It’s a bitter pill to swallow. On social media and in our everyday lives, we smile, joke, and defend people who, deep down, we know are fully aware of the People’s Progressive Party (PPP)’s corrupt agenda. We interact with individuals who understand the evil behind the PPP’s treatment of Afro-Guyanese—how our people are systematically subjugated, oppressed, and marginalized. Yet, despite this painful knowledge, we still call these people friends, attend their social events, and even go so far as to defend them in public. Why? What psychological force compels us to befriend those who are complicit in our own dehumanization?
This paradox—befriending those who stand with our oppressors—runs deep in the human psyche. It reveals not just a social dilemma, but a profound psychological struggle rooted in fear, survival, and the desire for acceptance.
One of the most powerful forces driving this behavior is the fear of social isolation. In a small country like Guyana, where communities are tightly knit, distancing ourselves from individuals who hold power or influence can feel like social exile. Many of us are acutely aware that severing ties with these people might mean losing access to networks, opportunities, and even social standing. This fear of being cut off from the circles of influence compels us to maintain friendships that, in reality, are emotionally toxic. We smile, not because we don’t see their complicity, but because we fear the consequences of standing alone.
This psychological need for inclusion is not unique to Afro-Guyanese or any other group. Social belonging is a fundamental human need, and in oppressive systems, those in power weaponize that need, creating a dynamic where marginalized people feel pressured to engage in relationships that are not in their best interest. By befriending those who despise us or at least align themselves with our oppressors, we subconsciously hope to shield ourselves from further marginalization.
Another key factor at play is cognitive dissonance—the discomfort we feel when we hold two conflicting beliefs at the same time. In this case, we know that these individuals are enabling a system that is detrimental to us, but we also know that we interact with them on a regular basis. To resolve this conflict, many of us choose to downplay or dismiss the part of our brain that recognizes their betrayal. We rationalize the relationship, telling ourselves that “it’s just politics” or “they’re not that bad.” By doing this, we avoid confronting the harsher reality: that we are extending friendship to those who, whether through ignorance or intention, support our subjugation.
This mental balancing act allows us to maintain our social ties without having to face the full weight of their complicity in a system that oppresses us. It’s easier, in the short term, to smile and laugh at a gathering than to acknowledge that the person across from us may be benefiting from our oppression.
For many Afro-Guyanese, befriending individuals who support or tolerate the PPP’s unjust treatment of our people comes down to survival. The psychological scars of colonialism and slavery run deep, and historically, marginalized communities have often had to navigate complex relationships with power to survive. Over time, this has fostered a mentality where proximity to power—even when that power despises you—can feel like a form of protection.
In Guyana’s current political climate, where the PPP exerts significant control over economic resources and opportunities, there is a very real fear that taking a principled stand against their enablers could result in personal loss. Jobs, contracts, and even social standing can be taken away from those who speak out too loudly. As a result, many people make the calculated decision to play along, to maintain friendships with individuals who, on a fundamental level, do not respect their humanity. It’s not that they don’t see the injustice—it’s that they feel they can’t afford to confront it head-on.
There’s another, more hopeful, psychological element at play, the desire for reconciliation. Many Afro-Guyanese hold onto the belief that through dialogue, friendship, and interaction, they can eventually win over those who support the PPP or at least soften their stance. This hope for reconciliation is not inherently misguided—indeed, it reflects a deep belief in the possibility of unity and understanding across divides. But the danger here lies in the assumption that maintaining relationships with those who despise or marginalize us will lead to real change. Too often, these “friendships” result in nothing more than complacency, with the marginalized person giving far more emotionally than they ever receive in terms of solidarity or respect.
Ultimately, the psychology behind befriending those who despise us comes down to fear—fear of isolation, fear of consequences, and fear of loss. But as a community, we must ask ourselves, is the price of these relationships worth the toll they take on our dignity? Is the convenience of maintaining these social ties worth the perpetuation of a system that oppresses us?
Afro-Guyanese are at a crossroads. We can continue to play the role of the “good friend” to those who support our oppression, or we can stand firm in our principles, even if it means fewer invitations to parties or gatherings. True progress will only come when we refuse to accept the crumbs of friendship from those who would turn a blind eye to our suffering.
