In mature democracies, the rule of law must always stand above personalities, politics, and personal vendettas. Yet, in Guyana, a Lamborghini has become a political symbol — not of wealth or indulgence, but of the troubling intersection between state power, personal rivalry, and selective enforcement.
The seizure of vehicles belonging to Azruddin Mohamed, the businessman and leader of We Invest in Nationhood (WIN), should have been a routine matter of law enforcement. If a vehicle is uninsured, the law is clear: it should not be on the road. But when the same government that enforces the law is also accused of denying the very conditions needed to comply with it, the issue shifts from legality to political vindictiveness and harassment.
Mohamed alleges that under instructions from the Financial Intelligence Unit (FIU), local insurance companies have refused to provide coverage for his vehicles — a ripple effect of U.S.-triggered sanctions. On Friday, police reportedly stopped his wife and driver, searched both vehicles, and impounded one for lacking insurance. Mohamed called the incident “pure victimisation and evil.” His party later described it as “a politically orchestrated campaign of harassment designed to intimidate and silence.”
This escalation followed Vice President Bharrat Jagdeo’s remarks at his Thursday press conference, where he lambasted Police Commissioner Clifton Hicken for allowing Mohamed to drive an “uninsured Lamborghini” to Parliament. Jagdeo did not stop there. He warned that if the vehicle were to injure anyone, “Hicken should face criminal charges too because he allows it.”
Within a day, police moved against Mohamed’s family vehicles. The sequence speaks for itself.
It is entirely appropriate for a government to insist that all citizens, regardless of rank or influence, obey the law. But it is deeply concerning for those in executive office to publicly target individuals, direct law enforcement in real time, and then appear vindicated when the machinery of the state responds with precision. When political speech becomes a cue for policing, justice begins to look like choreography.
The WIN Party has accused the government of “weaponising state institutions, law enforcement, and public office.” That charge should not be dismissed lightly. The constitutional expectation is that law enforcement acts independently — not at the convenience or command of any politician. A Vice President publicly threatening the Police Commissioner with criminal liability sets a dangerous precedent that erodes confidence in institutional impartiality. It is a symbol of executive arrogance.
At the same time Mohamed may not have made the wisest decision in his effort to publicise the attack on him and resist government excesses. Driving an alleged uninsured vehicle to Parliament may not have been the best choice of action.
The core issue is not a luxury car, nor a traffic violation. It is the seeming misuse of government’s office for personal and political vendetta. If the government has indeed instructed insurance providers to cut ties with Mohamed, then prosecuting him for lacking insurance is not enforcement; it is entrapment. If, however, he defied reasonable restrictions and continued to operate uninsured vehicles, the law must take its course — but without political theatre.
What the ‘Politics of the Lamborghini’ exposes is a deeper malaise —the fragility of the line between governance and persecution. When public officeholders use rhetoric to direct enforcement and enforcement appears choreographed to their will, the message to citizens is chilling — that justice is not blind, but partisan.
Democracy should treat law as a weapon or politics as a warrant. Power, even when cloaked in legality, must always be tempered by restraint, rights and the rule of law. If the government is confident in its institutions, it should let them act without public prompting.
Presently the Lamborghini may be parked, but the abuse of power is still speeding dangerously ahead.
