Guyanese are gullible

Cassandra's Candid Corner
Stabroek News
September 12, 1999


* After the Jonestown disaster, the infamy of which put Guyana on the map (the Jonestown tragedy is reputedly the most widely reported event in human history - even more than the first moon landing), I used to take pride on every possible occasion during my travels around the globe to boast that Guyanese are real smart where religion was concerned. They are not to be duped by snake oil salesmen in the form of religious demagogues.

Now the Hulk Hogan of evangelism comes a-calling, and tens of thousands respond in a mass hysteria, pelting their arms in the air and shouting with fevour, amen and alleluia. So I must be wrong. Guyanese are gullible. But then again, if 30,000 people visited the crusade, that's only 4% of the population. And if, like me, half of those (I am being conservative) went because dey fass (as in curious) or they like a good farce and a good showman, then only 2% of the population actually bought into the performance. So that's not so bad - if it were just that.

Let me tell you what I find difficult to accept. When poor people pay thousands of dollars to transport themselves from far off places in the belief that their lives can be changed by a charmer, I can't tek dat. And when, on top of that, the ubiquitous begging bowls for donations are passed around, I can't tek dat, and when I see physically challenged people being bounced down and run over, bile rises. And when media photographers and interviewers try to do their investigative journalism thing for which they were trained, and they too are firmly handled and dissuaded, my disgust soars. Worst of all though is to see those hoodwinked innocents trudging out of the Park with a greater vacuum in their soul, and dejection, despondency and disillusionment etched in their faces. "This was not their time". Come again next time, for next time will be your time. Or next time, or next time. I swear that no truer word was said than when Marx (Karl not Groucho) wrote that "Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the sentiment of a heartless world and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the masses". Religion is an emotional crutch for weak people. It is a substitute replacing an unachievable need using organised dogma, symbols and rituals.

But you know, I'm not too worried, because the historical imperative is on the side of reason. The performers will die of the same disease, namely they will be exposed. I remember the Oral Roberts of my youth whose decibels came out of the radio, exhorting us just to touch the radio and be healed. Poor neighbour Rawlins, one of the kindest, truest and finest gems that ever walked on the face of this earth; she stroked that radio for years and her plight and her physical condition remained unaltered. The disappointment increased day by day; I think she died of disillusion. It was the same Roberts, though, who became exposed when a few years ago he demanded from his following 10 million dollars or else he would commit suicide. Well, he didn't get the money, and as far as I hear he is still up and about - and still begging. And what about the "Machine Gun of God", Billy Graham. His unchristianness was put on display when he responded negatively, derogatorily and arrogantly on being asked what he would do if his daughter were to marry a black man. Jimmy and the bizarre Tammy Jo Bakker and Shambach are on the list. Bakker I think, is still in jail. I hope that Tammy Jo's expenditure on cosmetics, face lifts, false eyelashes and implants will use up the considerable ill-gotten dollar residue before he is released. My all-time favourite is Swaggart with his compulsion for prostitutes. The more he cried on T.V. begging for forgiveness and some more donations, the more I bent over with laughter. A couple months after repentance and supposed forgiveness by his flock, the police caught him again trying to comfort a whore with his rod and his staff.

Of course, while they may joke with people's lives, they are deadly serious when it comes to dealing with their competitors and potential usurpers of their turf. Most of the miracle working, bible thumping, fire and brimstone promising paragons of virtue calls the other one a false prophet.

In the end, unfortunately, as times get harder and pressure mounts, some people do need a quick fix. And who better to offer a state of happy hallucinatory derangement than the film flam man who touches your head with the purported extended hand of Christ, thus creating the need for further dependence and fortifying an obsessional neurosis. Of course, wherever there is fixee there is a fixer it. How I know? No, not because Sinclair Lewis' fictional character, Elmer Gantry tells me so. Rather it is because of the myriad wannabees who I espied mingling with the masses at the Park, so as to see the master in action. Priests from missions were there; a host of preachers from all denominations and sects, recognizable from their T.V., tent and street corner performances, were there making mental notes. Soon, strengthened by the exposure to the use of technology, gimmickry and pantomime, one can expect to witness an upsurge in the local variety of faith healers. Look, I am thinking of putting up a shingle myself. But, nah, I ent reach dat level of con-artistry yet.

I'll tell you what else disturbs me. The attitude of women to all this. Just as women will subsume their concerns on gender issues to their Party's male constructed political ideology, so too will they prostrate themselves unquestionably to the religious sophistry of the pretender. I suppose this is nothing new. Where are the modern day suffragettes? Women, who are usually so practical, seem to be the easiest prey from the religious flim-flammers. Fortunately, there are those like Elizabeth Cady Stanton who recognise the insidious oppression. "You may go over the world and you will find that every form of religion which has breathed on the face of this earth has degraded women. There is not one which has not made her subject to man."

Ah done for today. Now leh me sit back and await the flak from any holier-than-thou who wishes to impress his following by taking me to task.


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Guyana: Land of Six Peoples