Dear Editor,
It was and remains a wonderment to me how we Guyanese endured without open revolt the oppression of the later years of the Burnham regime. I can see, from my own life in Georgetown in the mid-1980s, that a selective regard for law and authority emerged to become a particularly Guyanese approach. It was possible to manage a growing private business whilst keeping to the straight and narrow path of my training, even under the many difficulties of the dictatorship. Helping to raise a lactose-intolerant infant, though, involved ingenuities that crossed into illegality. We did what we had to do with foreign exchange and smuggling.
People feel justified in flouting laws and dealing with corrupt agents of the law when their basic vital interests are disregarded by a government led by individuals openly in pursuit of power. Civil power in Guyana, far more now than in the Burnham years, seems to mean the power to become rich, and there is no concept any more of tainted riches. The example passes down the official ranks, many of whom will tell you they can’t live on their government salary. Other citizens, not in a bribable position, turn to just plain stealing. I’ve been told that an armed robber is a more honest crook than one who abuses his official position. How do I argue with that?
How can I, after all I have passed through alongside my Guyanese brothers and sisters, call now for the rule of law? We have made the law a mockery, tolerating and cooperating with misgovernance. We find clever solutions to the problems of merely existing under a system of abuse of power. We have become a people expert at coping, and law and order don’t come into it any more. After all, our basic written law, the constitution that mandates periodic elections, is flouted with the most puerile excuses. Our elected opposition cannot enforce democracy. Diplomats referring to the issue are subjected to vulgar abuse, sanctioned by the highest public authority. No one dares even express embarrassment.
Some of us are even proud to recognise ingenuity and unconventionality as Guyanese traits. How does that pride stand up when we visit the Caribbean and countries beyond? Do our leaders value any more the international image of the nation? I remember how I squirmed when asked, on a 1985 business trip to Barbados (of all places), “You live in Guyana? How come, for you seem fairly intelligent?” How many of us today will proudly claim Guyanese nationality when we’re in other countries? I’m told there are more Guyanese living overseas than in Guyana; I wonder how many of them are cringing when they hear the news from home. Few are expressing opinions, as far as I can read.
A very large proportion of Guyanese residents, we are told, are hoping to join that diaspora. Our desperation for emigration, legal or not, is legendary. Can our chances of a visa, or our subsequent prospects overseas, be affected by what is happening these days? I’ve lately heard this discussed in a party political context. Those who emigrate, it may be presumed, would not have voted to return the government whose actions made them leave their homeland. Those about to apply would equally not vote to return a government whose practices might prejudice consulates against Guyanese. Looking at population trends in regions traditionally pivotal to elections, is the drive to emigration a factor in political campaigning?
It’s difficult to predict how seriously the political parties will take this argument. After all, the results of the last elections don’t seem to have made much difference to the way the country is being run. Or to the way the citizens, including the opposition, keep going along with the Guyanese style of governance.
Yours faithfully,
Gordon Forte