By Ron Cheong

News Americas, TORONTO, Canada, Weds. June 17, 2026: Guyana has always been a multiethnic society. Long before multiculturalism became fashionable elsewhere, Guyanese lived in a country proudly known as the Land of Six Peoples.

Diversity is woven into the nation’s history, culture, and even its national anthem. Yet, for generations, discussions about Guyanese politics have often been filtered through a single lens: ethnicity. That focus is understandable. Guyana’s ethnic communities were shaped by slavery, indentureship, migration, colonialism, economic competition, and decades of political struggle. Ethnic identity remains deeply connected to family history, cultural traditions, religious institutions, and collective memory.

The question, therefore, is not whether ethnicity still matters. It does. But a broader inquiry must also consider whether other forces are becoming increasingly important alongside ethnicity:

The youthfulness of the country.

The growth of an increasingly mixed ethnic population.

Guyana’s unprecedented Economic Transformation.

And whether these developments are beginning to influence political behavior and voting patterns.

The Youthfulness Of The Country

Let’s begin with the country’s youthfulness. Guyana is one of the youngest societies in the hemisphere.

Its median age is approximately 26 to 27 years, compared with about 30 to 31 in Suriname, 36 to 37 in Trinidad and Tobago, and more than 41 in Canada. Nearly half of the population is under the age of twenty-five.

A large portion of the Guyanese electorate is therefore coming to the polls in circumstances very different from those experienced by their parents and grandparents. They have been shaped by migration, urbanization, higher levels of education, social media, global culture, and increasingly diverse social networks. Many have family members spread across multiple countries. They consume information from around the world and interact daily with people whose experiences differ significantly from those of earlier generations.

An Increasingly Mixed Population

Another important factor is that the country’s demographics are also evolving. The mixed-race population has become Guyana’s third-largest ethnic category. At the same time, the proportional share of the two largest ethnic groups declined.

Interethnic friendships are commonplace. Intermarriage appears more common than in previous generations. Schools, workplaces, and social networks are often more integrated than those experienced by parents and grandparents.

None of this suggests that ethnic identity is disappearing. It may, however, indicate that ethnic boundaries are becoming more permeable and that increasing numbers of Guyanese are navigating multiple identities simultaneously.

An Unprecedented Economic Transformation

At the same time, Guyana is undergoing one of the most dramatic economic transformations in the world. Oil wealth, rapid development, and expanding global connections are creating new opportunities, expectations, and pressures.

This transformation may also be reshaping the political landscape. For much of Guyana’s modern history, politics operated within conditions of scarcity. An unspoken question often hovered over public life: Who controls limited resources?

Oil wealth may gradually alter that equation. As Guyana becomes wealthier, another question may become increasingly important: Who benefits from the country’s prosperity?

Questions of opportunity, inequality, redistribution, employment, housing, education, and public services may become more politically significant. Historically, political competition often revolved around the relationship between ethnic groups and the state. In the future, debates may increasingly focus on the relationship between citizens and wealth itself.

If that occurs, class interests may well begin competing more directly with ethnic loyalties as drivers of political behavior. Ethnicity would remain important. It simply would no longer be the only story.

Why These Changes Matter Politically

The significance of these developments lies not only in how people see themselves, but potentially in how they vote. For decades, Guyanese political analysis rested on several assumptions:

Afro-Guyanese dissatisfaction with the PNC would not necessarily translate into support for the PPP.

Indo-Guyanese dissatisfaction with the PPP would not necessarily translate into support for the PNC.

Political loyalties were assumed to remain relatively stable because ethnicity exerted such a powerful influence. The last election, however, raised questions about whether the picture may be becoming more complicated.

The emergence of a third-party alternative that attracted significant support from voters traditionally associated with one of the major political camps challenged assumptions that political loyalties were as fixed as many observers believed.

The old political map and the emerging social map may no longer be identical. 

But caution is warranted.  The result of a single election cycle, however dramatic, is not definitive. Several factors may have contributed to that outcome: dissatisfaction with established political leadership, the appearance of an outsider candidate, anti-establishment sentiment, promises of economic opportunity and redistribution, and the unique circumstances of a rapidly expanding oil economy.

