When politics is not church

Jul 18, 2025 Features / Columnists, Peeping Tom

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Kaieteur News –  In tropical Guyana, it is not uncommon for the sun to shine while rain is falling at the same time. Guyanese have a way of describing this as, “sun shining and rain falling – the devil and his wife fighting.”

It is equally not uncommon to find local politics described in language that strips it of any spiritual elevation. “Politics is not church,” one candidate recently said—an admission, perhaps, that in this arena, altar boys make poor combatants. The words rolled off her tongue not with shame or regret, but with the kind of assurance that comes from understanding the rules of the game: rules that place expediency above ethics, and calculation over conscience.

Yet, this same party to which this candidate is now attached—the People’s Progressive Party Civic (PPPC)—seeks to occupy the moral high ground in its campaign against Team Mohamed. The PPPC casts AZMO, the face of Team Mohamed, as a rival in the darkest moral hues. The General Secretary himself, the redoubtable Bharrat Jagdeo, has taken up the role of priestly accuser, speaking in tones of censure and warning. The allegations against AZMO, though yet unproven in any court of law, are used with surgical precision in a political war of attrition. Guilt, in this context, is not established through the solemnity of judicial process but through the repetition of public accusation.

But herein is the paradox. The same party that seeks to disqualify one man based on alleged moral lapses has embraced candidates whose own political histories are mired in controversy—some involving broken agreements, others surrounded by accusations that though legally unresolved, continue to emit a whiff of moral discomfort.

Let us not pretend this is new. The moral inconsistencies of Caribbean politics are part of its enduring theatre. Many moons ago, as the folklore of Georgetown would remind us, a Minister under the People’s National Congress (PNC) was accused of an indecency said to have occurred in the confines of his official office. The accusations were serious, and while no charges were laid, the response was swift—leave was enforced. A political elder, respected and principled, demanded action. There was a sense, still intact at the time, that public office demanded not only the absence of legal wrongdoing, but also the presence of unimpeachable character.

Contrast this with the more recent case of a former Minister from the PPPC government who was accused of what might be charitably termed a sordid affair. The young woman at the centre of the claim later withdrew her complaint, and legally the matter died. But in the court of public opinion, it lingered. Moral censure is often more enduring than judicial closure.

A female Minister from the same party did not shy away from trading barbs online with the former Minister. Her comments suggested that she could hardly be at peace or comfort with his presence and the possibility of his return.  Yet, return he has—on the party’s List of Candidates.

One is then tempted to ask: what becomes of moral consistency in the face of political utility? Will any among the party’s rank and file demand his removal? Will the women in its ranks speak out and speak up? Or will they too retreat behind that cynical old maxim—politics is not church?

It is not a matter of defending Team Mohamed. The allegations against AZMO are serious, and they must find their way through the proper channels of justice. But it is worth observing that his legal status is no different from that of others whose names have appeared on candidate lists, even as unresolved issues linger around them. The PPPC cannot credibly claim the moral high ground while ignoring the sins, alleged or otherwise, of its own.

In the Caribbean, our parliaments resemble Westminster, our legal systems quote from British law reports, but our politics remains deeply tribal, deeply transactional, and, above all, deeply unexamined. Morality is not a guiding principle; it is a rhetorical tool, employed selectively and discarded when inconvenient.

So, politics is not church, and perhaps never was. But there was a time—not so long ago—when at least there was some shame in saying so out loud. When men and women, even if they failed, tried to live up to the ideal that leadership demanded integrity. Today, however, the confession that politics is not church is made without remorse, as if we should all agree that ethics is a luxury no longer affordable in the pursuit of power.

This is the tragedy of our time: not that politicians fail to be saints, but that they have ceased to even pretend. The mask has fallen. The temple has become the marketplace. And we are left to wonder not whether morality has a role in politics—but whether it ever did.

(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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• Azruddin Mohamed, Church, Guyana Elections, Peeping Tom, Politics, PPPC

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