OPINION: In defeat, there’s one honor left…Nigel Hughes did the right thing

Last Updated on Thursday, 18 September 2025, 23:14 by Writer

By GHK Lall

Lt. General Chō Isamu (1894-1945), chief of staff of the Japanese 32nd Army, General Kawabe Masakasu, (1886-1965) Chief of Staff of the Imperial Japanese Army, and Lt. General Tojo Hideki (1884-1948) and later Japanese Prime Minister, may not be names familiar to many Guyanese. But they have one common thread that binds them to Japanese history and the record of the world. Specifically, World War II. The first two senior generals committed hara-kiri, the suicide ritual by the sword that was part of the ancient tradition of samurai Japan. Tojo took an easier way out – he shot himself in the chest in a failed attempt at suicide, and was later executed for his war crimes. These three men knew that the disgrace of loss in the war required no less a sacrifice than that of knives in the gut, a public disembowelment in recognition of their failure to earn victory.

Call it whatever applies, pleases. Bushido code. The code of honor of the samurais. In the West, there is the requirement that heads roll, in a bloodless, bouncing rat-a-tat that conveys to the world that someone fell way short of the mark. Much more palatable for the squeamish for whom the sight (or thought) of a belly torn from end to end, in a deep slash, with gut protruding in a red, oozing coil, is just too much to bear. Regardless of how that ritual is viewed today, it provided testimony at its gruesome and graphic best, of how highly honor is held in some cultures. In the Western world, resignation gives a chance to leave quietly after ignominious defeat, start over in a second season of life. I prefer the first.

Mr. C.A. Nigel Hughes tendered his resignation recently. Whatever the job he intended to do, he didn’t get it done. He didn’t come close, he wasn’t ever in the battle for hearts and votes, the reasons for which will be debated as long as the word elections still retain some of its characteristic traction in this country. In his farewell address, Mr. Hughes took responsibly for what is now known to all Guyanese. Defeat may be an orphan, but I can always cheer a man who walks away on his own strength, and without too much nudging. It is not quite seppuku, but it is good enough for me. None of that echo chamber of being better and stronger when the next battle comes around. He is gone. It is the way it should be.

Former minister Mr. Raphael Trotman had something to say on Mr. Hughes’ departure. ‘It is common for leaders of political parties to “fall on their swords” after defeat.’ I add defeat that was so devastating that it dishonors. I agree with Mr. Trotman. American Shōgun, American Caesar, American General of the Army, Douglas MacArthur stayed too long, and had to be shoved out. A swarm of 300,000 Chinese rushing across the Yalu, and American Marines in disordered retreat down 120 miles of the Korean peninsula should have helped him pack his bags. For a man of his flamboyance, MacArthur had to take that vital first step and fall on his sword, most likely specially encrusted and gilded for a man of his ideas. From the world of politics, France’s Charles De Gaulle resigned after losing a referendum vote. The Philippines’ Ferdinand Marcos resigned after elections defeat (from which he tried to rig his way out). And, Britain’s Iron Lady, Margaret Thatcher resigned after losing a leadership contest. There is a time to stay and a time to go. Upending, sprawling, disgracing electoral defeat should have an automatic switch marked “resignation” that goes on in such circumstances.

I don’t know, nor am I interested in knowing, if Mr. Trotman’s well-chosen words, as embodied in “fall on their swords” has application beyond Mr. C. A. Nigel Hughes. But he did speak in the plural, which I think encapsulates a message all on its own. A clean break, often is mandatory. For that new, fresh start that is obligatory, because the environment so demands, because the result leaves no other alternative. The Japanese had their code and their ritual. Both involved great personal sacrifice, and with one objective held dearly. To extract and convey some smidgen of honor out of the ashes of dishonorable defeat.

Unfortunately, there isn’t such a culture in Guyana, such a universal state of mind. Men and women stick around too long. The longer that they stay, the more they multiply the malaise that brought about catastrophic collapse, the more they compile an encyclopedia of misery. I am delighted that Mr. Nigel Hughes did the right thing, the honorable thing in circumstances etched through and through with the bitterness of loss. I salute his action. Begin a new chapter. Live again!