The significance of the election, therefore, lies less in what it proved than in the questions it raised. Were voters responding primarily to personalities and circumstances? Or were they revealing a willingness to place greater weight on factors beyond ethnicity than previous generations?

The available evidence does not yet provide a definitive answer. The next election may tell us much more.

Identity And Politics Are Not The Same Thing

One of the most important distinctions in this discussion is the difference between ethnic identity and ethnic politics. The first concerns how people see themselves. The second concerns how they vote, organize, and pursue political power. The two are related, but they are not identical.

A citizen may feel a strong attachment to his or her ethnic heritage while making political decisions based partly on economic opportunity, education, public services, corruption, security, leadership, or governance.

Ethnic identity can remain strong even as ethnic politics becomes somewhat less dominant. That possibility is often overlooked.

Moreover, though not immediately thought of in that way even by the individual, human beings rarely define themselves through a single identity. People belong simultaneously to families, religions, communities, professions, generations, regions, nations, and ethnic groups.

Identity is layered, situational, and often subconscious.  Using a Guyanese-Canadian Diaspora example:

The same individual may think of himself primarily as Guyanese while supporting the West Indies cricket team, Canadian during a Canadian election, Indo-Guyanese or Afro-Guyanese at a cultural event, and Christian, Hindu, or Muslim in a religious setting.

Evolution Of The Land Of Six Peoples?

Perhaps the most accurate conclusion is also the most cautious. There is little evidence that ethnicity is disappearing from Guyanese life. There is equally little reason to believe that Guyana can still be understood entirely through the ethnic frameworks that dominated much of the twentieth century.

The old political map and the emerging social map may no longer be identical.

Ethnicity remains important. But so do class, generation, migration, religion, education, geography, economic opportunity, and the shared experience of living in a rapidly changing country.

A broader Guyanese identity may be emerging alongside the ethnic identities that have long shaped the nation. If so, this would not represent a rejection of the Land of Six Peoples. It would represent its evolution. The older identities would remain, but they would increasingly exist within a larger sense of shared belonging.

Whether that emerging identity is beginning to influence political behavior remains uncertain. The last election raised the question. The next election may provide a clearer answer. And that may prove to be one of the most important stories in Guyana’s future.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Ron Cheong is a frequent political commentator and columnist whose recent work focuses on international relations, economic resilience, and Caribbean-American affairs. He is a community activist and dedicated volunteer with extensive international banking experience. Now residing in Toronto, Canada, he is a fellow of the Institute of Canadian Bankers and holds a Bachelor of Science degree from the University of Toronto.

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The Archbishop And The Chambermaid: Cuba and The Caribbean’s Impossible Choice

By M. Shabeer Zafar

News Americas, TORONTO, Canada, Thurs. June 11, 2026: Guyana possesses oil wealth that most countries would envy. Corruption index score: 41 out of 100; 135th globally in economic freedom; net migration rate is minus 8 per thousand annually – people are physically choosing to leave rather than endure a system that extracts national wealth and concentrates it among the politically connected. In Regions 1, 6, 7, and 10, communities wait for roads, schools, water, ambulances, and electricity that Georgetown takes for granted. Children in Region 7 stop schooling after primary level because government decisions about who matters have made secondary education structurally inaccessible.

This is policy. Single-party dominance without genuine coalition accountability in a nation whose Constitution demands something categorically better. Region 10, home to 65,000 Guyanese, still has no Regional Chair. That is deliberate denial of representation. When a regime controlling oil wealth blocks regions from meaningful participation, constitutional rights exist on paper alone and democracy begins its quiet death.

PNC

The People’s National Congress (PNC), which led Guyana for many decades, practiced this identical methodology, packing courts, police, and institutions along ethnic and class lines. The faces have changed. The pattern hasn’t. A constitutional principle that the current Parliament has placed under acute stress and that every Guyanese citizen must understand with clarity: the Speaker of the National Assembly isn’t a government appointee. The Speaker is the servant of the entire Parliament and the servant of the entire electorate.

The exclusion of Amanza Walton-Desir, MP, from parliamentary committee service is a constitutional violation. Walton-Desir represents the Forward Guyana Movement, the 3rd largest opposition party by parliamentary seat count, following the 2025 election. She holds evident professional qualifications. She holds a constitutional entitlement, identical to every other elected MP, to meaningful parliamentary participation, including committee service. Her exclusion on the basis that her party is new, small, or inconvenient to the administration’s parliamentary management strategy is constitutionally indefensible on every available ground.

