A Subsidy Disguised as Strategy

Beneath the rhetoric lies a familiar reality—public losses, private gains, and political survival

There is a dangerous and intellectually dishonest narrative taking root in Guyana—one that seeks to chain the survival of a failing, state-subsidised sugar industry to the success of a highly profitable private rum company.

Prime Minister Mark Phillips’ claim that Guyana “cannot produce world-class rum without sustaining sugar production” is not only misleading—it is a calculated deflection from the real issue: decades of unchecked public spending on an industry that has consistently failed to justify its cost.
Let us deal in facts, not sentiment.

GuySuCo has absorbed tens of billions of dollars in taxpayer subsidies over the past three decades. Year after year, it has failed to produce sugar at a cost competitive with global prices. It remains structurally inefficient, operationally challenged, and financially dependent on the Treasury for survival.

In stark contrast stands Demerara Distillers Limited (DDL)—a private, profit-making corporation that has successfully repositioned itself in the global premium rum market. It has done what efficient enterprises do: adapt, innovate, and grow.
But here is the contradiction the Prime Minister refuses to confront.
If DDL’s success truly depends on sugar, then why is the Guyanese taxpayer being asked to subsidize that dependency? Why is a private company’s supply chain risk being transferred onto the public balance sheet?

Serious businesses do not operate this way. They secure their inputs. They invest in their supply chains. They acquire or partner where necessary to ensure stability and control. If molasses is as indispensable as the government claims, then DDL should be at the forefront of acquiring, restructuring, or directly investing in sugar production.
That is what vertical integration looks like. That is what responsibility looks like.
Anything less is a quiet but deliberate socialization of cost and privatization of profit.

And the question that exposes the fragility of the Prime Minister’s argument is this: what happens when the subsidies stop?
If a future administration—faced with mounting fiscal pressures or shifting priorities—decides it can no longer justify injecting billions into GuySuCo, does DDL cease operations? Or does it simply source molasses from the international market, as any rational business would?
The answer is obvious—and it dismantles the entire premise.

Which brings us to the uncomfortable truth at the heart of this policy posture: this is not economics. This is politics.
The continued subsidization of sugar has long functioned as an electoral instrument—preserving jobs in key constituencies, sustaining rural economic dependencies, and maintaining a support base that is politically valuable. In that context, the invocation of rum is not an economic argument; it is a convenient narrative, designed to make an unsustainable policy appear strategically necessary.

A political necessity is being dressed up as an economic imperative.

Yes, sugar is part of Guyana’s history. Yes, rum is part of its identity. But history cannot be financed indefinitely by taxpayers, and identity cannot be used to obscure fiscal irresponsibility.

If the government believes sugar has a future, it must present a transparent, time-bound plan for viability, with measurable outcomes and accountability. If it does not, then it must stop constructing artificial linkages to justify its continued existence.
Guyanese are not blind to this contradiction. They are being asked, year after year, to fund losses they do not control, for benefits that are politically distributed but economically unsound.

Guyana cannot build a modern economy on this foundation.
It is not strategy. It is subsidy without end, sustained by political convenience and disguised as national pride—and it is time that fiction is called out for what it is.

The question is no longer whether rum depends on sugar. The question is why the Guyanese taxpayer is being asked to carry a burden that private enterprise itself is unwilling to assume.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. — ✦—

A Servant of the State Has Become an Instrument of Suppression

BY: Staff— Writer

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣.    

When an unelected REO does the work of elected Regional officials, it is not governance — it is the PPP’s velvet-gloved coup against democracy in Region 10.

The photographs tell a story that no government press release will ever dare to tell. A newly appointed Regional Executive Officer — an unelected civil servant, a political appointee who has never once placed his name before the people of Region 10 — is pictured tramping through communities, consulting with residents, inspecting drains, and conducting field visits. On the surface, it looks like diligence. Look closer, and it is something far more sinister.

That is the work of the Regional Chairman and Vice-Chairman. It is constitutionally mandated, democratically earned work — belonging to the elected representatives of the We Invest in Nationhood (WIN) party, who won the Regional Democratic Council of Region 10 fair and square at the 2025 local government elections. The people of Linden and its surrounding communities spoke. They chose their representatives. And the PPP-led government, apparently allergic to the democratic verdict wherever it does not favour them, has decided those representatives simply will not function.

The REO Is Not a Chairman. The Constitution Says So.
Let us be unambiguous about what a Regional Executive Officer is, and what he is not. The REO is the Accounting Officer of the Regional Democratic Council. He is an administrator — appointed, not elected — tasked with managing the financial and administrative machinery of the RDC. His role is to serve the Regional Chairman and the democratically constituted Regional Administration. He is a functionary. He is not a policymaker. He is certainly not a substitute Chairman.

The Regional Democratic Council is a creature of the Constitution of the Cooperative Republic of Guyana. Chapter 7, Article 72 of that Constitution establishes Local Democratic Organs as part of the architecture of participatory governance in this country. The elected Chairman and Vice-Chairman derive their authority directly from the people. No President, no Minister of Local Government, and no hand-picked REO can lawfully strip them of that authority — not without tearing pages from the very Constitution the PPP government swore to uphold.
What is happening in Region 10 is precisely that — a tearing of pages.

