Gbarnga, Bong County – When Representative Marvin Cole stood beside Nimba County lawmaker Musa Hassan Bility Saturday and hoisted the banner of the Citizens Movement of Change (CMC), it marked a bold political turn. But in Bong County — where political shifts are often read more in intent than in action — one question lingers in hushed conversations and open debates alike: Is Rep. Cole’s move a sincere ideological shift, or a maneuver for survival in a changing political landscape?
From the outside, the optics of loyalty seem clear — new party, new leadership, and a symbolic handover of Bong County’s “key” to Rep. Bility, the CMC leader. But beneath the surface, political watchers and even some of Rep. Cole’s closest supporters believe his heart still beats for the Coalition for Democratic Change (CDC), the party that gave him power, prestige, and political identity.
“Cole may wear CMC colors now,” remarked one long-time supporter during his crossover ceremony, “but we all know where his loyalty lies. This isn’t about Bility — it’s about staying relevant.”
Liberian politics has long blurred the lines between ideological allegiance and opportunistic repositioning. Rep. Cole’s switch to CMC comes at a critical moment in his career — amid scandals, public backlash, and a steep decline in political leverage following the CDC’s fall from power.
Observers note that the move mirrors a pattern among Liberian politicians who, once cut off from the state’s resource faucet, scramble to affiliate with whoever holds — or is perceived to hold —financial power. Rep. Bility, a wealthy businessman-turned-politician, fits that bill.
Sources within Bong County political circles say Rep. Cole, once lavished with pickups, fuel, and cash under the CDC regime, is now pivoting to Rep. Bility in hopes of replicating the same patron-client relationship that kept him afloat politically. In blunt terms, as one insider put it, “Marvin used to chase McGill’s wallet. Now he’s chasing Bility’s.”
Critics of Rep. Cole’s recent move frame it not as betrayal but as a survival instinct honed within Liberia’s broken patronage system. In online forums and on radio shows, some argue that Rep. Cole is merely exploiting a system that has long allowed politicians to extract from the state — and from each other — without accountability.
A viral message making the rounds in Bong County read: “Should we even blame Rep. Cole? No. The loose money wasn’t coming from McGill’s pocket. Rep. Cole saw the opening and navigated. It’s called stealing from those who stole from the poor through the rotten system.”
This narrative may seem jaded, but it resonates with a public increasingly disillusioned by politics-as-usual. For many Liberians, Rep. Cole’s shift isn’t shocking — it’s expected.
During his CMC launch appearance, the crowd’s makeup told its own story. CDC loyalists were present in noticeable numbers, many still wearing CDC paraphernalia. Some admitted they weren’t there for Rep. Bility or the new party, but for Rep. Cole himself.
“Marvin is our own. Wherever he goes, we’ll go to support him,” one attendee told FrontPageAfrica. “But CDC is our party. Don’t confuse the two.” This separation between political identity and personal loyalty complicates how Rep. Cole’s shift will be received in the long term. While he may drag some supporters along to the CMC, it’s unlikely he can build a new base from scratch — especially if his old base sees the move as transactional.
What makes this political realignment more fraught is Rep. Cole’s declining influence. Once a powerful mobilizer in Bong County, he now struggles with damaged credibility. His recent three-month suspension from the House of Representatives for disorderly conduct has exposed a new vulnerability.
The man who reportedly spent nearly one million Liberian dollars weekly in his district during the CDC regime has been unable to contribute a single to disaster victims in recent months. During a violent storm that displaced residents of his district recently, Rep. Cole was notably absent. Earlier, residents of Gbarmu Town accused him of mismanaging social development funds tied to the Hurine Mining Company. Protests turned fiery, with a bridge burned and several demonstrators arrested. Cole’s name was at the center of the fury — not as a representative, but as a perceived enabler of corporate neglect.
Insiders from both the CDC and CMC remain skeptical of Rep. Cole’s loyalties. Some within the CMC describe him as a political migrant seeking comfort, not conviction. “Marvin is here,” a CMC source said, “but is he really with us? Or just buying time?” Meanwhile, in CDC circles, Rep. Cole’s departure is seen less as abandonment and more as a temporary detour. He remains in touch with CDC figures and has made no public criticisms of the party — a sign, analysts say, that he may still be hedging his bets.
Rep. Cole’s story is emblematic of the broader realities of post-election Liberia — a place where political migration is less about policy and more about positioning. Whether his decision to join CMC will rejuvenate his career or mark the beginning of political irrelevance is yet to be determined.
But one thing is clear he’s a politician in transition, operating between two parties, unsure of where he truly belongs — or where he’ll land next. For now, Cole remains an ambiguous figure — caught between ambition and fallout, between loyalty and leverage, between CDC and CMC.