The logic is elementary: Parliament exists to represent the electorate. Every citizen who voted for FGM is represented by Walton-Desir. Excluding her from committee service does not merely sideline one MP – it disenfranchises every Guyanese who placed their trust in that movement and every citizen whose democratic interest her committee participation would have served. Partisanship has no constitutional home in the Speaker’s chair. None. The moment a Speaker accommodates MPs whose cooperative disposition serves the administration while blocking MPs whose independence challenges it, the Speaker has ceased to be an officer of Parliament and become an instrument of executive control. That transformation is precisely what the 2026 comparative study documented in Tunisia, Turkey, and Venezuela as the procedural face of soft authoritarianism.

Mr. Norton, PNC’s leader, would serve the Opposition’s cause considerably better by directing his political science training toward building the coalition that displaces this administration rather than targeting WIN’s leader, Azruddin Mohamed. His target is misplaced.

Five minutes examining the current administration’s regional record reveals a government that has progressively lost clarity about who Guyana’s genuine allies are. The Essequibo question has been managed through the International Court of Justice’s jurisdiction and diplomatic passivity, without building the bilateral treaty architecture and American partnership that would make any eventual judgment enforceable. Regional policy increasingly reflects patronage network priorities over sovereign national interests.

WIN

Mohamed’s conduct stands in categorical contrast. In August 2025, with no executive power, he formed his Political Movement – WE INVEST IN NATIONHOOD, (WIN). He deliberately navigated obstructed hinterland routes to reach communities that the established parties had abandoned. He donates part of his parliamentary salary to those in need. He works 16-hour days. He defers publicly to his colleagues rather than seeking personal prominence. He has named specific governmental misconduct with documented evidence on at least 5 occasions in May and June 2026, identifying ministers whose corrupt lifestyles he has cataloged as Leader Of The Opposition while their fellow Guyanese stand in bread lines.

In law, behavior consistent with a declared principle across 13 months of unscripted public life meets the standard of proof beyond a reasonable doubt. Mohamed’s record runs from 26th May, 2025, to present. It can’t be manufactured for “silly season” (election time). It already exists and is the most reliable predictor of what his presidency would produce. One year old. Documented. Constitutionally coherent. Guyana’s future is on the ballot in 2030.

EDITOR’S NOTE: M. Shabeer Zafar is a Guyana-born, Canadian-based Barrister-at-Law.

By Staff Reporter | NewsAmericasNow.com

NEWS AMERICAS, NY, NY, Mon. 8, 2026: Since September 2025, the US military boat strikes in the Caribbean Sea and eastern Pacific Ocean has killed at least 207 people – in what legal experts are describing as an unprecedented and potentially illegal campaign of extrajudicial killings in Caribbean and Latin American waters.

The data, tracked by The New York Times based on postings by President Trump, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, and US Southern Command, reveals a dramatic and largely unreported shift in how the United States is conducting its war on drugs – one that has turned Caribbean waters into an active military kill zone.

At least 17 of the 63 strikes have taken place directly in the Caribbean Sea – killing at least 66 people in the shared waters of the Caribbean region since September 2025.

From Law Enforcement To Kill Zone

The scale and nature of this campaign represents a fundamental departure from decades of established US practice in the Caribbean. Historically, the US Coast Guard – with Navy assistance – treated maritime drug smuggling in the Caribbean as a law enforcement problem. Boats were intercepted. Suspects were arrested. Cases were prosecuted. Due process, however imperfect, existed.

That is no longer the case.

Under the Trump administration, the US military has been authorized to strike and destroy boats suspected of carrying drugs – killing everyone on board – without arrest, without trial, and without any independent verification that the vessels were actually carrying illegal cargo.

The White House has defended the strikes as lawful, telling Congress that President Trump has formally determined that the United States is in an armed conflict with drug cartels and that crews of suspected drug-running boats are therefore “combatants” subject to lethal force under the laws of war.

The Legal Controversy

A broad range of legal specialists on the use of lethal force have publicly stated that the strikes constitute illegal extrajudicial killings – because international law does not permit the deliberate targeting of civilians, even suspected criminals, who do not pose an imminent threat of violence.

