The art of the scapegoat

May 31, 2026 Features / Columnists, Peeping Tom

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(Kaieteur News) – Imagine poor John (not his real name). John gets a good job. Not a rich man’s job, mind you, but a decent one. The kind that allows him to finally move out of rented accommodation and build a little stability for his family.

The bank sees his appointment letter and offers him a loan. The furniture store approves a hire-purchase agreement. He buys a car because he needs transportation for work. The children are enrolled in a better school. Life begins to look promising.

John works hard. He turns up on time. He follows instructions. He does what is expected of him.

Then one day, without warning, he is told that his services are no longer required. Not because he stole money. Not because he was incompetent. Not because he violated any rule.

He simply becomes expendable. A convenient casualty. A sacrificial offering. A scapegoat.

The bank does not care that John has lost his job. The loan payments remain due. The furniture company still wants its money. The insurance premiums must still be paid. The school fees do not disappear.

But somebody somewhere decides that John must go. Why? Because politics often requires theatre. And theatre requires actors. More importantly, it requires victims.

This is the context in which one has to assess the recent mass replacement of Regional Executive Officers.

None of those replaced has been publicly accused of corruption. No public inquiry has established wrongdoing. No transparent performance review has demonstrated incompetence. No credible process has been laid before the public showing that these individuals failed in their duties.

Yet they are gone.

The official explanation may vary, but many Guyanese have become accustomed to a familiar political pattern. Whenever allegations of corruption begin attracting attention, there is often a sudden desire to demonstrate action. Someone must be seen paying a price.

And because the political heavyweights rarely seem available for sacrifice, attention shifts downwards. The small fish become easier targets than the big sharks.

This is what might be called the theory of political deflection. Under this theory, the purpose of removing junior officials is not necessarily to punish wrongdoing. Rather, it is to create the appearance that government is taking decisive action.

The public sees dismissals. The headlines report changes. The international community observes movement. A message is sent that something is being done.

Whether the action addresses the real source of concern becomes a secondary matter. The unfortunate reality is that non-political public officials often occupy the most vulnerable position in the political food chain.

They carry responsibility but possess little power. They implement decisions but rarely make them. They can be removed quickly while those at higher levels remain insulated.

And this is where many Guyanese detect an inconsistency. When last did the public witness a minister being sent home because of controversy surrounding his or her ministry?

When last did a senior member of the political directorate lose office because public confidence had been undermined? Such examples appear exceedingly rare. If at all there are such examples

Indeed, a perception has emerged that once a person reaches ministerial rank, he or she becomes practically untouchable. Controversies come. Controversies go. Questions are raised. Statements are issued. Yet the political directorate often remains remarkably intact.

Meanwhile, lower-level officials continue to face abrupt career disruptions. This is not to suggest that REOs or other public servants should enjoy immunity from accountability.

Quite the opposite. Accountability is essential. Where misconduct exists, evidence should be presented and action should follow. Where incompetence is established, consequences should result.

But fairness demands process. Fairness demands transparency. Fairness demands that people know why they are being removed. Otherwise, accountability begins to resemble something else. It begins to resemble symbolism.

The danger is that such mass dismissals create fear throughout the public service. Officials learn that competence may not guarantee security. Performance may not guarantee stability. And loyalty may not guarantee protection. They learn that in times of political difficulty, someone must always be available to absorb the shock.

Someone must become the evidence that action is being taken. Someone must become the headline. Someone must become John.

The tragedy, of course, is that the real issues often remain untouched. The spotlight shifts. The public conversation changes. The controversy moves on. But the underlying concerns continue to linger.

And while the architects of power remain comfortably in place, another collection of expendable officials quietly packs up their desks and heads home, wondering how they became the answer to questions they never created.

(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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• corruption, Peeping Tom, Regional Executive Officers, scapegoat

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