Victimization Dressed in a High-Visibility Vest
The PPP’s strategy is not new. It has been deployed before, against other regions, against other opposition-controlled councils. Where they cannot win at the ballot box, they strangle through administration. Resources are withheld. Statutory allocations are delayed. And when all else fails, they empower the REO — their man, their appointee — to simply do the job of the elected officials, rendering the Chairman and Vice-Chairman ceremonial figureheads with titles but no territory.

This is victimization. Not the kind that is loud and obvious — no one is being arrested, no office has been padlocked.

This is the creeping, bureaucratic, suffocating kind of victimization that is designed to frustrate, to humiliate, and ultimately to delegitimize a duly elected Regional Administration in the eyes of its own constituents. If residents see the REO in the field addressing their concerns while their Chairman is nowhere to be found — not because he refuses to serve, but because he is being systematically locked out of the tools and authority needed to serve — what conclusion are they meant to draw?
That is the calculation. That is the intention.

The Government Cannot Have It Both Ways
This administration speaks endlessly of constitutional governance. President Ali invokes the rule of law at every press conference and international forum. Ministers lecture the opposition about respecting state institutions. Yet here, in Region 10, a constitutional body — the Regional Democratic Council — is being functionally neutered by the very government that claims to be democracy’s guardian.

You cannot celebrate the Constitution on Independence Day and desecrate it on every other day of the year. You cannot demand that opposition parties respect electoral outcomes nationally while engineering the collapse of those same outcomes at the regional level. The hypocrisy is not merely breathtaking — it is dangerous. It tells every Guyanese citizen who does not carry a PPP membership card that their vote has a ceiling, that democracy in this country is conditional, and that the Constitution is a document of convenience rather than a covenant of governance.

Region 10 Deserves Better. Guyana Deserves Better. The 592 Guardian calls on the Minister of Local Government and Regional Development to immediately cease and desist from any directive — formal or informal — that empowers the REO of Region 10 to usurp the functions constitutionally belonging to the elected Regional Chairman and Vice-Chairman.

We call on the Integrity Commission and the relevant oversight bodies to investigate whether the conduct of the REO, and those who have directed him, constitutes a breach of the constitutional order.

We call on civil society, the Bar Association of Guyana, and all defenders of democratic governance to speak with one voice: what is happening in Region 10 is not administration. It is occupation.

And we say to the people of Region 10 — your vote was not wasted. Your mandate was real. The attempt to erase it is the clearest possible evidence that those in power fear what you represent: an independent, determined electorate that will not be bought, bullied, or bypassed.

That is a power no REO, however willing, can ever take from you.

𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬.

BY: Staff— Writer

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣.  

President Irfaan Ali says he is “not playing politics with potholes.” It is a neat line—clean, memorable, and designed to reassure.

But governance is not theatre. And the reality unfolding in Georgetown tells a more complicated story.

The decision to unilaterally assume control of more than 50 city roads is not just about fixing infrastructure. It is about power—how it is exercised, how it is expanded, and how easily it can blur the line between public service and political strategy.

Let us not pretend otherwise.

No one disputes that Georgetown’s roads need urgent attention. Citizens have endured years of neglect, and any effort to improve infrastructure should, in principle, be welcomed. But good governance is not defined by outcomes alone—it is defined by process, legitimacy, and respect for institutions.

And this is where the administration falters.

Political authority is not earned by wresting control of municipal assets under the banner of efficiency. That is not leadership. That is the use of central power to override local 

governance—because it is convenient, because it is expedient, and perhaps, because it is politically advantageous.

𝙂𝙚𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙣’𝙨 𝘾𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙡, 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙗𝙚, 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚. 𝙄𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨—𝙤𝙛 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙨𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙖 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧, 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨.

Because every time central government sidesteps or diminishes a locally elected body, it sends a message: that the voice of the people at that level can be bypassed when it becomes inconvenient.

That is a dangerous precedent.

If the administration believes the City Council is incapable of managing Georgetown, then there is a democratic remedy readily available—return to the people.

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙜𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨. 𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙚. 𝙒𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚.

That is how legitimacy is earned.

Anything less risks being seen not as governance, but as encroachment.

And while the President speaks of long-term planning and integrated transport systems, the immediate reality is far more visible: freshly paved roads that will, inevitably, be credited to central government. Optics matter in politics, and infrastructure is among the most powerful political tools any administration can wield.

Which is precisely why this moment demands scrutiny.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙥𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙚𝙭𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨, 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙣𝙚𝙪𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙡. 𝙄𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙄𝙩 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚. 𝙄𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡.

𝙁𝙞𝙭𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙙𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙧𝙮. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚.

True transformation lies in confronting the structural inequities that continue to define everyday life for many Guyanese—stagnant wages, gaps in healthcare, uneven access to quality education, and the unresolved question of whether the country’s oil wealth is being maximized for its people.