As The New York Times reported, the administration’s legal theory rests partly on the argument that tens of thousands of Americans die annually from drug overdoses. However, as the Times noted, the surge in overdose deaths over the past decade has been driven primarily by fentanyl produced in Mexican labs – not cocaine transported on boats from South America through Caribbean waters.

The boats being struck are carrying cocaine. The deaths being cited to justify the strikes are caused by fentanyl. Critics say the legal justification does not hold.

What’s Happening In Caribbean Waters

The Caribbean strikes began on September 2, 2025 – when 11 people were killed in a single Caribbean Sea strike – and have continued sporadically through 2026. Among the deadliest Caribbean strikes documented:

September 2, 2025 – 11 killed in the Caribbean

October 14, 2025 – 6 killed in the Caribbean

October 23, 2025 – 6 killed in the Caribbean

November 12, 2025 – 4 killed in the Caribbean

March 25, 2026 – 4 killed in the Caribbean

May 4, 2026 – 2 killed in the Caribbean

The identities of those killed in Caribbean waters have not been publicly disclosed. Their nationalities are unknown. Whether any were Caribbean nationals – fishermen, migrants, or others – has not been established.

The Questions The Caribbean Must Ask

For Caribbean governments and communities, the US military’s sustained campaign of lethal strikes in Caribbean waters raises questions that have received almost no public attention in the region:

Who are the people being killed? Caribbean waters are not only used by drug traffickers. They are used by fishermen, by migrants, and by small boat operators of all kinds. The US military’s classification system – based largely on aerial surveillance – has never been independently verified.

Were any Caribbean nationals among the dead? The 207 people killed in these strikes have not been identified. Their nationalities, backgrounds, and circumstances remain unknown.

Did Caribbean governments consent? The strikes in Caribbean waters represent military action in the shared maritime space of the region. CARICOM member states have not publicly addressed whether they were consulted or whether they consent to US military operations in Caribbean waters.

What are the legal implications? If the strikes are indeed illegal extrajudicial killings – as a broad range of legal experts contend – what accountability mechanisms exist for actions taken in Caribbean waters?

The Broader Context

The boat strike campaign is unfolding alongside the USS Nimitz’s recent docking in Kingston, Jamaica, the escalating US pressure campaign against Cuba, and Secretary of State Rubio’s declaration that the United States has taken back control of the Western Hemisphere.

Together, these developments paint a picture of an increasingly militarized US presence in Caribbean waters – one that is operating with minimal transparency, limited legal accountability, and virtually no public discussion within the Caribbean region itself. 207 people are dead. Dozens of them died in Caribbean waters. The Caribbean deserves to know.

“With (over) 200 killings, these extrajudicial killings are becoming normalized,” said Amnesty International USA’s National Director for Government Relations, Amanda Klasing. “Not only are these killings illegal, they are immoral. People of good conscience cannot allow this to continue, yet Congress has so far failed to halt, or even slow down, this lethal and unlawful campaign. We are witnessing the height of lawlessness — a government taking military action to kill people who it unilaterally deems ‘criminals’ or ‘terrorists’ and then bragging about it on social media and stonewalling members of Congress demanding explanations. Regardless of whether the victims committed crimes or not, killing them is completely illegal under both U.S. and international law. Alleged criminal suspects should be dealt with by law enforcement who are bound by international human rights law, which prohibits using lethal force unless absolutely necessary based on an imminent threat to life.”

“Beyond U.S. authorities, we need to see leadership from other governments in the region, as well as the Organization of American States,” added Ana Piquer, Americas Director at Amnesty International. “The international community must speak out firmly against these murders, which constitute a serious threat to human rights and respect for international law. Governments must immediately suspend intelligence sharing that may contribute to these operations. They further should suspend export licenses to any defense material that could be used to perpetuate these murders.”

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By Ron Cheong

News Americas, TORONTO, Canada, Sat. June 6, 2026:  It always happens right around February. You are standing outside in Toronto, London, or New York, shoveling six inches of grey, slushy snow off your driveway while the wind chill threatens to freeze your ears solid. Your back hurts, your boots are wet, and a sudden, desperate thought flashes through your mind: Why am I doing this? How about moving “back home?”

