Dear Editor,
If freedom of expression were defined by striking, ostentatious images then our recent Mashramani celebrations would be the lodestar of liberty. Most of the images appearing on the Stabroek News website convey a mood of unbridled euphoria. There are the happy faces, the lively participation, even the image of the odd recipient of the timeless ‘backball.’ And if I misconstrue the merriment of the revelers, their costumes—realistic, vibrant and spectacular—positively express a mood of exhilaration and optimism.
Mashramani seems to represent the jubilation of artistic expression, and encourage an overall articulation of freedom and ‘progress’ in Guyana. Outwardly, the event may even have vindicated our political elites who in their pre-Mashramani speeches trumpeted Guyana’s departure from ethnic divisions, and advancement towards economic growth. One member of this group even boldly remarked that “we now live in a country where we are truly free, we can speak our minds, we can criticize the government day in and day out fearlessly.” I suppose considering the nature of this letter there would be some credence to that statement, but alongside the glittering costumes and brisk rhythms of Mashramani, I recognize a political discourse that aims to prod us into perceiving only a utopian Guyana. It seems as if we are only expected to consume a Guyana that is flush with excitement, freedom, equality and prosperity, and to denounce one that is plagued by economic disparities, social ills
and decline.
Mashramani, I conjecture, could be in service of this discourse of promoting half-truths. The political speeches echo the nationalistic appeals of the seventies, but does such a Guyana exist any more? In an age of diminished political sovereignty and the antithetical rise of economic sovereignty thanks to global capitalism, where is Guyanese national pride? If we consider that the children of the power elite may have legal status in countries like Canada or the United States while residing in Guyana, we might have to accept that the traditional definition of ‘Guyanese’ has changed, and more uncomfortably, that perhaps Mashramani is just the obsolete worship of national belonging; that we yearn for a mythic past that can never be resuscitated or reclaimed. In other words, we are self-deluded by political rhetoric and cultural smokescreens.
Political rhetoric and unrestrained bacchanalia can seduce us into believing that we indeed inhabit a paradise. Yet, the dystopian horror surrounding us is disorienting and already claiming lives. Why, for instance, in the impassioned oratory of progress do we not hear of the nameless unemployed sugar-cane workers who daily bike to Diamond from Wales to seek menial jobs while kinship ties secure lucrative contracts and salaries for a select few? Why are these inequalities and injustices precluded from public discourse? How did they not merit even brief mention in these pre-Mashramani enunciations? Is it treasonous to confide these truths?
We have incubated our own ‘barons’ who by political patronage have become our legitimate ‘one percenters.’ Why are we not told that the children of the power elite are financially able to access undergraduate and graduate level studies in the developed world— some becoming naturalized citizens in the process—while their working class and oppressed counterparts continue to salvage theirs from the dereliction of the University of Guyana?
A brief glance at this week’s dailies reflects the horrifying realities confronting us: fathers shot at point-blank range in the heart of the city; mothers being raped and murdered, leaving orphaned and traumatized children. In both cases, working class parents, distanced from the consanguineous and networking ties that earn some over US$5000 per month, died in the daily struggle of rummaging for an average wage and livelihood in Guyana. I suppose there is comfort in reading about the President addressing escalating crime with senior police officials, but why is no one conscientious enough to pinpoint dissolute politics, unbridled cronyism and social inequalities as the cause of the economic and social putrescence? Why the tinkering with symptoms, but no confession of the inveterate, unaddressed causes?
Somehow, after the deliberate omissions and silences in these political speeches, I harbour the suspicion that Mashramani has been appropriated to desensitize us to our daily miseries and anguish. It seems to have become detached from its true cultural purpose, and is now circulated as an “opiate of the masses.” So the enchanting rhythms we gyrate to seem not to be ours, but ones orchestrated to lull us into lifelessness. We appear outwardly animated, but secretly we remain anaesthetized. Why do we continue to celebrate in half-truths imposed upon us? Have we relinquished the will to be truly free?
Yours faithfully,
Romain Khan