These are not as visible as asphalt. They do not deliver immediate political dividends. But they are the measures by which leadership is ultimately judged.

The risk here is not that Georgetown’s roads are being repaired. The risk is that the method chosen undermines the very democratic principles that give governance its legitimacy.

Power, if it is to be respected, must also be restrained.

President Ali insists this is not politics.

But when control is expanded without consent, when institutions are bypassed rather than strengthened, and when visibility aligns so neatly with political advantage, the public is entitled—indeed obligated—to question that claim.

Yours truly will continue to defend not just development, but the democratic framework within which it must occur.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙙𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙩.

𝙋𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙘 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩, 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙙, 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙚.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮

Let us speak plainly.

No amount of administrative maneuvering can substitute for democratic legitimacy. The People’s Progressive Party/Civic may assume control of streets, expand its administrative reach, and reshape the operational map of Georgetown—but it cannot rewrite the political reality that has defined the city for decades.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙋𝙋𝙋 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙣 𝙂𝙚𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙜𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨.

Because political power, in any democracy worthy of the name, is not secured through the gradual absorption of authority. It is earned—openly, competitively, and decisively—at the ballot box.

What is unfolding now risks creating a distinction the public will not ignore: control without consent.

Yes, roads may be paved. Yes, projects may be completed. Yes, visibility may increase. But none of these amount to validation. None of these confer the moral or political authority that only the electorate can grant.

If anything, they sharpen the contrast.

Because when a government exercises power in spaces it has historically failed to win, without first returning to the people for a mandate, the question is unavoidable: is this governance—or is this substitution?

The answer will not be found in infrastructure.

It will be found in whether the administration is willing to subject its ambitions in Georgetown to the only test that truly matters—free, fair, and fully contested elections.

𝙐𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣, 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩: 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙘𝙮. 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮.

Editor’s Note: This article was first published in March 2026. These streets were unilaterally taken from the City under the guise of development. Two months later, the true motives behind these actions have become evident.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. — ✦—

Washington’s pressure campaign is now a Caribbean test

BY: Hem Kumar                                

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

The United States’ latest move against former Cuban President Raúl Castro is more than a legal action tied to an old case. It is a fresh reminder that Washington’s pressure campaign against Havana has entered a more aggressive phase, with consequences that could reverberate far beyond Cuba’s shores.

What is being presented as an indictment over a 30-year-old tragedy is also part of a broader strategy of coercion. The timing matters. The Trump administration has already escalated its regional posture, tightened pressure on Cuba, and signaled that it is willing to use every instrument of state power — legal, economic, diplomatic, and potentially military — to force political change in the hemisphere.

That is why the Caribbean should be paying close attention.

Why CARICOM should be alarmed
For CARICOM, the central issue is not whether the deaths from the 1996 shootdown deserved accountability. They did. The issue is whether the United States is now normalizing a model in which indictments, sanctions, blockades, and strategic intimidation become tools for disciplining small states in the region.

If that becomes acceptable practice, then the principle of sovereign equality weakens for everyone in the Caribbean.

CARICOM states are not abstract observers in this matter. They are small, open economies that depend heavily on rules, predictability, diplomacy, and respect for international law. A hemisphere governed by pressure politics is a hemisphere in which small states lose leverage. Once great powers decide that regime preference justifies coercion, the region becomes more vulnerable to disruption, instability, and external interference.

There is also the humanitarian dimension. The tightening squeeze on Cuba has already contributed to blackouts, shortages, and deepening hardship for ordinary people. That suffering does not stay neatly confined within national borders. It can intensify migration pressures, strain regional systems, and create additional burdens for neighboring states that are already operating with limited capacity.

Guyana’s foreign policy challenge
Guyana has a particular responsibility to navigate this moment with principle and discipline. Its foreign policy should not be reactive, nor should it be trapped by the false choice between solidarity with Cuba and friendship with the United States.

The correct position is more serious than that. Guyana should defend the core principles that protect small states everywhere: sovereignty, non-intervention, peaceful coexistence, and the primacy of international law.

That means opposing collective punishment. It means rejecting any drift toward military adventurism. It means cautioning against the use of legal process as a disguise for regime-change politics. And it means speaking with clarity about the human cost of policies that target entire populations in the hope of weakening a government.

At the same time, Guyana must be tactically smart. It should avoid unnecessary rhetorical posturing that can be easily framed as hostility toward the United States. A strong foreign policy is not the same as a noisy one. The better approach is to speak firmly, consistently, and in concert with CARICOM, so that the region presents a unified voice rooted in law and humanitarian concern rather than ideological shouting.

A regional precedent that cannot be ignored. The danger here is precedent. If Washington can escalate against Cuba under the banner of accountability, then the threshold for intervention across the hemisphere becomes lower. If sanctions and indictments are treated as interchangeable with diplomacy, then the region moves closer to a permanent state of coercive politics.

That should concern every Caribbean government.

