Democracy Under Threat: Silence, Fear, and the Cost of Political Dependency
Recently, at the church service marking the 71st anniversary of the Democratic Labour Party, Reverend Monrelle Williams made a timely and necessary intervention. He warned that, in the absence of an effective Opposition, any government is prone to do as it pleases. He further reminded the congregation that leadership is not about one person dominating others, but about people working together for the good of the country.
His message was clear: citizens must speak out. If they do not, the pain and misery now being experienced by many Barbadians will continue.
That warning should not be taken lightly.
Two years ago, some Barbadians came to the defence of Marcia Weekes, the popular and fearless filmmaker and podcast host, after she became the subject of public attacks by persons aligned with the governing narrative. Some suggested that she should return to her native Jamaica. That attack was not merely personal; it was political. Ms. Weekes is not only the holder of a Barbadian passport, but also a Caribbean citizen with the right to live and work in Barbados.
The irony was striking. While some sought to silence her by questioning her belonging, the Government was simultaneously preparing the way for other Caribbean people to visit and live in Barbados without a passport. The contradiction exposed the real objective: not immigration control, not national protection, but the attempted silencing of a critical voice.
From the outset, Prime Minister Mia Mottley and her administration signalled a preference for a new form of democracy. In 2018, the Prime Minister told Barbadians, in effect, “gimme the vote and watch me.” That phrase captured a governing philosophy that has since become increasingly clear.
But democracy is not a spectator sport.
The democratic idea rests on the principle that authority comes from the people and must remain accountable to the people. Mottley accepted the authority but has too often appeared to reject the accountability. The result is a governing culture in which citizens are expected to cheer, comply, and remain silent while decisions are made from above.
That is not participatory democracy. It is the behaviour of an elected dictatorship.
Sultana, in The Evolution of Democracy Through the Ages: Focus on the European Experience, reminds us that democracy is not fixed or finished. It remains open to improvement and must constantly address flaws, corruption, exclusion, and institutional weakness. Democracies survive through the development and maintenance of strong formal institutions: independent judiciaries, functioning legislatures, political parties, interest groups, and civic organizations.
The Mottley administration has claimed to be pursuing reform. Yet much of the evidence points not to the strengthening of institutions, but to their weakening. What is being created is a climate of dependency, nepotism, executive dominance, and political control.
The Government’s ability to sweep the electoral slate three times, combined with the politicisation of the public service and the control or intimidation of media spaces, has contributed to a dangerous atmosphere in Barbados. In that atmosphere, opposition to the Government is too often portrayed as opposition to Barbados itself.
That is a serious threat to democratic life.
Amin, Ahmad, and Zafar, in their work on consensus politics and consociationalism, explain that populist leaders often exploit social divisions by appealing to emotions, distortions, and beliefs in order to shape public opinion in their favour. Such leaders rely on slogans, narratives, and emotional triggers. Over time, democratic systems can slide toward autocracy when dissent is treated as disloyalty and when institutions are bent to serve one dominant political personality.
Barbados is showing too many signs of that drift.
The recent drawing into the Government’s embrace of former political villains such as Chris Sinckler and Michael Lashley has raised further questions. For years, the public was told that the former Stuart administration was incompetent and responsible for national decline. Yet some of the same individuals once condemned are now being brought into ministerial service by those who vilified them.
That development raises questions not only about consistency, but about trust, principle, and the credibility of political narratives.
Reverend Williams was therefore correct to speak about fear. He boldly observed that many persons in Barbados appear afraid to speak because they believe somebody, somehow, will find a way to punish them. His own response was powerful. He said he did not want anything, and that he could not be “included” because there was nothing in which to include him, since he wanted nothing.
That is the posture of a free citizen.
Unfortunately, too many Barbadians now believe they must be included. They believe that access, opportunity, appointment, contract, promotion, or relief depends on political closeness. Those who reject that culture often become cynical and conclude that all politicians are the same.
That cynicism is dangerous. It weakens democracy further.
Recently, it was reported that Barbados could lose an estimated $1.6 billion in revenue because of low productivity. That figure should force serious national reflection. Productivity does not collapse only because workers are lazy. It collapses when morale is low, institutions are weak, opportunities are unfairly distributed, and citizens feel detached from national purpose.
Appointments, procurement opportunities, public contracts, promotions, and access to state services must be based on fairness, competence, transparency, and merit. Mowler, in What Makes Despotism Wrong, argues that public decisions must be made in a procedurally fair manner and based on relevant qualifications, abilities, traits, and characteristics. That principle lies at the heart of good governance.
When people believe that merit no longer matters, public trust declines. When they believe political loyalty is more important than ability, resentment grows. When they believe access depends on singing in the leader’s choir, democracy becomes hollow.
Back in the late 1970s, a former minister in a Barbados Labour Party government is remembered for the cruel sentiment that if your name contained the letters DLP, even if your name was Douglas Leopold Phillips, starvation should be your fate. Whether stated literally or politically exaggerated over time, the message captured a brutal partisan logic: political difference should carry punishment.
Today, that old mantra appears to have taken a new form: if you do not sing in Mottley’s choir, your fate may be the same.
That is not democracy.
Democracy requires more than elections. It requires freedom from fear. It requires institutions that serve all citizens, not only loyalists. It requires a press that questions power. It requires public officers who act without political intimidation. It requires citizens who can speak without fear of punishment. It requires leaders who understand that authority is temporary and accountability is permanent.
Reverend Williams has done Barbados a service by reminding us that democracy is still desirable, still necessary, and still worth defending.
The question now is whether enough Barbadians will find the courage to defend it before silence becomes surrender.
Derek Alleyne
September 1st, 2026
