By Ukes Baha | 2025
Labelling truth-tellers has never been a sign of strength. It is not the move of master strategists playing clever politics. It is the reflex of the guilty — the psychology of offenders who cannot face exposure. When the truth gets too close, they strike first, not with evidence, but with accusation.
The pattern is well known. A sexual offender, when confronted, calls their victim a liar, manipulative, or malicious. A fraudster brands the whistleblower bitter or unstable. A corrupt government smears reformers as radicals, extremists, or conspiracy theorists. Today, it calls them Wokes. Different words, same behaviour: flip the blame, smear the truth, and dodge accountability.
This is not strategy — it is survival instinct. It is projection: accusing others of the very crimes or failings you carry yourself. The corrupt label not because they are clever, but because they are cornered. They know that once truth is heard plainly from ordinary people, their system cannot stand. So they reframe the speaker, bury the evidence under stigma, and buy themselves time.
Labelling, then, is not an intellectual act. It is a guilty reflex — the first blow of corruption against those who dare to name it. And once the label sticks, the door is opened for the deeper tactics: division, hijack, and the poisoning of truth itself.
Psychologists already know this pattern well: offenders project guilt onto others to protect themselves. Instead of admitting fault, they flip the accusation. Corrupt systems follow this same script. Labelling isn’t clever politics — it is guilt in action, dressed up as strategy. The reasons are predictable, and always self-serving:
In short: labelling is not random. It is deliberate. It transforms truth-tellers from ordinary people into boxed, stigmatised “others.” And once that transformation is complete, the corrupt gain room to manoeuvre — free to protect their networks, bury their crimes, and prepare their next move.
Labelling is not random name-calling. It is calculated — both a shield and a weapon. Every smear thrown at a truth-teller buys the corrupt new cover, new time, and new space to continue their work. The benefits are clear:
In essence, labelling is the corrupt system’s insurance policy. It safeguards power, protects wealth, preserves networks of complicity, and buys the time needed to entrench control. It is never about truth — it is always about survival.
Labelling doesn’t end with the smear. It begins a cycle — a repeating pattern that keeps corruption safe while society is distracted. Each stage feeds the next, until truth itself is twisted into a weapon against the people. The cycle looks like this:
This cycle is not random. It is the operating system of corruption — a pattern designed to recycle opposition into fuel for further control. What begins as resistance ends as reinforcement. And unless exposed, the cycle never stops.
Labelling is not chess. It is not the clever move of strategists calculating steps ahead. It is psychology — the same psychology seen in everyday offenders when guilt is near. Liars do not simply defend themselves. They go on the attack. They turn defensive fear into offensive aggression, flipping blame before the truth can land.
This pattern is familiar. A sexual offender, when confronted, brands the victim a liar, vindictive, or malicious. A fraudster sues the whistleblower for “defamation.” Abusers accuse their accusers of dishonesty, instability, or bad faith. The guilty strike first — not to prove innocence, but to place their accuser on trial. This reflex is not intelligence. It is survival.
Corruption works the same way, only at scale. When reformers or citizens expose wrongdoing, the system doesn’t rebut with facts — it smears with labels. Radical. Extremist. Conspiracy theorist. Woke. By attacking the critic, corruption disguises its own guilt. The purpose is not to clear a name, but to bury truth under stigma, delay, and confusion.
What we call “labelling” is, at root, the offender’s reflex — projected onto society. It is the guilty psychology of individuals, reproduced through institutions. And once scaled, it becomes a weapon powerful enough not only to silence the truth, but to divide the people and even turn resistance into a new tool of corruption.
Labelling truth-tellers is not the mark of strategy. It is the mark of guilt. The corrupt do not label because they are strong — they label because they are cornered. Like all offenders, they flip blame, smear the victim, and attack the truth before it can settle. Labelling is their survival reflex: discredit the voice, divide the people, hijack the group, and recycle the cycle.
This is why new names always appear. Yesterday’s reformers were called conspiracy theorists. Today they are called woke. Tomorrow, a new label will be coined. The words change, but the tactic does not. Each label buys time, fractures unity, and shields the guilty from consequences. It is not brilliance. It is cowardice dressed as cleverness.
The real lesson is simple: truth is not a label, not a brand, not a hijacked movement. Truth is the ordinary people — all of us — before corruption divides us and twists our voices into weapons against ourselves. To resist corruption, we must see through the smear, refuse the label, and remember that truth needs no box, no brand, no permission. It stands on its own.