CARICOM was created in part to give small states collective strength in a world dominated by larger powers. That purpose matters now more than ever. The region should not wait until the pressure broadens to another country before recognizing the implications. Once coercion is normalized against one Caribbean nation, the barrier protecting others weakens.

This is why CARICOM should insist on a framework of engagement that privileges dialogue, restraint, and multilateralism. The Caribbean should not become a stage on which external powers rehearse regime-change scripts under legal cover.

Guyana and the regional moral case
Guyana, in particular, can make a credible moral argument if it anchors its position in principle rather than ideology. It can say plainly that Cuba’s people should not be made to absorb the full weight of geopolitical confrontation. It can argue that political disagreements between states must not be resolved through starvation tactics, blockade logic, or the threat of force.

That is not anti-Americanism. It is a defense of civilized international conduct.

It is also consistent with the Caribbean’s own history. Small states know what it means to be pressured by forces beyond their control. That memory should not disappear simply because the language of pressure is now wrapped in legal formalism.

The Caribbean must speak plainly
This moment calls for Caribbean clarity. Raúl Castro’s indictment may be framed in Washington as law enforcement, but in the region it is being read as something larger: a warning that the United States is prepared to intensify its campaign against Cuba and to do so with little regard for the humanitarian consequences.

CARICOM should not be silent. Guyana should not be vague. The region should state, without hesitation, that it opposes collective punishment, external coercion, and any escalation that threatens Caribbean stability.

The Caribbean cannot allow the normalization of empire by indictment.

If the region is to remain a meaningful community of sovereign states, it must defend the principle that no small nation should be reduced to a pawn in the strategic ambitions of a great power.

If Raúl Castro can be hauled before a U.S. court, who will indict Trump for the killing and destruction his own wars have produced?”

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. — ✦—

Beyond Rhetoric: The Hour for Action Is Now

BY: Hem Kumar                                

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

Guyana is not short on warnings. It is drowning in them.
What it lacks—increasingly, alarmingly—is courage. Not the courage to speak. Speaking is easy. What is demanded now is the courage to act, to confront, to absorb political cost in service of democratic principle. That courage has gone conspicuously absent from those elected and appointed to defend this country’s constitutional framework.

The recent pronouncements by Ganesh Mahipaul and Vincent Alexander on executive overreach are not revelations. They are confirmations of what the public has already witnessed with its own eyes: constitutional bodies weakened, oversight diluted, institutional independence reduced to a procedural illusion maintained for appearances. These men are not breaking news. They are narrating a crisis they have been unable or unwilling to arrest.
Repetition is not resistance. Observation is not opposition. And Guyana has run out of time for those who believe that naming the problem discharges their responsibility to solve it.

What Is Actually Happening
Let us be direct about what is unfolding.
The Executive is not stumbling into overreach. It is executing a deliberate and patient consolidation of power—through budgetary control over independent agencies, through institutional appointments that hollow out oversight functions, through the slow subordination of bodies designed precisely to check executive authority. This is not improvisation. It is architecture.
And it is advancing without meaningful resistance.

Constitutional bodies are being reshaped not through dramatic coups but through the far more effective tools of financial dependency and strategic attrition. When agencies cannot act without executive approval of their budgets, their independence exists only on paper. When commissioners and board members understand that their institutional survival depends on accommodation rather than confrontation, the function of oversight transforms into the performance of it.
This is how democracies erode. Not in one rupture, but in a hundred quiet surrenders.

Mahipaul: Concern Without Consequence
Ganesh Mahipaul is correct to raise the alarm about budgetary interference and the creeping subordination of constitutional agencies. He is correct, and his warnings are insufficient.
Here is the question that must be asked plainly: after the press conference, after the statement, after the soundbite — what then?
If constitutional agencies are being financially strangled, the response cannot be another round of public commentary. It must be legal challenge. It must be judicial intervention. It must be sustained parliamentary pressure that forces the government to either defend its conduct in the open or retreat from it. The opposition has procedural tools available. The courts are available. International oversight bodies are available. The question is not whether mechanisms exist — they do. The question is why they are not being used with the consistency and urgency this moment demands.

An opposition that raises concerns without pursuing decisive countermeasures does not check power. It documents its own ineffectiveness.

That is not opposition. That is a record.

Alexander: The Contradiction That Cannot Be Ignored
The more troubling case is Vincent Alexander.

Alexander has spoken with apparent conviction about institutional capture, democratic erosion, and the importance of integrity within constitutional bodies. These are serious and legitimate concerns. They are also deeply complicated by his own position.

As an opposition-nominated commissioner at GECOM, Alexander’s continued tenure raises questions that deserve honest public examination. The opposition landscape that framed his original appointment has changed substantially. Leadership has shifted. Political realities have evolved. Yet he remains — occupying a seat under circumstances that invite scrutiny — while invoking the very principles of legitimacy and accountability he warns are under threat elsewhere.

One cannot credibly decry the erosion of democratic norms while simultaneously benefiting from their ambiguity. If the argument is that institutions must reflect current political realities, genuine legitimacy, and transparent accountability, then that standard applies universally — not to one’s opponents, and not selectively when convenient.

