THE AUDACTICY OF THE UNACCOUNTABLE-Response to Freddie Kisson.

THE 592 GUARDIAN
Independent Accountability Journalism | Georgetown, Guyana
EDITORIAL | June, 2026

The Audacity of the Unaccountable
On Freddie Kissoon’s review of Moses Bhagwan’s memoir, and the question of who has earned the right to judge
FREDDIE KISSOON has spent decades styling himself as Guyana’s foremost public conscience — the lone scribe willing to hold power to account.

 That self-portrait demands examination. Because when a man who was targeted with a chemical substance in an attack widely attributed to operatives loyal to the People’s Progressive Party — reportedly orchestrated by Kwame McCoy — chooses,  a decade later, to align his editorial voice with that same political formation’s dismissal of Moses Bhagwan, something more than literary criticism is taking place. What we witness is capitulation dressed as authority.

Let us be plain about what Kissoon’s review of Bhagwan’s memoir, Enter The Political Kingdom, actually is: a settling of old scores wrapped in the language of intellectual disappointment. It is the work of a man who once shared Bhagwan’s terrain of opposition and who has, by degrees, vacated it — not for reasons of principle, but of proximity to power.

Kissoon reserves his most withering contempt for a man who spent his life building what Kissoon only ever wrote about

His two published works, Enter The Political Kingdom and Ancestors of the River, represent something Kissoon has never produced: a sustained, documented contribution to the archive of Guyanese national memory.

These are not columns dashed off between grievances. They are the considered testimony of a man who signed marriage certificates in 1979 while others were being killed for their politics, who built and sustained the Working People’s Alliance through state terror, and who committed decades of his life to the liberation of Guyanese from poverty, racial tribalism, and authoritarian governance.

Kissoon accuses Bhagwan of political dishonesty and an anti-Jagan obsession. These are serious charges, rendered unserious by their source. The Kissoon who now writes these words is not the Kissoon of the 1980s. This is a Kissoon who, by his own published admission, went silent in April 2020 — the precise moment when silence carried the highest political cost.               He demanded Bhagwan speak on the elections rigging of that year. But what, precisely, was Kissoon’s own record of clarity on the systematic subversion of democratic process that preceded, accompanied, and followed those elections? The record is incomplete. The silence, when it mattered, was mutual.

The substantive criticisms Kissoon raises — Bhagwan’s omissions on the WPA in government from 2015 to 2020, the absence of reckoning with what Clive Thomas, Rupert Roopnaraine, and others became — are not without merit as questions.

Any serious accountability journalism would press them. This publication has pressed them. But Kissoon does not press them as a journalist. He deploys them as instruments of personal settlement, selectively, against a man he once called his political comrade, at the close of that man’s ninety-first year.

There is a name for that practice. It is not criticism. It is score-settling on a deathbed timeline.

A man who was chemically attacked by agents of the PPP now performs their preferred verdict on Bhagwan’s legacy. The substance worked.

Kissoon writes — with a register of wounded intimacy — that Bhagwan signed his marriage certificate in 1979.

He describes Moses as a kind, gentle soul. He tells us he was deflated when the memoir was announced because he anticipated what it would contain. And then he delivers the most devastating phrase of all, one that reveals more about Kissoon than about Bhagwan “Go to hell  Moses.”
That is not the language of a man doing journalism. That is the language of a man who feels abandoned. And perhaps Bhagwan did abandon Kissoon — by refusing, in April 2020, to become a weapon in Kissoon’s preferred narrative. Perhaps that refusal was itself a kind of political judgment that Kissoon has never forgiven.

We do not adjudicate every interpretive dispute Kissoon raises about Bhagwan’s memoir. Reasonable readers will disagree on questions of omission, emphasis, and the obligations of memoir as a form. But we do adjudicate the following: no columnist who aligned himself — whether through silence, selective outrage, or direct editorial companionship — with those who brought miasmic violence against him, and who then deploys that borrowed credibility to diminish one of Guyana’s genuine nation-builders, is operating in good faith.

Moses Bhagwan’s contribution to this nation is not carried in a column. It is carried in the bodies of men and women who were organised, protected, and politically educated under conditions that would have broken Kissoon before he reached the first paragraph. Ancestors of the River is a document of historical memory. Enter The Political Kingdom is a testimony of civic courage. Together, they constitute a body of work that will outlast every column Kissoon has published, including this one.
We challenge Freddie Kissoon to produce his own comparable record of nation-building — not his columns, which are the record of his opinions, but his record of sacrifice, organisation, sustained civic construction, and documented historical contribution to the Guyanese people.

Let him lay that record beside Bhagwan’s two books, beside the WPA’s years of unarmed resistance against Burnhamite state terror, beside the quiet, dignified labour of a man who chose not to be a weapon for any faction.

When that accounting is made, the question of who has earned the authority to pronounce on Moses Bhagwan’s legacy will answer itself.

Available on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0dM2Bkcd
The 592 Guardian holds that legacy in the tradition we were founded to defend: evidence-led, prosecutorial, and unwilling to flatter power — including the power of the self-appointed.
— The Board of Editors, The 592 Guardian