Oftentimes, when we publish our editorials, we have little idea of how they have been received by our readers, apart from the occasional letters to the editor or, increasingly, online comments, viewed, of course, only by our online community. The latter tend to vary in number and depth of response, depending on the subject treated and level of interpretation.
Generally, the more direct and topical the matter, the more pointed the comment and, more often than not, the more pronounced the tendency to see things through the lens of political divisiveness.
Sometimes, therefore, we take the indirect route and draw lessons from history or consider issues or events in distant parts which, at first blush, might appear to be less than relevant to or far removed from our daily reality.
We prefer to think, even when we perhaps err on the side of subtlety, that our readership is discerning enough to get the point, notwithstanding the efforts of those who have a particular axe to grind and who would rather distract us all from the necessity of a public discourse founded on the principles of civility and open-mindedness.
We would like to believe, moreover, that the majority of Guyanese wish fervently for an end to ‘cussing down’ and ‘cussing out’ and the propensity to resort to abuse and violent language, which has, depressingly, appeared to have become the norm here and which can so easily lead to violent action.
We have been living in fear for far too long – fear of political victimisation; fear of intimidation; fear for our personal security, in all its dimensions; fear that our children will continue to abandon the country of their birth; fear that things will get worse. We need to move away from the syndrome of fear of the other and mutual recrimination – and the latent threat of violence – towards building an inclusive society and a democratic nation based on mutual respect and the free flow of ideas.
Thus, when we wrote, last Friday, of Gavrilo Princip’s legacy of violence and bitterness in the Balkans, we were simply alluding to the fact that the divisive and polarising tendencies prevalent in our country, coupled with the growing recourse to violence to resolve even the most trifling of disputes, are cause for deep concern.
Now, against the backdrop of the belated Rodney Commission of Inquiry (COI) and all the recent talk of apologies and the need for truth and reconciliation, perhaps following the South African model, it is useful to bear a few other points in mind.
Stories will be retold and recycled; history will be revisited and, in some cases, revised and rewritten. Truths will be disputed and versions debated; the injustices suffered by one group will be held up against the grievances of the other. Each side will lay claim to the greater suffering at the hands of the other. But studies of divided societies show that discrimination and wrongdoing and, in some cases, brutality and outright evil, are not the prerogative of one side. There is usually blame and guilt enough to be shared around.
But where do we start? The sins of the past must be subjected to the cleansing power of the truth but the Rodney COI does not seem to be inspiring any confidence that it can have a cathartic effect on the nation. And there are other sins to be expiated.
We need to find a mechanism to take us along the path of truth and reconciliation. For until we can agree on one acceptable version of the truth – with or without apology – there can be no reconciliation. And there has to be some element of forgiveness, otherwise nothing will be forgotten and there will only be continuing rancour and recrimination.
Frankly, we see ourselves trapped on an unforgiving treadmill of accusation and blame, caught in a vicious cycle of distrust, hatred even, with no end in sight. We cannot go on like this; we need to choose between recrimination and reconciliation.