You go inside, log onto the internet, and start browsing real estate listings back home. You see photos of lush green land and wrap-around verandas. You close your eyes and make a solemn vow: “That is it. We are packing up. We are buying a piece of land, building a house, and moving back for good.”

It is the ultimate diaspora dream. We imagine ourselves living a stress-free, Facebook-ready lifestyle. In this dream, we wake up early to the sound of tropical birds chirping, stroll into the backyard to pick the sweetest mangoes from a tree heavy with fruit, and spend our afternoons sipping cold coconut water on the porch while a cool breeze blows away all our foreign anxieties.

It is a beautiful illusion. It is also a complete fantasy.

The reality check begins the exact second you step off the plane. You walk out of the air-conditioned cabin and are immediately hit by a wall of humidity so thick it feels like a punch in the chest. Within three minutes, your neatly pressed shirt is glued to your back.

And then, there are the local residents you forgot to account for: the wildlife.

For reasons unknown to science, local mosquitoes can smell foreign blood from a mile away. To them, a returning diaspora member isn’t a long-lost cousin – you are a walking, talking, five-star buffet. But it’s not just the mosquitoes. You can uncap a two-litre bottle of Coke, walk into the living room for a second, and return to the kitchen to find a lizard has beaten you to it and is happily swimming laps in the last remains of your cola (true story).

Even your daily routine becomes an exercise in survival. You try to dress down, put on your slippers, and blend in like the real local folk that you are. It doesn’t work. The taxi drivers can spot your “foreign walk” from a mile away and will instantly hail you out, doubling the fare before you even open your mouth.

If you try to make a phone call to get something done and launch straight into business, you will be met with icy silence. You forgot the cardinal rule: you must say “Good morning” or “Good afternoon” first, or the conversation is over before it begins.

As for bureaucracy? Forget about it. We get so used to the hyper-speed, automated efficiency of the global North that we forget the golden rule of life back home: things take time. If you need to visit a government office or a bank, prepare for a grueling five-hour lineup. You will need three different forms of identification, a mountain of patience, and a stack of documents requiring numerous official stamps. Everything operates on the relaxed timeline of “just now.”

Even a simple commute can scare you out of your wits. You hop into a minibus, only to find yourself trapped in a speeding rocket ship with music blaring so loud your teeth rattle, praying you make it to your destination in one piece. You look out the window and see a donkey cart or a horse-drawn cart casually moving along the side of the road – a stark contrast to the chaos.

And when the weather turns, it really turns. The heavy tropical rain falls so hard that it feels like “one drop can fill a bucket.” The downpour brings an immediate flood, forcing you to run out and buy heavy-duty mud boots just to cross the street.

Yet, despite the chaos, the illusion never truly dies because the beautiful moments are unmatched.

When that heavy rain hits, you get to lie in bed and listen to the lovely, calming sound of rain dancing on a zinc sheet roof. It is a sound that instantly floods your mind with sweet childhood memories, a comfort you can never buy abroad.

The dream of coconut water actually comes true. You end up drinking gallons of it, so much so that you and the coconut vendor become personal friends. He starts “watching your back” and saving the best ones just for you.

You get to experience real nature. You travel by boat on massive, powerful rivers that make the little creeks they call “rivers” in North America look like puddles. You get to satisfy your deep cravings, eating proper pepper pot, and feeling absolute delight when you see your favorite spot, Shanta’s, is still open and still making the best dhal Puri after all these years.

The cold, distant culture of the North melts away. You find yourself standing in the supermarket line, “gaffing” with the cashier like she is an old childhood friend you haven’t seen in years.

Best of all, you get to escape the madness by sitting on the seawall. You gaze out into the endless ocean, enjoying the cool Atlantic breeze, taking in how things have changed. Today, the seawall is alive with vendors selling ice-cold drinks and smoky, perfect BBQ chicken.

We might complain bitterly about the heat, the lines, and the bugs when we are home. We might fly right back to our heated apartments when the vacation is over. But the very next time the winter slush hits our boots, we will open up those real estate websites all over again. After all, a little bit of flooding and a swimming lizard are a small price to pay for a culture that wraps you up like family.

