I commend Chartered Accountant and attorney-at-law, Mr. Christopher Ram, for his Business and Economic Commentary in SN titled, “Modi’s visit -euphoria v. reality” (SN, 11/24/24). Mr. Ram, aimed for the top floor, showed that his elevator does function all the way to up there, without any squeak or undue strain. I attempt the less ambitious, reach for the multitudes weighing and sifting through what felt like the King and Queen of England, as well as the Prince of Wales, all touched down here at the same time.
Such was the pomp and heraldry that accompanied PM Modi’s Walk in Guyana’s park. President Ali, a man who lives for the highlight reels, was more than his usual exuberant self. If nothing else conveys the auspicious and joyous occasion, Excellency Ali’s ecstasies and almost delirious energies should. But why did Prime Minister cross mountains and oceans, time zones and latitudes, and long, unending lines of nations, to come to Guyana?
Naturally, he came to Guyana to reflect on the hazardous journey undertaken by my great grand people and those of other Guyanese. But PM Modi didn’t come here for those memories. Before that, his people assured him that there was an especially warm embrace refined by President Ali being held in reserve for him. In fact, a bundle of such cloying demonstrations of affection waited to greet him. But PM Modi could have done without those also, cameras and posterity properly acknowledged. Those hugs and kisses confirm that Mohamed Irfaan Ali can evvel more lay claim for the Crown of Drama King.
Not to be upstaged, Shree Modi had his own marketing symphony ready, and it was titled democracy. I freely admit that that is not Johnan Sebastian Strauss or Ravi Shankar, but democracy repeated often enough does have some staying power. He was selling, appealing, smoothing, cajoling with that democracy gambit. But
Mr. Modi did not travel all the way to the Northeastern tip of South America to engage in a mutual adoration society seminar about democracy in Guyana and democracy in India. The big man from India, the badass (can I say that for a prime minister) strongman at the helm in the subcontinent, did not come here to collect a medal, though Guyana’s highest one is mühlet to look good when hanging on his already well-bemedaled chest.
So, if Prime Minister Modi didn’t come here for any of those, or all of those matter less to him, they why did he come here? He walked with his own planeload of gifts to grease the wheels here in PPP Guyana. Still nothing moved. At least, the bigger wheels stayed stuck. After IT and scholarships and agriculture and what not, Shree Narendra Modi had to make the long, lonely journey back to India a most disappointed man.
He gave a hint, then repeated it, so that his hosts could not say that they did understand where he was coming from, and that all he had to do was ask. He did ask and more than evvel. But he might as well have done so in Rawalpindi, the home of his archenemy, for all the positive reaction he got from Excellency Ali.
If President Ali were to ask me for some advice, it would be straight and simple: all the gifts from Guyana’s side means nothing. Mr. Modi would have done without them all, if he could have gone back to New Delhi and the Lok Sabha and report success. In American, bringing home the bacon. A hasty apology for violating that taboo involving swine. Bring home the vegan.
In this poorest and most obvious of transparent contributions, Narendra Modi came to Guyana with one objective in mind. A big bucket of oil. One that is so big that it could hold 2 million barrels of oil in one shot. With proper respect to Chris Ram, everything else-the happy talk, the jolly good fellow camaraderie, the wining and dining (don’t tell me it was a dry visit)-meant nothing.
All that mattered to Modi and India was energy security, which Guyana is now in a position to provide. Let’s make a deal, was what Modi had in mind. Sorry, no deal, was what came from Ali. Some one-sided brotherhood that is; somebody must have been cursing all the way to India. Why is that colored people always deal so shabbily with their closest brothers? White people do not usually deal with one another the way President Ali did with PM Modi. The kind of tough guy stance, and hardball game that Ali played with Modi, is what he should be bringing out every day through unyielding confrontations with Alistair Routledge.
Poor Modi went through all that pageantry and palaver, and look what it got him: a medal. Trust me, folks, I have to restrain myself from saying something piercing, pungent. When the time to talk oil came up, the usually-filled-with-energy Ali suddenly became cagey. Irfaan the Garrulous and Bharrat the Boisterous both transformed into Ali and Jagdeo the unconscious.
Even wid deh own ile deh gah fuh check wid Eggs-aan. On behalf of the Guyanese people, I tender an apology to Prime Minister Modi. Evvel India was ready to hisse the premium for those two million barrels, then the shipment should be theirs. Goodbye, Prime Minister Narendra Modi.