Dear Editor,
I met Manzoor Nadir many years ago, long before he became a central figure in the People’s Progressive Party/Civic (PPP/C) government and later Speaker of the National Assembly. It was not long after he crossed over from The United Force, a party he had once led, to join the PPP/C – a move widely seen as part of then President Bharrat Jagdeo’s strategy of drawing leaders of smaller parties into the governing tent to consolidate political control rather than to broaden genuine pluralism. On his return from New York, we spoke for the duration of the flight, and in that conversation, I encountered someone who appeared thoughtful, committed to Guyana’s development, and attentive to the language of good governance and accountability.
That is why his later political trajectory, including the effective disappearance of The United Force as a meaningful force in national life, came as a surprise not only to me but to many who had admired his early promise. His transition into the PPP/C’s orbit did not, at first, seem to align with the person I had come to know; only with time did the move take on the appearance of opportunism and accommodation to power rather than a principled repositioning in service of reform.
When he was elected unopposed as Speaker of the National Assembly on September 1, 2020, he was entrusted with a constitutional office that demands restraint, impartiality, and a conscious distancing from narrow partisan interests. In a system where the government already enjoys significant leverage over the political and media landscape, the Speaker’s chair is one of the few sites where the practice of fairness can reassure the public that Parliament is, in fact, the people’s house and not merely an extension of the executive.
It is against that standard that his recent decisions must be assessed. The move to disallow a motion tabled by A Partnership for National Unity (APNU) MP Sherod Duncan, which sought to restore full media access to parliamentary proceedings, has raised legitimate concerns. The motion, co-sponsored by MP Saiku Andrews and framed explicitly around the principle of Parliament as the “People’s House,” called for duly accredited media to independently observe, record, and report on sittings, rather than rely solely on an official feed controlled by the authorities. By blocking the motion on the grounds that its preamble allegedly contained inaccuracies and bias, the Speaker has, in effect, insulated an already restrictive regime of access from the very scrutiny that Parliament is meant to facilitate.
This decision cannot be divorced from the broader context of press freedom in Guyana. In the 2025 World Press Freedom Index, Reporters Without Borders (RSF) places Guyana at 73rd out of 180 countries, with the overall situation described as “problematic” and the political indicator faring even worse at 111th. RSF notes the “oversized influence” of government on media, including the use of state advertising, regulatory control, and the recruitment of media professionals into state roles, all of which limit independence and pluralism. In such an environment, restrictions on independent media access to Parliament are not a neutral administrative choice; they deepen an existing imbalance and weaken one of the few remaining avenues for direct public oversight.
Full media access to parliamentary proceedings offers at least three clear benefits. It allows citizens to see and hear their representatives without partisan filtering; it discourages performative outrage by exposing the totality of debates rather than selective clips; and it can contribute over time to improving Guyana’s international standing on transparency and press freedom. Instead, the current arrangement – limited physical presence, reliance on a centralised feed, and now the disallowance of a motion aimed at revisiting these rules – encourages a reality in which the public receives only curated snippets and partisan narratives, with each side presenting itself as hero and its opponents as villains.
Equally troubling are recent signals about the Speaker’s intention to rely more heavily on procedural tools to “discipline” parliamentarians. While any legislature requires rules to maintain order, the line between enforcing decorum and weaponising procedure is a thin one, particularly where one party holds a comfortable majority. When Standing Orders and procedural rulings are perceived as instruments to silence dissent or shield the government from uncomfortable scrutiny, the authority of the Speaker’s office is diminished, and with it, public confidence in Parliament as an independent branch of the state.
It is important to say this without malice. My personal acquaintance with Manzoor Nadir is rooted in a moment when he appeared to be grappling sincerely with Guyana’s challenges and speaking the language of reform. That history makes the present course all the more disappointing, but it also means that I cannot simply dismiss him as irredeemably cynical. The office he holds still offers him an opportunity to recalibrate: to widen, not narrow, media access; to welcome, not block, debates that test the robustness of parliamentary rules; and to show that the Speaker’s chair is capable of standing above the daily partisan fray.
If he chooses that path, his legacy could yet be one of institutional strengthening rather than erosion. If he does not, history is likely to remember him not for his early aspirations toward good governance, but for presiding over a period in which both parliamentary openness and press freedom slipped backwards in a country that can ill afford further democratic regression. For his sake, and for Guyana’s, one hopes he recognises that it is not too late to act differently.