The undue influence of money on our politics is like a cancer

The words of Marianne Williamson — “The undue influence of money on our politics is like a cancer underlying other cancers, the issue underlying all other issues” — strike with the force of a prophet’s warning. For she likens greed to a hidden plague, not content to wound one limb, but spreading unseen, weakening the whole body of society. Just as a cancer begins small and silent before consuming the flesh, so does the unchecked power of wealth gnaw at the heart of nations, corrupting laws, silencing justice, and turning leaders into servants of gold rather than guardians of the people.

In these words, we are reminded that the sickness of corrupted politics does not stand alone. When money rules, schools falter, healthcare decays, wars are waged for profit, and the cries of the poor are drowned by the jingling of coins. The issue is not one among many, but the root from which countless others spring. To treat poverty without curing corruption is like dressing wounds while leaving the poison to spread. Williamson’s imagery awakens us to the truth: if the root is rotten, so too will be the fruit.

History offers us grave examples. In the late Roman Republic, wealth and bribery seeped into every office, twisting the Senate into a marketplace of ambition. The Gracchi brothers rose to challenge this decay, seeking land reform and justice for the common people. Yet they were struck down, not by fair debate, but by the daggers of those whose fortunes they threatened. Rome, consumed by the influence of money, stumbled into tyranny and civil war. Thus the ancient world teaches us: when gold reigns above honor, collapse follows.

Even in modern times, the tale repeats. Consider the rise of monopolies in the Gilded Age of America, when vast fortunes bent governments to their will. Workers toiled in misery while the wealthy dictated the laws. Only through fierce struggle — the courage of reformers, the cries of unions, the will of the people — was balance partially restored. Here we see the truth of Williamson’s words: the battle against the cancer of money is not new, but eternal, demanding vigilance in every age.

Let the generations remember: gold may buy thrones, but it cannot buy trust. Politics rooted in love of money breeds despair, but politics rooted in love of people bears hope. If the disease of greed is left to fester, it shall consume all. But if men and women of courage cut it out, nations may yet heal, and justice may flourish like a tree planted by living waters. This is the wisdom Williamson bequeaths: cure the root, and the whole body will rise in health.