Dear Editor,
The reversal was swift and unapologetic. Washington, once thumping the moral podium about Russian sanctions, now quietly lifts them—if only “temporarily”—to ease America’s inflation pain. In Berlin, Friedrich Merz calls it what it is: wrong. In Paris, Macron balks, reminding the world that the Strait of Hormuz’s paralysis cannot excuse letting Putin back into the oil parade. But in Georgetown, not a murmur; only a smile. President Irfaan Ali, deep in his cozy choreography with U.S. officials, seems not to have noticed the music has changed.
It ought to rattle him. For when America relaxes sanctions on Russian oil while preaching loyalty to Kyiv, the mask slips: principle buckles before price pressure. When fuel touches US$5 a gallon and the midterms twitch within reach, Washington’s virtues evaporate faster than gasoline on an August tarmac. Kissinger said it plain—America keeps no permanent friends, only permanent interests. And oil—black, bottomless, amoral—is the most permanent of them all.
Yet Ali carries himself as if Guyana has cracked the code to U.S. affection. A White House grin, a handshake, and a State Department communiqué seem to have lulled him into believing that the discovery of oil won more than markets—that it bought loyalty. It didn’t. It bought leverage. Guyana’s fields are not a partnership; they’re a plug in America’s energy strategy, a modest hedge against Iran’s mines and Hormuz’s blockade. When Brent soars past US$100, Washington’s calculus is simple: safeguard the supply chain, soothe the voter, and sanctify the producer—until the next storm shifts the tide.
In that math, Guyana is an expendable decimal.
Today, Ali is the smiling partner. Tomorrow, he could be the cautionary tale. Ask Iraq. Ask Venezuela. The moment Guyana ceases to serve American energy security—or, worse, cultivates regional independence beyond Washington’s script—the warmth will cool to Washington’s usual chill of polite disinterest.
And still, the Ali administration mistakes access for alliance. Exxon writes the script; Ali reads the lines. Georgetown holds press conferences; Houston holds the concessions. It is not partnership. It is patronage masked as kinship—Washington’s favorite costume. Germany can scold America because it is indispensable. Guyana cannot, because it has made itself disposable.
Merz’s words to Washington should have echoed in Guyana’s Cabinet: “We must increase the pressure on Moscow.” Translated for Georgetown, that means: We must increase the pressure on ourselves to wake up. For if Berlin and Paris can see through Washington’s oil-streaked hypocrisy, what excuse does a young petrostate have to still be starry-eyed?
Ali has mistaken a transactional embrace for a brotherhood of values. That is not leadership; it is delusion. History has no mercy for small nations that confuse attention for allegiance. America’s friendship lasts only as long as its tank runs low.
The day Washington’s interest drifts elsewhere, Guyana’s reality will bite—and it will be too late for Ali’s diplomatic rewrites to save him.
Yours truly,
Hemdutt Kumar