The public is not incapable of recognising contradiction. When those who warn about institutional compromise appear themselves to occupy contested positions, it does not strengthen the democratic argument. It weakens it. It hands the government precisely the deflection it needs.

If Alexander’s position on institutional integrity is sincere, then consistency demands he apply that same scrutiny to himself. Anything less transforms principle into posture.

The Deeper Crisis: Comfortable in the Grey
What these cases share is the deeper structural failure now threatening Guyana’s opposition politics: too many actors within the system have grown comfortable operating in the very grey areas they publicly condemn.

They critique executive overreach while accommodating its consequences. They warn about compromised institutions while resisting the personal cost of genuine reform. They speak the language of accountability while exempting themselves from its demands. And in doing so, they provide the government not only with cover, but with a mirror — one in which the opposition’s own contradictions make it increasingly difficult for the public to identify who, exactly, is defending democratic principle and who is merely performing it.

This is not a small problem. It is the central problem.

Because the government does not hesitate. It does not narrate its consolidation — it executes it. It organises, advances, and acts. The asymmetry between an executive that moves and an opposition that comments is not sustainable. It is a losing position, and it is being chosen daily.

What Meaningful Representation Looks Like
There is a clear example of what effective opposition strategy looks like, and it deserves to be named and amplified.

Amanza Walton-Desir moved beyond domestic rhetoric and engaged international transparency bodies and diplomatic missions directly — escalating concerns to forums where scrutiny carries institutional weight and where the government cannot simply dismiss criticism as partisan noise. That is not symbolism. That is strategy. It is the recognition that when domestic accountability mechanisms are compromised, the arena must expand.

It is not the full answer. But it is a model.

Effective opposition under conditions of institutional pressure requires action across multiple fronts simultaneously:

Legal and judicial challenges must be pursued against budgetary interference with constitutional agencies. The courts exist precisely for this. Use them, consistently and publicly, not as a last resort but as a first line of resistance.

International escalation must be sustained. Petitions to governance and electoral oversight bodies, engagement with diplomatic missions, formal submissions to regional and international democratic institutions — these create accountability in spaces the government cannot easily control.

Parliamentary pressure must be continuous and strategic, not reactive. Procedural mechanisms exist to force accountability, to demand documentation, to place the government on record. They must be deployed with discipline and persistence, not reserved for moments of political convenience.

Internal accountability must begin immediately. The opposition cannot demand transparency from the government while resisting it from within its own ranks. Every contradiction between stated principle and personal conduct is ammunition for those seeking to discredit democratic resistance.

Credibility Is Built Through Consistency
There is no shortcut here. Credibility is not constructed through statements, however well-worded. It is built through the accumulation of consistent action — through pursuing the legal challenge when it is difficult, through holding the line when accommodation would be easier, through applying standards to oneself that one demands of others.

The public is watching. It is not watching for more warnings. It has heard the warnings. It is watching for evidence that those entrusted with democratic representation understand what time it is — and are willing to act accordingly.

Guyana is no longer in a period of ordinary political contestation. These are conditions under which institutions are being tested. Constitutions that are not defended do not remain intact. Democratic frameworks that are not actively maintained do not preserve themselves. The erosion being described in press conferences is real, it is accelerating, and it will not be reversed by narrating it more eloquently.

If the opposition continues to substitute commentary for action — to observe the crisis rather than confront it — it risks completing a transformation that is already well underway: from political alternative into institutional decoration. Present. Documented. Ineffective.

The Weight of What Comes Next
History is written by those who acted when action was required. It is equally shaped by those who saw clearly, spoke often, and did nothing consequential to alter what they saw.

The warnings have been issued. The analysis is complete. The record of observation is extensive. What remains to be written is the record of response — and that record is being written now, in real time, through every decision made and avoided, every challenge pursued and deferred, every standard upheld and selectively applied.

Guyana deserves more than paper tigers — loud in warning, absent in resistance.

The question is whether those in a position to provide more will choose to do so before the institutions they are warning about no longer exist in any meaningful form to be defended.

The hour is not approaching. It is here.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. — ✦—

Guyana Now Sits at the Center of a Quiet Power Struggle

BY: Hem Kumar                               

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

The Chinese Ambassador’s recent column is not an isolated diplomatic courtesy—it is a signal.

And more importantly, it is a response. When foreign envoys begin using state-linked platforms to directly counter statements from U.S. lawmakers, it tells us something fundamental: Guyana is no longer a peripheral player. It is now a space of strategic contest.
The Ambassador’s message was polished, deliberate, and rich with carefully selected facts—billions in investment, hospitals, bridges, training programs. This is not accidental. It is narrative building. It is China making its case not just to policymakers, but to the Guyanese public: we are here, we are beneficial, and we are not what others claim.

But beneath the language of “mutual respect” and “win-win cooperation” lies a more complex reality. This is about influence—economic, political, and cultural. And influence, regardless of origin, is never neutral.

