversations that never appear in official diaries. Market-sensitive insights framed as “background.” Networks that operate below the radar of disclosure rules.

Political scientists call this institutional corruption: behaviour that may remain technically lawful while systematically diverting public institutions from their intended purpose.

The Mandelson episode fits this pattern uncomfortably well.

There were rules. There were disclosures. There was vetting. Yet a highly networked political figure allegedly maintained ties with a convicted sex-offender financier, is accused of passing sensitive information, and still passed through appointment processes meant to protect national integrity.

That is not a failure of paperwork.

It is a failure of structure.

The comforting illusion of Western morality

Western democracies excel at producing ethical architecture. They create committees, codes, registers, and independent advisers. These frameworks generate public reassurance.

But reassurance is not restraint.

Most of these systems rely on three fragile assumptions:
1.    That powerful actors will disclose fully.
2.    That institutions will verify rigorously.
3.    That consequences will be swift.

Remove any one, and ethics becomes theatre.

Brown himself acknowledged that when Mandelson was reappointed in 2008, he was told there were “no adverse reports.” That may well have been true. But absence of documentation is not absence of risk. It simply means relationships — the most potent currency of influence, were never formally captured.

This is where the Global South should pay attention.

Many developing nations import Western-style integrity frameworks: asset declarations, vigilance commissions, procurement rules. But without independent enforcement and political will, these become decorative.

What the Mandelson affair shows is that even mature systems can be gamed by sophisticated insiders.

So when international consultants advise countries like India or Nigeria to “strengthen disclosure mechanisms,” they are offering only half a solution.

Disclosure without enforcement is symbolism.

Networks beat rulebooks — everywhere

Do Western frameworks provide a comforting disguise, while corruption in developing nations is bare-naked?

That is partly true , but the deeper distinction is not moral. It is operational.
In the Global South, power is often vertical and visible. Patronage flows downwards through political hierarchies. In the West, power is horizontal and relational. Influence flows sideways through elite networks.

Both produce distortion.
The difference is aesthetic.

In Delhi or Dhaka, a citizen may know exactly which politician controls which contractor.
In London or Washington, influence hides behind consultancy titles, speaking engagements, and “informal advice.”
But the underlying dynamic is the same: proximity to power bends systems.

Mandelson’s case illustrates this perfectly. His accumulated institutional capital — experience, connections, perceived usefulness, outweighed reputational concerns. The system quietly shifted from asking “should we?” to asking “how do we make this work?”

That is not corruption in the cinematic sense. It is structural deference.
And structural deference is far harder to confront.

Why the ambassador appointment matters

Brown now argues for public confirmation hearings for senior appointments, including ambassadors — US Senate-style scrutiny.

This is not a technical reform. It is philosophical.

It recognises that internal vetting plus executive discretion is inadequate when elite networks are involved. Public questioning introduces friction. It forces uncomfortable conversations before power is granted.

In many Global South countries, ambassadorial appointments are openly political. Few pretend otherwise.
Britain pretends.

And that pretence is precisely what makes this scandal so revealing.

Transparency arrived after the damage.

That is accountability in reverse.

Is this the tip of the iceberg?

Brown is careful not to accuse the entire political class. But he is explicit that Britain suffers from a recurring cycle: scandal, outrage, cosmetic reform, relapse.

This pattern is familiar across the Global South too.

The difference is that developing nations rarely enjoy the illusion that their systems are fundamentally sound.
Western democracies do.
That illusion is dangerous.
It allows societies to treat each scandal as an anomaly rather than as evidence of systemic vulnerability.

What the Global South should learn

The lesson here is not that “everyone is corrupt.”
It is that systems designed around trust collapse under bad-faith elites.

Whether in London or Guwahati, Nairobi or New York, integrity frameworks fail when they rely on voluntary disclosure, informal vetting, and elite self-policing.

Real reform requires:

• Independent investigative bodies with teeth
• Statutory ethics enforcement
• Public scrutiny before major appointments
• Severe limits on revolving doors
• And, most importantly, cultural rejection of the idea that powerful networks deserve special latitude

Without these, ethics becomes branding.

A final reflection

In developing nations, citizens often know their governance systems are compromised.

In advanced democracies, citizens are reassured that safeguards exist — even when those safeguards are porous.
That may be the most profound difference.
The Global South sees corruption as a lived reality.
The West packages it in procedure.
But corruption does not disappear when it wears a suit.
It simply learns better manners.

The Mandelson–Epstein episode should therefore not be read as a British scandal alone. It is a global warning: that rules without structural enforcement become comforting myths, and that democracy cannot survive on compliance rituals alone.
The real divide is not between North and South.

It is between systems that merely signal morality and those that genuinely constrain power.
And on that measure, much of the world, rich and poor alike, still has serious work to do.

(The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of India Today NE or its affiliates)