Political Conflict, “Good Governance,” and the Struggle for St. Martin’s Soul

Introduction:

The ongoing political drama that has thrown two ministers into the vortex of a parliamentary vote of non-confidence may appear to be unprecedented. But we have seen this movie before. In fact, some would say several times before.

My first recollection goes back to the days of Joe Richardson and Rene Richardson in the three-man Executive Council chaired by Lt. Governor Ralph Richardson. The two commissioners- Joe and Rene - were at loggerheads with their party leader, Claude Wathey, who had asked them to resign. They refused, daring Claude to fire them on the floor of the Council. This was no political bravado. They knew he could and would do it and he did. The episode showed some glaring fissures in the system which we have, in by and large, chosen to ignore.

And now? Different actors; same script.

The grave conflict between the Minister of VSA and his party leader and Prime Minister has been depicted in some quarters as an example of lack of good governance. For me it goes deeper than that, augmented by a personality clash that has been simmering for a long time.

The Governance Paradox

Across the Caribbean, the term “Good Governance” is often brandished like a scepter—or a cudgel. In Sint Maarten, it is a sort of a Sword of Damocles wielded by the Kingdom of the Netherlands, yet the very structures intended to facilitate this governance are replete with systemic contradictions.

While the 15-seat Parliament remains the theater of public life, the script is dictated by a constitutional framework that is both "blind" to political parties and subservient to an overseas power.

To understand political conflict in St. Maarten is to understand a paradox: a system that operates without any mechanism for institutional conflict resolution and an autonomous territory that operates under a "guarantee" of good governance that it does not control.

The "Invisible" Party: Constitutional Blindness and the Free Mandate

At the heart of St. Maarten’s political instability lies a legal vacuum. The Constitution of Sint Maarten (Staatsregeling) does not officially recognize political parties. They are viewed as political lists, treated as private associations, legally invisible to the formal mechanisms of the state.

This "blindness" is codified in Article 56, which dictates that Members of Parliament vote "without instruction" (zonder last) or to put it differently, they vote their conscience. While intended to protect the conscience of the individual representative, this "Free Mandate" creates a structural incentive for fragmentation.

In the absence of a constitutional anchor for political parties, the "ship-jumping" phenomenon - that we have become accustomed to - is not merely a moral failure of politicians; it is paradoxically a legal right. Because the seat belongs to the individual and not the list that secured the votes, the system transitions abruptly from a collective electoral effort to an individualistic representative phase. This creates a perpetual state of "transactional politics."

Without a unifying ideology to bind a faction together, the only remaining glue is the personal relationship or the immediate political objective. When those unravel, the government stumbles or could even fall.

Election as a Popularity Contest.

In most developed countries, political conflict is channeled through ideology—left versus right, labor versus capital, progressive versus conservative. In St. Maarten, the vacuum of ideology has turned the electoral process into a high-stakes popularity contest.

The open-list proportional representation system encourages candidates to compete not just against the opposition, but against their own colleagues on the same list. To survive, a politician must be a "vote-getter." This shift from platform-based politics to personality-based politics has profound implications for "Good Governance".

One is what could be termed Policy Inconsistency. In other words, when parties are built around charismatic leaders rather than sets of ideas, policy often shifts with the whims of individuals, notwithstanding the required “party manifesto” which I doubt most candidates read.

Secondly, it could result in Susceptibility to Corruption: This is because the pressure to maintain personal popularity can lead to the "clientelism" seen in recent vote-buying scandals that has resulted in the criminal conviction of at least one former MP.

Thirdly, there is the danger of what I call Institutional Memory Loss. This means that each new "personality-driven" party that is formed to contest an election often discards the long-term planning of its predecessor(s), leading to a cycle of "restarting" the government every few years, if such new parties get in power.

The Absent Umpire: The Lack of Conflict Resolution Mechanisms

Perhaps the most damaging aspect of the current political system is the total lack of institutional mechanisms for conflict resolution.

Internally, there is no legal body to mediate disputes between a party board and its Ministers or MPs. When a rift occurs, there is no "cooling-off" period or arbitration; there is only the "nuclear option" of withdrawing support from the Minister or MP or even from the coalition.

