Jamaica today is in a stronger position than it has been in decades. Poverty is trending downward, the economy is expanding, unemployment has fallen to historic lows, and inflation is broadly manageable. Prime Minister Andrew Holness and the Jamaica Labour Party have invested billions into social housing and social programmes, directly improving the lives of ordinary Jamaicans. Business taxes have been reduced, creating an environment that is friendlier to entrepreneurs and investors, while analysts continue to forecast growth. The administration has also built a reputation for fiscal discipline, balancing opportunity with stability. By any sober accounting, the JLP has a record worthy of reelection.
And yet, in the realm of politics, reality is often less important than perception. Despite delivering measurable gains, polls show either a tight race or even a lead for the People’s National Party. The paradox is glaring: a government that has steadied the nation and charted a path toward prosperity risks losing power to an opposition that has thrived not on policy substance but on propaganda. The uncomfortable truth for the JLP is that if it loses, it will not be because of weak performance, but because it surrendered the narrative battlefield to the PNP.
Andrew Holness governed with confidence, believing firmly that his record would speak for itself. But politics is not a quiet courtroom where facts are weighed in balance. It is a theatre, and in that theatre the PNP’s propaganda machine has outperformed the JLP at every turn. While the JLP produced data, the PNP produced drama. While the JLP recited figures, the PNP told stories. The JLP offered charts and projections; the PNP offered memes and slogans. In a digital age where emotion often trumps reason, the PNP understood the playbook, and the JLP underestimated it.
The propaganda offensive was relentless. Every frustration, no matter how isolated, was amplified into a chorus of government failure. A delay in a housing project became evidence of national neglect. A single act of corruption by a low-level official was blown into a sweeping indictment of an entire administration. The PNP weaponized discontent with surgical precision, saturating the public sphere with messages that resonated on a visceral level. Meanwhile, the JLP seemed to believe that Jamaicans would pause long enough to read policy documents or parse economic statistics.
The government’s communications strategy failed in other ways as well. Holness and his advisors missed opportunities to position Jamaica’s achievements on the global stage. Advisors should have been flooding Bloomberg and the Wall Street Journal with op-eds presenting Jamaica as a case study in fiscal turnaround and social progress. Holness himself should have been a regular guest on international podcasts, not only building his profile as a statesman but creating feedback loops of pride and legitimacy back home. Jamaicans would have felt the weight of his leadership if they saw him celebrated abroad. Instead, too much of the government’s story remained bottled up on the island, drowned out by the PNP’s thunderous messaging.
Nowhere was the asymmetry sharper than on social media. The PNP dominated TikTok and Instagram with sharp, entertaining, and emotionally resonant content. These were not policy seminars, but they did not need to be. They were captivating enough to shape perceptions, particularly among the young. The JLP’s digital presence, by contrast, was too often reactive, flat, and uninspiring. In the modern political battlefield, Instagram reels and TikTok videos matter as much as manifestos, and the PNP knew it. The JLP did not just lose the social media war; it often seemed not to realize the war was taking place.
The irony is that the JLP has the stronger manifesto by far. Its plan to transform Jamaica into a legal mediation hub demonstrates strategic vision, positioning the island as a destination for resolving international disputes and drawing investment into financial and legal services. Its proposal to integrate artificial intelligence into education through an AI learning assistant shows a forward-looking commitment to revolutionizing learning and preparing the next generation for the future. These are concrete, measurable, and ambitious policies. By contrast, the PNP’s manifesto reads like a sentimental wish list. Suggestions such as placing more Maroons and Rastafarians in the Senate may appeal to cultural pride, but they do little to address Jamaica’s structural challenges. Symbolism is not strategy, and nostalgia is not policy.
And yet, despite this stark contrast, the PNP has been able to capture more attention and more enthusiasm. Why? Because its propaganda machine is simply more effective. Politics, at its core, is about shaping perception. The JLP failed to recognize that voters are not inspired by balance sheets. They are moved by narratives. They are swayed by the sense that someone is speaking directly to their frustrations. The PNP understood this truth, and the JLP ignored it at its peril.
Holness also missed opportunities to confront his administration’s shortcomings directly. Open forums to discuss allegations of corruption, inefficiency, or dissatisfaction would have projected humility and accountability. Instead, silence on these matters created the impression of arrogance. A confident leader does not fear confronting flaws. By sidestepping them, Holness allowed the PNP to paint them in the darkest colors possible.
The tragedy is that the JLP deserves a third term. By every rational standard, it has done more to stabilize Jamaica than any administration in recent memory. It has reduced poverty, created jobs, managed inflation, cut taxes, and invested in people. It has charted a course toward making Jamaica a regional hub for business, finance, and education. Its manifesto offers practical pathways to the future. The PNP’s platform, by contrast, is long on emotion and short on execution. Yet in politics, perception often outweighs performance, and propaganda often outweighs policy.
If the JLP loses, it will be because it failed to master the politics of perception. It will be because it believed competence was enough when, in fact, competence must be sold with the same energy as slogans. It will be because it underestimated the PNP’s propaganda machine, which has proven far more adept at setting the agenda, stirring emotion, and shaping narratives. The lesson is painful but clear. In the world of politics, substance without story is a dangerous gamble, and the JLP may pay the price for ignoring that truth.
Jamaica today is stronger because of the JLP. But if that progress is not communicated, if it is not translated into a story that resonates with voters, then the JLP risks being remembered not as the party that built stability but as the party that squandered it. If defeat comes, they will have no one to blame but themselves.