Dedicated to the resilient diaspora community – the barrel packers, the winter-survivors, and the dreamers. May your suitcases always clear customs safely, your accent never get too foreign, and your longing for home always keep you warm.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Ron Cheong is a frequent political commentator and columnist whose recent work focuses on international relations, economic resilience, and Caribbean-American affairs. He is a community activist and dedicated volunteer with extensive international banking experience. Now residing in Toronto, Canada, he is a fellow of the Institute of Canadian Bankers and holds a Bachelor of Science degree from the University of Toronto.

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By Staff Reporter | NewsAmericasNow.com

News Americas, WASHINGTON, D.C., Thurs. June 3, 2026: The timing is no coincidence. Days after Trinidad and Tobago broke ranks with CARICOM – reserving its position from the regional body’s statement of concern over escalating US measures against Cuba and aligning itself with Washington through the US-led Shield of the Americas security pact – President Donald Trump has nominated a Trinidad-born former Florida Lieutenant Governor as the next United States Ambassador to Port of Spain.

The nomination of Jennifer Johnson-Carroll, 66, sends a unmistakable diplomatic signal across the Caribbean: countries that align with Washington get rewarded. Countries that don’t – get Kari Lake.

The Reward

Carroll’s biography is extraordinary by any measure. Born in Port of Spain, Trinidad and Tobago, she immigrated to the United States at the age of eight, enlisted in the US Navy in 1979, and served 20 years in uniform – retiring as a Lieutenant Commander in 1999. She went on to become the 18th Lieutenant Governor of Florida – serving from January 2011 to March 2013 under Governor Rick Scott – becoming in the process the first Black person, the first woman, and the first Trinidadian American ever elected to statewide office in Florida, and the first Black Republican elected to Florida statewide office since Reconstruction.

A long-time Trump ally who served as a surrogate during his 2016 presidential campaign and later as a Commissioner on the American Battle Monuments Commission during his first term, Carroll now stands to return to the country of her birth – not as an immigrant child leaving for American shores, but as the United States’ most senior diplomatic representative to the government of Trinidad and Tobago.

The Context: Trinidad’s Strategic Choice

Carroll’s nomination arrives at a moment of significant geopolitical realignment across the Caribbean – one in which Trinidad and Tobago has made a clear and consequential choice about which side of an intensifying US-Cuba confrontation it stands on. When CARICOM foreign affairs ministers expressed their profound concern over escalating US economic and commercial measures against Cuba, Trinidad and Tobago – alongside Guyana – reserved its position. The two nations, both significant energy producers with deep commercial ties to the United States, declined to join the regional consensus in support of Cuba.

Both countries are only 2 of three Caribbean official members of the US-led Shield of the Americas alliance – a security pact signed by 17 Western Hemisphere countries in March 2026 focusing on countering transnational organized crime, drug trafficking, and illegal migration through enhanced intelligence sharing and military cooperation.

The nomination of a Caribbean-born, historically significant diplomat to serve as US Ambassador to Trinidad and Tobago — at precisely this moment of regional fracture – is the kind of diplomatic gesture that Washington makes deliberately and the region understands immediately.

The Contrast With Jamaica

The difference between Washington’s approach to Trinidad and Tobago and its approach to Jamaica could not be more pointed.

For Trinidad – which sided with Washington on Cuba and signed the Shield of Americas pact – Trump nominated a Trinidad-born woman with a historic record of public service, military service, and political achievement who literally grew up in the country she will now represent America within.

For Jamaica d which has not broken with CARICOM on Cuba and which is currently hosting the USS Nimitz in Kingston Harbor in what the US Embassy carefully described as a goodwill visit d Trump nominated Kari Lake. An Arizona-born television anchor with no known connection to Jamaica or the Caribbean and a public record of calling for the mass deportation of immigrants.

The message to the Caribbean is clear. Alignment with Washington opens diplomatic doors. Distance keeps them closed – or worse, puts an anti-immigration hardliner behind them.

A Caribbean Heritage Month Footnote

Carroll’s nomination arrives during Caribbean American Heritage Month – a month the Trump White House has not seen fit to formally recognize with a proclamation. The irony is not lost on Caribbean diaspora observers that the administration’s most symbolically positive gesture toward the Caribbean community in June 2026 is the nomination of a Caribbean-born woman to a diplomatic post – while simultaneously declining to issue the standard recognition of the month dedicated to celebrating Caribbean Americans.

Carroll’s nomination is subject to Senate confirmation.