It is the worst-kept secret in Guyana. Long before the first drop of oil was pumped from the Stabroek block, a different, more sinister commodity fueled our economy and kept the political machinery of the People’s Progressive Party (PPP) afloat, cocaine.
For decades, Guyana has been a thriving transshipment point, a convenient gateway for narcotics moving from South America to North America and beyond. This was not an accident of geography, but a consequence of design. The massive proceeds from this trade were not stuffed in mattresses; they were laundered through a construction boom that dotted the coast with concrete structures, artificially powering our GDP and creating a mirage of prosperity. These were not shadowy, unknown figures. They were the friends, families, and favorites of the PPP, a protected class whose wealth was built on the addiction and misery of others.
Today, with an oil boom washing the country in petrodollars, these same actors are not retiring. They are laundering their ill-gotten gains once more, this time into legitimate businesses—restaurants, hotels, and new commercial ventures, embedding themselves deeper into the fabric of our society and whitewashing their crimes with a veneer of respectability. Meanwhile, the scourge of drug trafficking continues to plague our nation, corrupting our institutions from the inside out. How many port officials, then and now, have turned a blind eye for the right price?
This brings us to a glaring and perplexing contradiction. The Trump administration has loudly declared war on drug traffickers, framing it as a battle against “narco-terrorists.” We have seen this war in action: US military strikes on suspected drug-smuggling vessels in the Caribbean, a campaign so aggressive it has drawn condemnation for its extrajudicial nature. The Trump administration’s rationale is that these groups are unlawful combatants and must be met with military force.
Yet, as US forces patrol the Caribbean, their gunsights seem to consistently bypass one of the region’s most notorious hubs: Guyana. Why?
We can only speculate, but the reasons are likely as political as they are tactical.
First, Venezuela is the designated enemy. The Trump administration’s focus is laser-like on Caracas. By labeling Venezuelan state actors as “narco-terrorists,” the US gains a powerful public relations and legal justification for its interventions. Attacking Guyanese traffickers, who have historically operated with impunity under governments the US now considers partners, complicates this simple narrative. It’s geopolitically messier.
Second, targeting Guyana’s entrenched narco-elite would mean targeting the political establishment. The US State Department must balance its drug war with its diplomatic relationships. A direct assault on the financial networks that have sustained the PPP would be an unprecedented political earthquake, destabilizing a key partner in a volatile region. It is far easier to sink a nameless “go-fast” boat in international waters than it is to dismantle the protected business empires in Georgetown.
Finally, there is the question of evidence. The US intelligence community undoubtedly possesses names, dates, and details. But to act on them openly would expose a level of institutional corruption in Guyana that would be deeply embarrassing for both nations and could threaten the stability of the current government.
This selective enforcement is a damning indictment. It suggests that for all the talk of a “war,” some traffickers are too politically connected to touch. It tells the people of Guyana that our sovereignty is secondary to US geopolitical interests, and that the lives ruined by the drug trade here are less important than those elsewhere.
The question for the Guyanese people is this; How long will we allow a culture of impunity to persist? And the question for the international community, particularly the United States, is; Is your war on drugs a sincere effort to combat a global scourge, or a politically convenient cudgel to be wielded only against designated adversaries?
Until the narco-traffickers in Guyana are named, exposed, and brought to justice, this “war” will remain a tragic and hypocritical farce, and our nation will remain in the grip of a shadow economy that threatens to corrupt our future long after the oil runs out.
