By Pauline Brown-Williams
President Irfaan Ali’s government is struggling, and social media is exposing that struggle in real time.
Whenever the President or one of his ministers publishes a post, a familiar swarm quickly appears. The responses are overwhelmingly positive, often excessively so. They praise every announcement, defend every failure and attack anyone who dares to ask a difficult question.
But look beyond the comments and examine the accounts.Many have few friends, strange or unfamiliar names, limited personal activity and no visible information identifying the person behind the profile. Some cannot be opened at all because the profiles are locked or blocked. Others appear to exist primarily to praise the PPP, repeat government talking points and attack political opponents.
The timing is equally suspicious. These profiles often arrive within minutes of a government post, repeating similar phrases and responding to one another as though performing from the same script. They create the appearance of a large, enthusiastic crowd when the available evidence suggests something far more organised.
A 90-day monitoring exercise identified 136 profiles displaying patterns consistent with coordinated inauthentic behaviour. Establishing who owns or controls these accounts would require technical information from Meta. However, their political purpose is difficult to miss. President Ali, Vice President Bharrat Jagdeo and the PPP government are the principal beneficiaries.
This is what political insecurity looks like in the digital age. A confident and popular President does not need questionable profiles to manufacture applause. He does not need artificial supporters to bury complaints about blackouts, rising prices, inequality, corruption allegations and failing public services. He does not need suspicious accounts to insult citizens who ask where the oil wealth is going.
Genuine popularity is visible in the lives of citizens. It is reflected in public trust, open engagement and a government’s willingness to answer questions. It does not have to be produced by profiles with no history, no identity and no apparent purpose beyond political praise.
The Ali government appears determined to dominate the online conversation because it cannot control what ordinary Guyanese are experiencing. The government can post glossy videos, distribute press releases and deploy a swarm beneath every announcement, but it cannot force struggling families to believe that their lives are improving.
Bots do not buy groceries. They do not experience blackouts, wait years for house lots, lose crops to flooding or send children to neglected schools. They do not feel the widening distance between Guyana’s oil wealth and the daily reality of its people.
Most importantly, bots do not vote. Yet in the 2025 elections, the PPP secured enough votes to gain six additional parliamentary seats, an extraordinary outcome that continues to raise unanswered questions and has never been subjected to the transparent, independent investigation it deserves. Online, bots manufacture the appearance of popularity. When that manufactured consent is coupled with unresolved concerns about the electoral process, it can create the appearance that political support and electoral gains were genuinely earned.
The government may be able to manufacture likes, comments and applause but it cannot manufacture public trust. Every artificial voice appearing beneath a presidential post is another sign of a government increasingly unable to persuade real citizens. President Ali’s social-media pages may suggest overwhelming popularity. The suspicious profiles surrounding him tell a very different story.
The Irfaan Ali government is struggling, and its army of artificial supporters is making that struggle more obvious with every passing day.
