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By this hour next year, Guyana should be abuzz with the presence of several new political parties contesting in the national elections. Enthusiastic they would all be about their chances of electoral success. How much, if any, would announce itself when the numbers are counted. Hopefully, there is only one count this time coming. Notwithstanding their vociferous energy, oaths to country and people, what are their odds of making a mark, any kind? The best question is what the realities in front of them are, around them, above them, and all crushing them.
As fleshed out to some degree in a recent programme, the chances of electoral success for new political pups are slim to marginal to almost nonexistent. Electoral success, what is that beast? To ask and answer, only a madcap political operator would enter the local electoral fray with bright expectations. Grandiose such would be. No issues there for me, except that there are a few large holes hovering, ever ready to remind arriviste aspirants of their folly. That is, think big, and truly believe that they could live large in any Guyanese national elections.
To live large expectations in local elections is to lose big. Better be ready for a long, hard fall. Striking the ground is where the trouble, the abrupt reminders are encountered. Where are the votes? Where is the broad interest? Where is the movement? For clean governance and the banishment of cult leadership and the bandwagon of vagabonds that pillage and plunder Guyana’s riches?
Call them whatever pleases, diehards, fundamentalists, tribalists, fanatics, and here is the first truth: dem ain goin no way but weh deh always been. The cup or the palm tree. I ask to be pardoned for succumbing to the wiles of mischief by summoning scripture: the cup of these faithful voters overflows under their fig tree. A distorted message it may be, but it is real, isn’t it? Indians for the Indian party (PPP), African Guyanese for African party (PNC).
The elections just ended there and then, and the observers could pack their bags, and book their return tickets for 2030. That is, unless they choose to stay here, drive a stake in the ground, wait for a stake in the resource bonanza that’s up for grabs. And with the right recognition from the right people in the ruling seat, of course.
To be clear, I am not asserting that every Indian and all African Guyanese (sorry, Guyanese of Indian or African descent [trusting that I have that right]), What is being insisted is that the old political loyalties, regular political culture, standard political-racial-electoral voting patterns would seize the upcoming contest by the scruff of the neck and shake most of the promise of difference out of it. Whatever is left is not just out of breath and spirit. It is out of reach. The realist in me delivers this word: foregone. The optimist hangs on to another: spoiler. The analyst (there is a dirty word) digs this up: underminer. Last, the pessimist broadcast the outlier: divider.
Taken individually or compounded, next year (yeah, Trump’s shadow haunts), all electoral roads and results in Guyana leads to this terminal: shut up, select a schedule, sit down, and sleep on the national elections bus. Here is a hard number on the local electoral GPS and odometer: 10,000, maybe 15,000, or 20,000 at a stretch. If this is all that the clamoring crowd of educated, thinking, principled, concerned, angry, disillusioned, and damn-it-this will-not-be-taken-one-second in Guyana can muster, project, then it is time that I return to West Virigina or Stone Mountain, Georgia and assimilate in that rabid belt of America called Appalachia.
At the extreme, 20,000 crossover or swing votes means nothing but three seats. Once the old, familiar commitments hold, and they will, razor thin becomes razor wire. Somebody is going to get slashed, and it is not I. Lost Indian or lost African votes to the respective local behemoths, that is the question. A call must be made. Have it. It hinges on a word starting with capital c. Corruption. Corruption has savaged the spirits of those who care about such, ahm, ideals.
Corruption has besmirched the consciences of those who held onto theirs. Corruption is less focused on those who teef in their last reincarnation, and more on those who teef yesterday, will swindle more today, and will be still more roguish and bust de bank post-2025. Lovely scenario, if anybody asked me. They didn’t. Reality: corruption and all in caps has PPP written all over it. The PPP was brass-faced enough to make it official: PPPC.
With the indigenous and Venezuelan votes conveniently held in abeyance in my own ballot box, the PPP is the biggest loser in the election’s sweepstake. Corruption is manifesto, mandate. One thing is certain, other than for some stragglers the PNC will not benefit from the PPP’s loss. The new man of the moment could. But where are the votes coming from, for that spoiler, difference maker, troublemaker, interferer, and even kingmaker role all rolled into one.
I see the new General Secretary, a founder, back in the pack, and the PNC got victimised again. To what level will come to light, depending on the momentum and possibilities offered by, and envisioned in, the star of the hour. Fix the conflict soon, and support could crest. One man’s sauce is another man’s strychnine. Guyanese need something, someone, to trust, and it is not a US visa in this the Golden Age of Oil. When a leader leads from the front, multitudes follow. Bread loaves and fishcakes. Now one more question, consideration: what about political party number 4, 5, 6, and 12?
Those 10,000, 15,000 or 20,000 votes waiting to parachute into a welcoming camp could be entangled by indecision, the richness of too much choice. Noise, too. The new political groups could collide with one other, cripple the prospects of each other. There is only one winner then: the PPP. Whether the swing voting bloc stays home or step out; this is where 2025 stands. Me, too. Thoughts swirl about being the 13th party. It is my lucky number.
