The paradox of the presidency

May 09, 2025 Features / Columnists, Peeping Tom

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Peeping Tom…

Kaieteur News- There is an old and persistent illusion that we vote for ideas. We do not. We vote for people.

The Constitution of Guyana, which lodges the full executive authority of the State in one man—or woman—makes this clearer than most. This is not government by committee, nor by consensus, nor even by the party faithful. It is, by design, government by an individual. A solitary figure, enthroned not by happenstance but by the mechanics of the law.

True, you place your X next to the party of your choice on the ballot paper. But the law is that a vote for the party is a vote for its presidential candidate. But that is the illusion because it should be the other way around: a vote for a presidential candidate is a vote for the party. After all, the party becomes a footnote after the elections while the President becomes the fountainhead of all power and authority.

The paradox is that while Guyanese are summoned to the polls under the banner of political parties—A, B, or C—the actual power to govern resides not in the party but in a person. And that person is the President.

Once elected, the President may consult, or may not. He may delegate executive authority or may not. He or she can ignore the pleadings of his entire Cabinet. He alone can decide.  The machinery of the Executive, vast and humming, spins not to the rhythm of collective thought but to the will of a single hand. And that hand may be guided by wisdom or whim, by vision or vendetta.

In this, Guyana is neither peculiar nor alone. Many constitutions have their oddities and their ironies, and more than a few democracies have drifted toward personality over platform. But Guyana’s case is clearer, its constitutional architecture firmer in design. The President holds, as the law declares, the executive authority of the Republic—lock, stock, and Cabinet. Ministers serve at his pleasure, decisions bear his imprimatur, and if he so desires, the business of government may proceed with only the faintest echo of party in the air.

And yet, the electoral ritual marches on as if it were otherwise. Voters are invited to believe that they are selecting a philosophy, a party, a program, a suite of policies carefully laid out in bullet points and manifestos. They are encouraged to debate party loyalties, to wrangle over manifestos, to mark their ‘X’ for a party. But in truth, they are selecting a man or woman whose character will soon outstrip the manifesto, whose instincts will override the policy papers, and whose disposition will animate or enervate the nation’s future.

One cannot build a house on shifting sand, and one ought not build a government on a fiction. If the President is, as the Constitution insists, the fountainhead of executive authority, then the business of elections should be plainly about leadership. Not about the race, not about ideology but about the chief. Not about the party but about the person.

This is not to dismiss the importance of political parties or the values they purport to hold. But parties, in Guyana, are like the shipbuilders who design a vessel that is then handed to a single captain. Once the ship is launched, the crew may advise, but the wheel is in one man’s hands. If he steers wisely, all is well. If he veers into the rocks, the blueprints will not save the voyage.

It follows, then, that Guyanese voters would do well to fix their eyes less on the colour of the parties’ flag and more on the steadiness of the hand. What sort of person is this who seeks to govern? What do we know of his ability to lead, to run anything? Has he stood firm when tested, or has he faltered in a breeze? Does he listen? Does he learn? Can he see beyond his own image in the mirror?

These are not romantic questions; they are constitutional ones. For where a single person holds sway over the entire apparatus of government, the leadership ability, the strength of character, the courage of that person under fire becomes a matter of public importance. Leadership and character, in such a case, are not just admirable—they are essential.

This emphasis on leadership over party does not require us to dispense with parties altogether. But it does ask us to recalibrate our focus. To weigh the soul of the candidate more than the history of the party because government is essentially not party government but one-man rule –either from the throne or behind a veil.

Perhaps one day the Constitution will be amended to better reflect the realities of collective governance. But until that time—and that time is nowhere in sight—the electorate must make peace with its paradox. The party is the façade; the person is the foundation.

It may be that democracy in Guyana is not failing, but merely misunderstood. The system works—as long as voters understand what they are truly voting for. And they are not really voting for a party. They are voting for a President.

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

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