Dear Editor,
I seek to raise the issue of fear in our society, particularly political fear. This prevailing paralysis, while undeniable, is often glossed over in public political discussions. It seems as though we share a collective reluctance to confront the politics of fear, preferring instead to focus on other aspects of the country’s economic, social and political realities.
Guyanese often ask why the masses at present are so sheepish in the face of their oppression. Yet the question itself can serve as a way of distancing responsibility, placing the burdens on others rather than examining our own role in confronting the situation.
We seek comfort in the position of an impartial observer. Therein lies the problem. We have become people who want change without sacrifice, a notion inconsistent with our history. We overcame slavery, indentureship, and colonialism through resistance and struggle. Progress was achieved, but not without pain. This is not only our history but the history of humankind.
Our greater problem is that we are afraid to confront fear itself, because doing so inevitably raises the question: what is to be done? This is the elephant in the room. It is not that we have lost our collective memory of historic and more recent struggles. Rather, we have allowed those who govern to cultivate a politics of fear that has encouraged us to police ourselves. In effect, we engage in self-inflicted fear, granting our rulers far more power over us than they actually possess.
To date, no major section of society, whether political or civil, has given sustained commitment to challenging this culture of fear. To its credit, WPA is the exception.
A keen observer noted that apart from Politics101 by Dr. David Hinds, few intellectual or political resources are currently devoted to addressing this weakness within the body politic. This is not an issue to be left exclusively to the opposition leadership. It is a matter for the wider society as a whole. Politicians are often beneficiaries of fear in governance, making it unwise to depend on them exclusively for its resolution. But since they are part of the problem, they must also be part of the solution.
Trade unions played an important role in the struggle against oppression and exploitation long before the formation of political parties. Today, however, they have been weakened by repression and changing international circumstances. “Solidarity forever,” once an expression of labour’s collective strength against employers and government, has lost its effectiveness and is now a mere slogan.
I have long held the view that Guyanese society is too racially and politically polarised for sustained united action against the rulers. Polarisation deepens insecurity and mistrust. Our ethnic communities often fear each other, making society more vulnerable to manipulation and less capable of collective action.
Yet this is no excuse. Just as individuals must struggle with their weakness, nations do the same. Citizens who are conscious of our problems and are committed to changing the direction have a duty to initiate action. A failure to do so becomes part of the problem. What are the options open to society?
Fundamentally, there are two options: accept the situation or fight back. To put it in a popular saying, fight fire with fire. Given that the regime is committed to oppression and repression, patriots must be equally committed to fighting back using the tools known to mankind in these circumstances. While national united action is preferable in the war against fear, it is unlikely to develop in the short or medium term unless there is a major upsurge in the African community.
My aim is to raise the issue in a way that fosters within both the African community and the wider nation a stronger resolve to confront it. We are already conscious of the problem; what is needed is the determination to act. We should also bear in mind that the price of confronting fear now will be far less than the price of postponing the struggle until the future.
In anticipation of my critics, let me state clearly that this is not an academic analysis of fear in politics and governance. I leave that task to sociologists and political scientists. My intervention is one of advocacy and persuasion, driven by the conviction that change begins with a willingness to confront uncomfortable realities.
There is no need for me to provide an exhaustive catalogue of how fear operates in Guyana. Most citizens encounter it in everyday life. Fear manifests itself when public servants hesitate to criticise government polices out of concern for their jobs or careers, when citizens avoid attending opposition meetings because they worry about being identified or victimised, and when community leaders remain silent on matters of public concern rather than risk losing access to State resources or opportunities (like contracts). It is also evident in the reluctance of many business owners, professionals, and the general public to speak openly on political issues, even in private settings. These are symptoms of a broader political culture in which self-censorship has become normalised. The big challenge is therefore not understanding how fear works but building the confidence, solidarity, and organisation necessary to overcome it and ask the enduring question: What is to be done?
In concluding this missive, I will be satisfied if it contributes, however modestly, to a growing willingness within the nation, and especially within the African community, to address this issue both privately and publicly. If it does so, it will have served a useful purpose. The choice before us is clear: either we confront and defeat political fear, thereby restoring our freedom, or we continue to facilitate our own domination.