The business class also funds undemocratic parties

Nov 25, 2024
Features / Columnists, Peeping Tom

Kaieteur News- There’s a peculiar phenomenon in Guyana, a sort of cyclical ritual, where members of the business class—those who can afford villas overseas—transform into philanthropic gamblers. Only, they don’t gamble on poker or horse races.

No, that would be respectable by comparison. Instead, they take their hard-earned dollars and pour them into the coffers of the People’s National Congress Reform (PNCR), a party whose relationship with democracy is as tumultuous as the Young and the Restless.

You’d think by now these financiers would have some sense of buyer’s remorse. After all, supporting a party that has repeatedly demonstrated an allergy to free and fair elections isn’t exactly a noble act. But no this particular demographic of magnates, moguls, and malcontents seem to view elections as an opportunity to take out political insurance so that whichever party wins they are secure. But the best political insurance is to demand respect for the will of the people and to ensure smooth democratic transitions, not to finance cheaters.

The PNCR has built a legacy as the Michelangelo of election rigging. Their masterpiece? A sordid timeline of creative democracy-subversion, from the outright theft of elections in the 1970s and 1980s to their artful refusal to vacate power in 2020 for five long months, a move that would have earned a slow clap from even the most hardened dictators. And what about that delightful little tantrum in Parliament recently? Raucous shouting and attempting to seize the Speaker’s Mace – it was less “House of Commons” and more “House of Common Misbehavior.”

But here’s the truth: the PNCR could not have sustained its ignoble antics for decades without an endless stream of cash from their well-heeled benefactors. These business tycoons operate like democracy’s undertakers, handing over envelopes stuffed with crisp bills to both ruling and Opposition parties. It’s as if they’ve mistaken election financing for a high-stakes auction, where they secure their interests no matter who wins.

Now, one might ask why these titans of industry are so enamored with the PNCR. Is it nostalgia? Did they fall in love with the good old days of the Burnham regime, where milk disappeared, bread lines grew, and personal liberties became collector’s items? Or is it something more sinister—a desire to see policies that benefit their bottom line at the expense of the democratic fabric? Either way, their motivations are as rotten as a week-old plantain left in the sun.

But let’s not forget the human element here. Picture, if you will, a wealthy businessman handing over a hefty donation to the PNCR. He’s probably sitting in his plush office, mahogany desk polished to a shine, sipping on an overpriced scotch. “Democracy?” he chuckles to himself. “What has it ever done for me?”

Of course, the PNCR loves this arrangement. Why wouldn’t they? It’s much easier to rely on wealthy patrons than to win the hearts and minds of the average voter. Grassroots financing falls woefully short of campaign needs. The PNCR’s financiers know this, and yet they continue to fund a party that seems more interested in undermining democracy than participating in it.

And what of the rest of us, the hapless citizens caught in this unholy alliance between the PNCR and their bankrollers? We’re like extras in a tragic play, watching as the protagonists tear up the script and rewrite it to suit their whims. We see the business class cheerfully financing anti-democratic practices, all the while claiming to be defenders of democracy. Their hypocrisy is so glaring it practically requires sunglasses to observe.

Ah, the irony of the self-proclaimed saviors of democracy—the business class that loves to pat itself on the back for “saving democracy” in 2020. These very paragons of virtue, who boast of their principled stand against election fraud, are the same ones who shamelessly pour billions into the coffers of both of the country’s main political parties. Yes, they grease both sides of the democratic divide, playing puppet master in a game where they ensure they win no matter which side loses. How can they claim to save democracy when their cash-stuffed envelopes fuel the machinery of political polarization, perpetuate a system of patronage, and undermine the very principles they pretend to defend? If anything, they aren’t saving democracy—they’re selling it to the highest bidder.

How does the business class reconcile its disdain for those who peddle the narrative of an “installed government” with the inconvenient fact that it is their very own money financing the party that coined this narrative? Their wallets prop up the machinery that spreads these divisive claims.

So here’s a modest proposal: let’s make it socially unacceptable to finance democratic backsliding. Let’s demand that these moneyed elites stop enabling a party that treats constitutional norms like disposable napkins. Because, really, how long will we allow a small group of wealthy individuals to bankroll a party that repeatedly demonstrates its contempt for the will of the people? It’s high time we made it clear: financing the PNCR is bad for democracy. So, dear business class, do us all a favor. Keep your wallets in your pockets, your checks unendorsed, and your political ambitions confined to the fantasy where the PNCR wins elections fair and square. Trust me—it’ll save you embarrassment later. And who knows? You might even sleep better at night.

(The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of this newspaper.)

(The business class also funds undemocratic parties)