Equally important is where this message appeared. The decision to publish such a direct rebuttal in a state medium cannot be dismissed as routine. It reflects a government navigating increasingly sensitive terrain. Guyana is attempting to maintain balance while two global powers sharpen their rhetoric. That balancing act will only grow more difficult.

Yet within this tension lies an undeniable truth—Guyana is in an unusually advantageous position.
For perhaps the first time in its modern history, this small nation commands outsized global attention. Vast oil reserves, expanding infrastructure, and rapid economic transformation have propelled Guyana onto the world stage. Washington is watching. Beijing is investing.

Others are circling. This is not coincidence—it is consequence.
Guyana is now a resource-rich state with leverage.
And that leverage, if properly understood and strategically deployed, can redefine the country’s economic trajectory for generations. But leverage unused is leverage lost.
What we are witnessing is not simply external interest—it is competition. And competition, if managed intelligently, can be turned into opportunity. Better financing terms, stronger infrastructure deals, technology transfer, workforce development, and diversified partnerships are all within reach. But they do not happen automatically. They require deliberate, calculated negotiation anchored in a clear national strategy.

This is where the concern lies.
Guyana’s posture, while diplomatically cautious, appears reactive rather than assertive. External powers are actively shaping narratives and defending their interests on our soil, while our own national voice remains restrained. Silence may preserve short-term balance, but it does little to define long-term direction.

This moment demands more.

It demands that Guyanese leadership fully recognize the geopolitical space the country now occupies—not as a passive participant, but as an emerging player with bargaining power. It demands policies that treat foreign engagement not as assistance, but as negotiation. It demands transparency, institutional strength, and a clear articulation of national priorities that cannot be bent by external pressure, regardless of source.
This is not about choosing between China and the United States. That would be a fundamental miscalculation.

This is about ensuring that both—and any other interested partner—compete within terms that serve Guyana’s interests first.
If there is a “war of attrition” unfolding, it is not one of weapons, but of narratives, influence, and access. And Guyana is now firmly in its crosshairs.
But being in the crosshairs is not the same as being a victim.
Handled correctly, this moment presents a rare strategic opening. A small state, rich in resources and rising in relevance, has the opportunity to convert global attention into national advancement.

The question is no longer whether Guyana is being courted.
The question is whether it has the vision—and the resolve—to capitalize on it.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.— ✦—

From Defections to Deflection: The Opposition’s Credibility Crisis”

BY: Hem Kumar                               

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

Dr. Terrence Campbell’s recent call for a “united opposition front” would be easier to take seriously if it did not ring so hollow against the daily reality of opposition inaction and internal decay.

At a time when Guyanese are grappling with rising living costs, uneven distribution of oil wealth, and deepening concerns about governance, the opposition’s primary offering cannot be another round of speeches about unity. Unity, in this context, risks becoming a convenient slogan—one that distracts from a far more uncomfortable truth: the opposition has yet to demonstrate that it can effectively use the power it already holds.

The APNU, along with other opposition elements, occupies seats in Parliament. Those seats are not symbolic—they are tools of oversight, pressure, and accountability. Yet far too often, the opposition behaves like passive occupants, drawing salaries while failing to mount sustained, strategic challenges to the government they now accuse of overreach and inequity.

Nowhere is this failure more glaring than in Region 10. A prolonged governance vacuum persists, affecting citizens who are entitled to proper representation and administration. And yet, there has been no relentless parliamentary assault, no coordinated legal escalation, no sustained national campaign to force resolution. The issue lingers, quietly pushed aside, while the opposition pivots to lofty calls for unity.

But perhaps the most damning indictment of Dr. Campbell’s leadership—and by extension the broader opposition—lies not in what they say, but in who is leaving.

In recent times, no fewer than seven individuals who held positions at various levels of governance under the opposition have crossed over to the PPP. These are not fringe figures or casual supporters; these are individuals who sat within the machinery of opposition politics, who understood its inner workings, and who ultimately chose to walk away.

That is not a minor political inconvenience. That is a vote of no confidence.

Strong institutions do not hemorrhage leadership. Effective leaders do not preside over steady exits.

When individuals abandon their posts and align themselves with the very government the opposition claims is failing the nation, it raises serious questions about internal confidence, direction, and credibility.

Who, indeed, joins a political movement that cannot retain its own?

And more importantly—who follows a leader whose ranks are thinning from within?

Dr. Campbell’s call for a grand coalition, in this context, appears less like a strategic vision and more like an attempt to compensate for internal weakness. Before inviting others to the table, he must first explain why his own table is losing its occupants.

The invocation of historical figures such as Critchlow, Lachmansingh, Burnham, and Jagan only sharpens the contrast. These were leaders who built movements that attracted, mobilised, and retained people because they inspired confidence and delivered results. Collective action followed strength—it did not substitute for it.

Today, the pattern is the reverse. Issues are raised—whether it be the treatment of foreign workers, governance concerns, or economic disparities—but they rarely reach resolution. They are aired, repackaged, and recycled, while the public sees little evidence of tangible outcomes.

