In Guyana’s current political climate, a troubling trend is resurfacing, one where parties, in the name of cooperation, quietly divide the ministries and public agencies between themselves like spoils after a battle. Supporters are reassured that their side now “controls” this or that department. But is this really democracy? Or is it a betrayal of what our Constitution calls “inclusionary democracy”?
Article 13 of the Guyanese Constitution is unequivocal. It establishes that “the principal objective of the political system of the State is to establish an inclusionary democracy by providing increasing opportunities for the participation of citizens and their organisations in the management and decision-making processes of the State.” These are not idle words. They are a national promise, a blueprint for people-powered governance.
And yet, instead of expanding participation, too many of our political arrangements shrink it. Deals between party leaders often happen in closed rooms, with little to no engagement from the very citizens, trade unions, cooperatives, and civil society groups that the Constitution mandates must have a voice. This results in ministries run like private fiefdoms, filled with political loyalists rather than public servants, and policies drafted to serve political strategy instead of national interest.
This is not what inclusionary democracy looks like.
True inclusion means making space for independent trade unions, which have historically defended workers’ rights and can offer frontline insight on employment, wages, and national productivity. It means empowering cooperatives, which represent grassroots economic empowerment, particularly in rural and hinterland communities. These entities are not just “interest groups”, they are constitutional stakeholders in the democratic management of the country.
Including them is not charity; it is smart governance.
When trade unions sit at the policy table, labour laws become fairer, working conditions improve, and productivity rises. When co-ops are supported in agricultural policy or small business development, local economies strengthen and wealth is more broadly shared. And when civil society has a real seat at the table, corruption declines, oversight improves, and the public’s faith in democracy is restored.
The alternative, apportioning power based on who won how many votes in the last election, creates what we’re already seeing, fragile coalitions, rampant patronage, and public institutions more loyal to party than to people. It demotivates professionals, alienates civil servants, and breeds cynicism among voters, many of whom already feel like elections change faces but not outcomes.
Guyana is standing on the edge of an economic transformation. Oil revenues, if managed inclusively, could lift generations out of poverty. But if we approach this moment with the same exclusionary instincts that defined our past, we will squander not just money, but trust, and trust, once lost, is hard to regain.
Inclusionary democracy is not a slogan; it is a safeguard. It is the antidote to polarization, the check against corruption, and the engine of innovation in government. And it is our constitutional duty.
If the political class is serious about “power-sharing,” let it be people-centered. Let it begin with public hearings, sector councils, participatory budgeting, and advisory boards that include not just party insiders but citizens, union leaders, co-op presidents, and teachers, nurses, farmers, and youth.
Let us honour the letter and spirit of Article 13. Not because it sounds good, but because it’s the only path to a democracy that actually works for the people of Guyana.
