​T&T Manifestos Aren’t a Plan..​ Imbert?

It has become almost routine in Trinidad and Tobago for the party elected to form the Government to treat its political manifesto as though it were the country’s official policy framework. That habit may be understandable in the heat of an election cycle, manifestos are, after all, the contract a party offers voters, but it is also a weakness in how T&T approach's national development. A manifesto is not a plan of government. It is usually a broad statement of intent with a long list of promises, few clear objectives, and even fewer measurable targets. It may signal the direction a party wants to take, but too often it is also a glossy public relations document only loosely grounded in data, costings, timelines, or institutional capacity.

Government, however, is not run on direction alone. The devil is always in the details. Running a country demands detail, sequencing, coordination, and constant follow-through. The central task of any administration is to set priorities and develop an action plan that can be executed across ministries and agencies, with responsibilities clearly assigned and progress tracked. The hard part is discipline: sticking to what matters most and delivering on key commitments, rather than lurching from one urgent issue to the next. Many priorities that sound simple in opposition shift once in office, because meeting electoral promises can collide with fiscal reality, legal constraints, and the complexity of implementation. That is not an excuse, it is precisely why a manifesto must be translated into a serious governing framework early in a term, not treated as a substitute for one.

Nowhere is this gap between announcements and outcomes more dangerous than in the fight against crime. It is true that no society can eradicate criminal activity entirely, but the murder rate and the ecosystem of violence around it must be meaningfully reduced. That will not happen through headline-driven policing alone. It does not matter if a large cache of drugs is “found” because of “intelligence,” or if weapons and ammunition are seized, if the traffickers and organizers behind those shipments are not identified, arrested, prosecuted, and convicted. These so-called “successes” become empty public relations exercises when the main perpetrators remain free to continue operating. Seizures can be useful, but they are not the finish line; they are, at best, the start of a chain of work that must lead to dismantled networks and convictions in court.

A serious crime strategy must therefore be judged not by the size of a drug haul or the number of items displayed at a press briefing, but by whether the State can consistently turn intelligence into arrests, arrests into sound case files, and case files into successful prosecutions. That requires coordination: police, prosecutors, forensic services, border security, the courts, witness protection, and anti-money-laundering enforcement must function as one system. If any link is weak, poor investigations, lost evidence, delayed trials, intimidated witnesses, the entire effort collapses into theatre. The public is right to demand more than optics. They deserve results that actually change daily life.

The same demand for substance over spin applies to corruption and governance. Each year, the Corruption Perceptions Index (CPI) published by Transparency International measures perceived levels of public sector corruption based on assessments from experts and business executives. The latest report has again ignited controversy locally, including claims by government officials that the organization lacks credibility. The Finance Minister has blamed the former People’s National Movement (PNM) administration for theft and corrupt practices, citing allegations of irregular contracts and expenditure, and pointing to a Procurement Regulator’s report suggesting over $5 billion was lost in a single year. He also alleged that the Board of Inland Revenue was sabotaged so corruption could not be properly investigated, and argued that these failures badly damaged the country’s revenue base and savings.

If such claims are true, they are serious and demand more than political argument. But that is precisely the point: allegations, even dramatic ones, do not rebuild trust. Citizens need evidence, transparency, and consequences. If massive sums were stolen from the public purse, the State must demonstrate that it can investigate competently, publish audit findings, refer matters for prosecution, recover assets where possible, and reform the systems that allowed losses to occur in the first place. The country cannot reduce corruption by trading blame across election cycles. It reduces corruption by strengthening procurement, tightening internal controls, protecting whistleblowers, enforcing conflict-of-interest rules, and ensuring oversight bodies are properly resourced and independent. In short: credibility comes from institutions that work, not speeches that score points.

So what are the next steps?

First, the Government should publish a clear policy framework that goes beyond the manifesto, one with priorities, targets, timelines, costs, and named institutions responsible for delivery.

Second, it must define success properly: in crime, success is not seizures but convictions and reduced violence; in corruption, success is not accusations but proven cases, recovered assets, and stronger safeguards.

Third, it must invest in the unglamorous backbone of execution, case management, forensic capacity, court efficiency, procurement transparency, and independent oversight. And finally, it must report to the public with honesty and regularity, not in bursts of PR, but in consistent updates that show what is working, what is not, and what is being fixed.

Manifestos win elections. Action plans build countries. Trinidad and Tobago needs the discipline to move from intent to implementation, from headlines to outcomes, and from political theatre to competent, coordinated governance.

Sarge