Even the call for supporters to remain calm when opposition figures engage each other betrays a deeper issue: a base that is unconvinced, fragmented, and wary. That is not a messaging problem—it is a leadership problem.

The accusations against the PPP/C—regarding state overreach, institutional pressure, and inequitable distribution of wealth—are serious and deserve scrutiny. But scrutiny requires more than rhetoric. It demands discipline, persistence, and results.
Guyanese are not waiting for another alliance announcement. They are waiting for leadership that functions.

If the opposition cannot hold its ground in Parliament, cannot resolve pressing regional issues, and cannot retain its own members, then calls for unity will continue to sound like what they increasingly resemble: a deflection from failure.

Before calling others to join, fix what is broken within.

Because unity without strength is not a strategy—it is an illusion.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. — ✦—

A plutocracy of local politicians, contractors, and businessmen

BY: Hem Kumar

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

Let’s stop pretending. What is happening in Guyana today is not development — it is domination, repackaged and rebranded by a new class of elites who have learned that power in this country is not about service but control. We have replaced foreign masters with local ones who speak our accents, wave our flags, and still treat the majority of us as pawns in their wealth building experiment.

We are living in the age of the new empire — an empire built not by British plantocracy, but by a plutocracy of local politicians, contractors, and businessmen feeding off our oil and gold economy while half the country struggles to eat. The same colonial logic that kept our ancestors in chains now keeps our communities in poverty. It is built on dependency, fear, and a carefully managed illusion that this is the best we can do.

Every gala, every private ball, every glittering “fancy people” photo splashed across social media is a taunt — a display of wealth extracted from public resources that belong to the working class, the single mothers, the vendors, the teachers, the nurses and the pensioners who keep this country running. In a resource rich nation where more than 50% of citizens live below the poverty line, poverty is not  mere mismanagement. Poverty is a direct construct of policy.

The rot runs deep. We now have a state where loyalty outweighs integrity, where accountability is mocked, and where the same names keep circulating through political appointments, business deals, and government contracts. When corruption becomes culture, injustice becomes normal. And this normal is stifling our hopes and aspirations.

Even worse is how many have been conditioned to accept silence as safety. To question power is seen as disloyalty. To demand better is framed as ungratefulness. But we cannot let fear dictate our future. The same system that keeps us poor keeps us divided — racially, politically, and psychologically — because division is the easiest way to rule without resistance.

Let’s call it what it is: psychological warfare. When a government uses propaganda, patronage, and privilege to make citizens doubt their own worth, it is not leadership. It is manipulation. It is colonial control in national colours. We are meant to stay distracted, begging while they build empires in our name.

This is not the independence our foreparents fought for. Independence is not a slogan to be repeated on national holidays — it is a daily act of reclamation. It means refusing to let politicians and profiteers turn our resources  into their private ATM. It means demanding consequences for those accused of misconduct and corruption, no matter how high their office. It means believing that Guyana belongs to us — every one of us — not just the politically connected or the socially elite.

If we continue down this path, our children will inherit an empty state wrapped in the illusion of prosperity — an empire rebuilt on our silence. But silence is what sustains oppression. So let’s break it. Let’s organize, question, and resist the normalization of poverty in a country overflowing with natural wealth.

The empire never really rode off on their horses, but returned in their chauffeur driven SUV’s. And simply  learned to dance in white suits. But the people can still reclaim their power — if we remember that freedom is not given; it is demanded.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. — ✦—

Crossfire Misses the Mark on Cost of Living Reality

BY: Hem Kumar                               

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

The Chronicle’s recent Crossfire column attempts to reassure Guyanese that the government has the cost-of-living crisis firmly in hand. It is a comforting narrative—but one that drifts too far from the daily reality confronting citizens.

Across the country, the story is not one of stability or relief. It is one of stretching paychecks, cutting back on essentials, and navigating a steady rise in the price of basic goods. For many households, the question is no longer about economic theory or global trends—it is about whether income can keep pace with survival.

The column leans heavily on government initiatives—cash grants, fuel interventions, and manifesto commitments—as evidence of a “structured and deliberate” response. But listing measures is not the same as proving effectiveness. Where is the data showing that these interventions are meaningfully reducing the burden on households? Where is the transparency on how prices are trending relative to wages?
To suggest that these efforts are sufficiently cushioning citizens is, at best, premature—and at worst, dismissive of the lived experiences of thousands of Guyanese.

Yes, global pressures are real. Supply chain disruptions and imported inflation affect small economies like ours. But invoking external forces cannot become a convenient shield against accountability. Governments are elected precisely to manage these pressures, not to explain them away.

More troubling is the column’s attempt to discredit dissent. Labelling critics as “misinformed” or driven by social media attention is a familiar tactic, but it does little to address the substance of public concern. People are not speaking out because they are confused; they are speaking out because they are feeling the pressure in real terms—at the market, at the pump, and in their monthly bills.

