Op-ed: Guyana’s Merchant Class and Their “Oily” Aspirations

In the fast-evolving saga of Guyana’s oil boom, the local merchant class—once the country’s most powerful buyer-sellers—find themselves adrift in the rising tide of global capitalism. When oil was discovered off the coast of this small, resource-rich nation, local business elites rushed to position themselves as the prime beneficiaries of this newfound wealth. They envisioned themselves at the helm of a thriving oil economy, convinced that foreign investors would not only train them but ultimately transfer ownership of the spoils into their waiting hands. What they overlooked, however, was a fundamental truth about how global capitalism—and the investor class—actually works.

The problem with amassing power and influence in a small country is that it doesn’t necessarily prepare you for the bigger, harsher realities of the international marketplace. In Guyana, power and connections often substitute for business acumen or the intellectual curiosity required to compete beyond the national borders. This merchant class, insulated by their local advantages, failed to grasp the complexities of competing in a ruthless, globalized economy, especially one driven by profit-maximizing oil giants.

In their naiveté, Guyana’s merchant class clung to the hope that they would soon control the bulk of the nation’s newfound wealth. Many parroted a misguided belief that foreign investors would come in, train them, and then relinquish ownership of lucrative oil projects. This notion reflects a profound misunderstanding of how international investors operate. The investor class, particularly those in oil and gas, are not in the business of charity. They seek one thing: to maximize shareholder wealth. The idea that they would train locals and voluntarily surrender majority control betrays a stunning ignorance of how capitalism functions.

The local content legislation—enacted with much fanfare—was designed to guarantee a piece of the pie for Guyanese businesses. Yet, this legislation primarily enriched the well-connected merchant class while leaving women, Indigenous communities, and Afro-Guyanese entrepreneurs largely on the outside looking in. In their eagerness to cash in on the oil boom, Guyana’s elites embraced a system that perpetuated inequality and deepened societal divisions. They failed to recognize that simply legislating local participation does not guarantee sustainable, long-term prosperity for everyone.

Fast forward to today, and the cracks in the merchant class’s lofty aspirations are beginning to show. Many of those who rushed to capitalize on oil wealth are now floundering. They bought land at exorbitant prices and hastily erected towering buildings that were meant to serve as luxury homes for oil executives or prime office spaces for foreign investors. Yet, many of these buildings now sit vacant, with “for sale” signs plastered across them. The expectation that foreign investors would pay sky-high rents—higher than in cities like New York or San Francisco—for mediocre properties has backfired. This misjudgment reflects the merchant class’s chronic failure to understand the mindset of foreign investors. They thought they could play by local rules in a global game, but the investors had other plans.

Foreign investors, especially in industries as competitive as oil and gas, have one mission: to maximize returns on investment. They care little for local concerns unless those concerns directly impact their bottom line. Whether it’s about developing local infrastructure, improving education, or paying Guyanese workers a living wage, these are issues of minimal interest to foreign corporations. They will do what is necessary to secure resources and labor for the lowest possible cost while extracting maximum value for their shareholders. This is not surprising—this is capitalism. But it should be a wake-up call for Guyana’s merchant class, who once thought they could dictate terms to international investors.

Yet, the cries for fairness now coming from the merchant class are deeply ironic. This is the same group that resisted calls to raise Guyana’s minimum wage, arguing that it would negatively affect their businesses. They opposed paying their workers more than $200 USD per month—an unlivable wage by any standard—because it cut into their profits. Now, they demand fairness from foreign investors while they, too, have exploited Guyana’s workforce for years. The truth is, they were complicit in creating an economic environment where workers, particularly those from marginalized communities, have few protections and little bargaining power.

It is increasingly clear that the wrong people are leading Guyana’s economic development—both in the public and private sectors. The foreign oil companies have gained a stranglehold on the country’s resources, and they will not loosen their grip until they have extracted every ounce of return on investment. Meanwhile, the local merchant class is scrambling to hold onto a dream that was never within their grasp.

To make matters worse, Guyana’s immigration policies, which remain lax despite the influx of foreign workers, may soon allow many of these investors to claim Guyanese citizenship. As these global capitalists further entrench themselves, the local business elites will find themselves increasingly sidelined. The oil boom that was supposed to lift all boats may end up sinking the hopes of the very class that thought it could ride the wave to new heights of wealth and power.

The harsh reality is that Guyana’s economic future cannot be shaped by elites who lack the vision and integrity to develop a sustainable, inclusive economy. The current trajectory—where foreign investors dominate and the local merchant class flounders—will only deepen the country’s inequality and dependency.

The country needs leaders who understand how to leverage its vast resources for the long-term benefit of all Guyanese, not just the well-connected few. The merchant class may continue to cry for fairness, but unless they broaden their horizons and invest in real economic development—rooted in fair wages, education, and innovation—they will find themselves increasingly irrelevant in a globalized world.

The ride for the merchant class is far from over, but it is clear that it is not going in the direction they had envisioned. They may have thought they could dictate the terms of Guyana’s oil wealth, but it turns out they are merely passengers on a journey driven by global forces far beyond their control.