The political culture in places like Curacao is however different. The case of former Minister of Finance, Javier Silvana, is very instructive here. Faced with a pending investigation by the Public Prosecutor into a public dispute with the Inspector of Taxes, Silvana resigned as Minister, apparently at the behest of his party and later took up his seat in Parliament as the highest vote-getter in the last election.

Externally, the Kingdom framework itself lacks a "Dispute Regulation" (Geschillenregeling). For decades, the Caribbean constituent territories have asked for an independent judiciary to settle legal disagreements between the islands and The Hague. Instead, the Kingdom Government—dominated by Dutch ministers—acts as both the prosecutor and the judge.

This absence of a referee ensures that political conflict in St. Maarten always escalates to a crisis level. Without a middle ground for mediation, the only available responses are surrender or collapse.

“Good Governance” as a colonial tool

The term “Good Governance” appears in Article 43 of the Kingdom Charter as a "guarantee function." However, in practice, this has become a classic tool of colonial dominance. The Netherlands utilizes its majority in the Kingdom Council of Ministers (RMR) to define what "good" looks like, often ignoring the local context or the expressed will of the people.

The Minister Plenipotentiary, who represents St. Maarten in the Kingdom Council of Ministers, sits at a table where they can speak but cannot truly vote against a Dutch majority. This creates a so-called "Democratic Deficit" where the most important decisions regarding St. Maarten’s financial and legal future are made by a body that is not accountable to the St. Maarten electorate.

When the Kingdom intervenes via "Instructions" or financial conditions (such as the Landspakketten), it is often framed as a necessary rescue of a "fragile" democracy. Yet, one must ask: is the “democracy” fragile because of internal incompetence, or because it was designed as a "straitjacket" that prevents the nation from ever achieving true maturity?

Besides, how can you talk of a “democracy” in a colony? Holding periodic elections (or popularity contests) does not, alone and of itself, constitute a democracy. If it were so, then Russia would be a democracy since it holds elections for the Knesset.

The Independence Imperative:

Many argue that St. Maarten is too small for independence. Or that it is “not ready” to achieve political sovereignty.

This is a worn out argument that has been repeated for over 40 years.

Its proponents point to the "safety net" of the Dutch Kingdom as a reason to maintain the status quo. However, this safety net often functions more like a spider’s web—providing security only at the cost of agency.

Of course, Independence is not a "cure-all” for our challenges. A "clean break" will not instantly fix the lack of political ideology or the transactional nature of the elections. However, Independence is a conditio sine qua non—a necessary condition—for the very survival of the St. Martin nation.

Independence shifts the burden of accountability. In the current colonial setting, local politicians can blame the "Instruction" from The Hague for their failures, and The Hague can blame "local corruption" for the island's woes. This circular blame game prevents the people from seeing the true face of their leadership. In a sovereign St. Martin, the "colonial boogeyman" vanishes, and the relationship between the government and the governed becomes direct and unfiltered.

But the debate about independence is one that should continue to be had. In the end, the people should be given the opportunity to express their position on the issue in a referendum that is long overdue.

Conclusion:

True "Good Governance" cannot be imported or guaranteed by an overseas power; it must be grown from the soil of the nation. It requires:

a. Constitutional Reform: Moving past constitutional "blindness" to recognize political parties as essential public institutions with internal rules and accountability.

b. A Shift in Culture: Moving from a "popularity contest" to a competition of ideas and long-term national visions.

c. Sovereign Responsibility: Embracing the "dignity of risk" that comes with independence.

The 1954 Kingdom Charter created an illusion of autonomy—a rebranding of colonial control aimed at satisfying international observers but left the Caribbean people in a state of suspended development. The so-called change of status known as “10-10-10” is the latest iteration of this rebranding effort.

But for St. Maarten to survive as a nation, it must move beyond the mirage of the Kingdom and build a house on the foundation of its own sovereignty. Only when the people are the ultimate judges of their own governance will "democracy" cease to be an antithetical concept in St. Martin.

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