The Tribune

By TERRY MILLER

WE live in a strange political paradox — a nation that sings the hymns of democracy while often marching to the drumbeat of autocracy. We speak of power belonging to the people, yet in practice, that power feels rationed, doled out to us in five-year intervals.

Picture this: I hire a gardener to tend my nursery. Day after day, plants wither, weeds take over, and growth stalls. After a few serious conversations, if nothing changes, I let him go. Not because I enjoy firing people — but because the health of my garden demands it. More importantly, I can. The power to decide who tends my garden is mine.

But in the garden of national life, we have entrusted men and women with the care of our collective wealth — human, natural, and financial — and then locked ourselves out of the gate. We must watch from the sidelines as the weeds grow, the soil erodes, and the harvest dwindles, powerless to intervene until the next election cycle.

This is not democracy in its truest form. True democracy is living, breathing, responsive — a system of government that remains of the people, by the people, and for the people, not merely once every five years, but every single day.

The flaws in our ‘democracy’

Our version of democracy has critical gaps. Political parties are still not legally required to register, disclose their sources of funding, or account for how that money is spent. This leaves fertile ground for corruption.

At the funeral of Edward St George in 2004, Sir Jack Hayward admitted that the Grand Bahama Port Authority “hedges its bets” by donating to both political parties. When corporations feel comfortable hedging their bets – in essence paying both sides – they know that whoever wins will support their initiatives and grant their requested concessions.

This is the danger: when there are no laws regulating campaign finance, no Freedom of Information Act(with teeth), and no transparency in government spending, corporate funders often pull the strings and ordinary Bahamians are left standing on the sidelines wondering what happened.

Bahamians see this and feel powerless, disrespected, and even develop a kind of quiet self-loathing. This disempowerment breeds corruption at every level — from the citizen who feels justified in cutting corners, to the rise in theft, fraud, and violence. If we are serious about bringing peace to this country, we must confront these issues honestly and transparently.

When democracy fails, violence fills the gap

When democracy is weakened — when corruption is tolerated, when transparency is optional, when citizens feel voiceless — the cracks in society widen. And through those cracks, crime and violence creep in.

Think about it: when people lose faith that the system works for them, they stop playing by its rules. When government contracts are awarded behind closed doors, when foreign corporations leapfrog Bahamian entrepreneurs, when political financiers call the shots — ordinary citizens feel cheated, humiliated, and angry.

That anger does not stay contained. It festers. It turns into a quiet rebellion — one that shows itself in small acts of dishonesty, in tax evasion, in cutting corners. Over time, it erupts in bigger ways: theft, fraud, gang activity, even murder.

Corruption is not just a “political issue”. It is a public safety issue. Every time a bribe goes unpunished, every time justice is delayed for the wealthy but swift for the poor, every time a citizen sees that money or connections matter more than merit — respect for the rule of law erodes. And when respect for the law is gone, so too is the restraint that keeps violence at bay.

Democracies under siege

Worldwide, there are now 91 autocracies and 88 democracies — and of those democracies, only 29 are considered “full” democracies. Worse, 72 percent of the world’s population lives under some form of autocratic rule.

The Bahamas, though a relatively strong democracy, does not qualify as a “full democracy”. Corruption, limited judicial independence, lack of campaign-finance regulation, and no robust Freedom of Information Act hold us back.

The sobering truth is this: many democracies have failed to create an environment where the majority of citizens feel genuinely served.

Our powers as the electorate

This article is directed to the electorate of The Bahamas. We, the people, must be vigilant in guarding our borders, our cultural heritage, and our fragile democracy.

As election season approaches, let us recognise our power:

To choose the governing party.

To demand clear, specific policies in party manifestos.

To insist — through civic pressure — on:

Accountability and transparency

The removal of corrupt or ineffective officials

Electoral reform and fair processes

Freedom of Information laws and real access to public records

Empowerment of independent watchdog organisations.

Let us not just passively accept party manifestos. Let us shape them. Let us hold our leaders accountable to the promises they make.

And let us ask ourselves the hard question: if you hired someone to do a job, and three years later all they gave you were excuses and reports — but the job was still undone — what would you do?

Democracy gives us the power to choose, to act, and to correct course. This election season, let us use that power.