In any functioning democracy, opposition voices and public criticism are not irritants to be dismissed—they are signals to be examined. If anything, the persistence and volume of these concerns should prompt deeper inquiry, not defensive rhetoric.

The government’s broader development agenda—highlighting infrastructure expansion, tourism growth, and declining youth unemployment—may point to macroeconomic progress. But macroeconomic indicators do not pay grocery bills. Growth that does not translate into improved purchasing power risks becoming an abstract achievement, disconnected from everyday life.
What is notably absent from the Crossfire narrative is urgency. There is little acknowledgment that current measures may be insufficient, or that more targeted, immediate interventions are required. Price monitoring must be strengthened. Support for local food production must move from promise to measurable output. Wage growth—particularly in the public sector—must be seriously addressed.


Instead, the column asks for patience, assuring citizens that more help is on the way. But patience is not a policy. It is a request—and one that becomes harder to justify when relief remains uneven or delayed.
Guyana is not short on resources or ambition. What is needed now is sharper execution, clearer accountability, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. The cost-of-living crisis cannot be managed through optimism alone.
If the government is indeed “actively engaging” this issue, then it must also be prepared to answer hard questions about outcomes—not intentions.


Because for the average Guyanese family, the measure of success is simple: can they afford to live with dignity? Right now, too many would answer no.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.— ✦—

Sovereignty Isn’t a Suggestion: GCCI’s Misguided Appeal to Foreign Investors

BY: Hem Kumar                               

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

The Georgetown Chamber of Commerce and Industry’s recent appeal to foreign investors to include local businesses in their supply chains is as telling as it is troubling. Not because the concern is misplaced, but because the response once again reflects a pattern of reactive, almost lackadaisical advocacy at a time when Guyana can least afford it.


For years, warnings have surfaced about the marginalisation of local businesses, particularly within the oil and gas sector—the very industry driving Guyana’s economic transformation. From procurement practices dominated by established foreign networks to the persistent complaints of local contractors being sidelined or underutilised, the signs have been visible and consistent. Yet the Chamber’s voice has largely been muted, emerging only intermittently and often couched in the language of polite persuasion rather than firm demand.

This is not a moment that calls for “urging.” It calls for insistence.

Guyana is not without legal protections. The Local Content Act was crafted specifically to address these imbalances, setting clear expectations for the participation of Guyanese companies and workers in key sectors. It outlines obligations, not suggestions. And yet, the continued exclusion—whether through loopholes, weak enforcement, or quiet circumvention—suggests that the law is not being treated with the seriousness it deserves.

In the oil and gas industry alone, concerns have been raised about the structuring of contracts in ways that favor large, foreign service providers, often leaving local firms with limited access or relegating them to the lowest tiers of subcontracting. There are recurring complaints about opaque procurement processes, limited information sharing, and qualification requirements that effectively shut out Guyanese businesses before they even have a chance to compete.

Outside of oil and gas, similar patterns are emerging in construction, logistics, and hospitality—industries experiencing rapid growth due to foreign investment. The influx of external companies, while beneficial in some respects, has too often been accompanied by the importation of entire supply chains, bypassing local capacity rather than developing it.
Against this backdrop, the Chamber’s approach appears not only reactive but fundamentally misaligned with the urgency of the moment. By framing the issue as one of encouragement rather than enforcement, it risks normalising a system where compliance with Guyana’s laws is treated as optional.

This is where the Chamber must be held to a higher standard. As a leading representative of the private sector, it should not merely echo concerns after the fact. It should be proactively identifying gaps, calling out non-compliance, and pressing both government and investors to uphold the letter and spirit of the law.

That means demanding transparency in procurement—public disclosure of contracts, clear reporting on local content targets, and independent verification of compliance. It means advocating for stronger monitoring mechanisms and real penalties for companies that sidestep their obligations. It also means equipping local businesses with the support they need to compete effectively, rather than leaving them to navigate an uneven playing field.

Equally important is the principle of reciprocity. Guyanese businesses entering foreign markets would be subject to strict regulatory frameworks designed to protect domestic interests. They would not be allowed to systematically exclude local participation without consequence. Why, then, should Guyana accept anything less within its own borders?

Economic sovereignty is not an abstract concept—it is exercised through policy, enforcement, and the confidence to demand fair treatment. When local businesses are excluded from the very industries built on Guyana’s natural resources, the promise of national development begins to ring hollow.
The Chamber’s current posture, however well-meaning, does little to challenge this trajectory. It reflects a cautiousness that borders on complacency, at a time when bold, unapologetic advocacy is required.

Guyana is at a pivotal stage in its development. The structures being established today—who participates, who benefits, and under what conditions—will shape the country’s economic landscape for decades to come. This is not the time for soft appeals or deferred action.

If the Chamber is serious about protecting and advancing local enterprise, it must move beyond reactive statements and embrace a far more assertive role. It must demand enforcement, champion accountability, and ensure that Guyanese businesses are not spectators in their own economic story.

Anything less is not just inadequate—it is a disservice to the very constituency it claims to represent.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.— ✦—