Dear Editor,
Political parties do not collapse from the outside alone; very often, they weaken from within. The People’s National Congress Reform (PNCR), a party founded on the firm ideological pillars of the late Linden Forbes Sampson Burnham, today faces a troubling internal drift that many supporters at home and abroad can no longer ignore.
Across the APNU benches in Parlia-ment, it has become increasingly evident that some members appear more interested in undermining the PNCR’s cohesion than in strengthening the movement they were elected to represent. While criticism and diverse perspectives are natural within any democratic institution, what we are witnessing goes beyond healthy debate—it resembles a quiet erosion of the party’s historical identity and collective discipline.
It is no secret that some of these very parliamentarians were openly opposed to Burnham’s foundational policies, the same policies that shaped the ideological and organisational backbone of the PNC. Others remained hostile to the APNU Coalition during the heated and defining 2020 elections, showing reluctance at a moment when unity was most crucial. Yet today, these individuals continue to sit comfortably on the votes, trust, and loyalty of the PNCR’s base—votes they may not have earned but now benefit from.
This contradiction has left many longstanding supporters frustrated. The PNCR did not rise to national prominence by accident; it was built on sacrifice, strategic discipline, and ideological clarity.
Burnham’s party was envisioned to champion national development, self-reliance, and unity among Guyanese. When those steering the ship today drift away from these principles—whether intentionally or through neglect—the legacy deteriorates.
Leadership must confront this reality. The slow weakening of the party’s internal culture, organisational structures, and ideological direction did not happen overnight. It is the product of a leadership environment that has, whether deliberately or passively, allowed individuals who oppose or undermine the party’s core values to ascend without accountability.
Its supporters deserve better. And Guyana’s democracy deserves a political opposition that is not consumed by fragmentation.
If the PNCR is to reclaim its role as a strong, united, and visionary political force, it must return to its roots—not to live in the past, but to draw from the strength of its foundation. Burnham’s legacy should not be treated as an old chapter; it should be a compass for modern leadership. The party must re-evaluate who truly represents its values, who is committed to its future, and who is merely occupying space on votes earned by others.
The deterioration of a great party is not inevitable. But reversing it requires courage, clarity, and a leadership willing to confront uncomfortable truths. Guyana is changing rapidly; the PNCR must decide whether it will rise to meet that moment—or allow its legacy to fade through internal sabotage and silence.