That CARICOM Charter of Civil Society

 Joint IACHR-CCJ Webinar for Justices of the Caribbean Court of Justice (CCJ), the CCJ Academy of Law (CAL), the Caribbean Association of Judicial Officers (CAJO) and Bar Associations

Topic: Equality Before the Law, Arbitrary and Pre-trial Detention

 

Remarks by Wesley Gibbings on the Derek Ramsamooj Case and CARICOM’s Charter of Civil Society

November 5, 2026

Distinguished justices, colleagues and friends,

A brief personal note before I begin my submission to this esteemed audience. I worked at the CARICOM Secretariat in the mid-1990s when the Charter of Civil Society was being developed as a companion instrument alongside the Single Market and Economy.

I have since repeatedly attempted to place on the public record the habitual omission of the Charter as an indispensable feature of our integration movement.

As a human rights defender operating in the international space, I have also sought to promote recognition of this Caribbean aspiration.

In the deliberations on Target 16.10 of the Sustainable Development Goals, for example, I recorded our Caribbean ambitions on public access to information and the protection of fundamental freedoms.

More recent discussions on the Escazú Agreement on environmental information included advocacy linking it to the CARICOM Charter.

When Caribbean Heads gathered to sign on to the Charter in Antigua and Barbuda almost 30 years ago, they were providing an intellectual basis for numerous interventions of this kind in the years to come.

The Charter was an ambitious undertaking to signal that regional integration must mean more than trade liberalisation, economic cooperation, diplomatic solidarity, and the free movement of goods, services and people.

It was, in short, an attempt to establish a collective understanding of the relationship between Caribbean governments and the people they serve.

Yet, almost three decades later, we are still struggling with a failure to translate such a dynamic into everyday legal, political and institutional practice.

I consider the Charter to be our Caribbean bill of rights. This captures its ambition, even if we must recognise its actual legal status.

The Charter has so far been treated as an agreeable declaration, occasionally invoked at regional meetings and political gatherings, but rarely used as a living instrument for interrogating public policy, challenging official conduct, or defending the rights of Caribbean citizens.

It is my view that the recent CCJ judgment in the Derek Ramsamooj case offers an opportunity to change that.

I suggest that the judgment has awakened a dormant dream.

Some participants on the IACHR/CCJ Webinar

The case raised questions that go to the very heart of regional integration.

Ramsamooj had experienced detention in Suriname between 2020 and 2022. His passport was confiscated, and he was subjected to a procedure known as beperking, which permitted restrictions on communication between detainees and the outside world during investigations.

In his case, the restrictions denied him direct access to legal counsel during critical stages of his detention and interrogation. He was questioned in Dutch, through an interpreter, and signed documents in a language he did not understand.

One important question before the CCJ was whether rights granted to CARICOM nationals under the Revised Treaty of Chaguaramas could be meaningfully exercised without adequate protection of fundamental human rights.

I believe the Court's response was significant.

Yes, it denied the proposition that the Charter of Civil Society had somehow become a legally binding treaty. But at the same time, the Court also rejected the suggestion that the document was merely a symbolic declaration without practical relevance.

Instead, the judges recognised the Charter as an important guide to interpreting Community law and identifying the general principles underpinning the integration project.

Together with member states' constitutions and international human rights instruments, the Charter helped the Court identify a regional baseline of rights and freedoms.

The judgment established that freedom of movement and other rights under the Revised Treaty cannot be effectively exercised without minimum human rights protections.

Among these is access to legal counsel of one's choice, which the Court recognised as a regional customary standard.

The judgment establishes that the exercise of rights under the regional integration framework cannot be separated from the protection of fundamental human rights.

Second, it gives the Charter a practical interpretative significance that its previous treatment had largely denied it.

And third, it sends a message to regional governments that their commitments to human dignity, due process and fundamental freedoms cannot simply be confined to ceremonial declarations.

The judgment has therefore reopened a conversation that should never have been allowed to disappear.

To appreciate the significance of this moment, we need to examine the circumstances leading to its creation.

The West Indian Commission, established in 1989, recognised that Caribbean integration needed a more people-centred foundation.

Its 1992 report, Time for Action, proposed a Charter of Civil Society as part of a broader effort to give regional integration a democratic and ethical framework.

The proposal was politically endorsed by CARICOM in October 1992. Agreement on its principles followed in 1993, and the final document was signed in February 1997.

The Charter’s 27 articles address an impressive range of concerns.

They cover equality before the law, personal security, fair hearings, freedom of expression, democratic participation, peaceful assembly, good governance, social and economic rights, education, health, workers' rights, cultural diversity and environmental concerns.

This was not an insignificant ambition.

The problem was that successive governments endorsed the principles without demonstrating a comparable commitment to their systematic implementation.

Instead, with some considerable justification, CARICOM integration continues to concentrate heavily on markets, trade and functional cooperation, while its human rights dimensions remain largely neglected.

The result is that we have a regional instrument containing an impressive catalogue of democratic and human rights commitments, but without the public awareness, institutional follow-through, and organised civic pressure necessary to give those commitments sustained political relevance.

This brings me to what I consider the most serious limitation confronting the opportunity created by the Ramsamooj judgment.

We have secured an important judicial recognition, but where is the vibrant regional human rights advocacy environment capable of translating that recognition into changed official behaviour?

This is not to suggest that Caribbean civil society is without experience, courage, or accomplishment. There are areas in which some significant gains have been made, against seemingly impossible odds.

But the challenge is the absence of a sufficiently strong, coordinated and sustained regional constituency capable of making human rights compliance a consistent feature of CARICOM's political and institutional life.

Civil society organisations remain too frequently disconnected from one another, while professional associations and other institutions that should be natural participants in human rights advocacy have not always been sufficiently visible in this regional conversation.

Bar associations, in particular, have a key role to play.

They possess the professional standing, legal expertise, and institutional independence to interrogate legislation, challenge questionable administrative practices, promote constitutional literacy, and support strategic litigation.

They should be among the most active, but not the sole, defenders of the regional human rights standards reinforced by the CCJ.

The point is not simply to establish more organisations or organise additional conferences. It is to build a functioning regional advocacy ecosystem. We do not need to agree on everything.

A court can interpret the law but it cannot substitute for an organised citizenry determined to insist on compliance.

The Charter's own limitations make this point particularly important. Its declaratory status means that it does not automatically override national legislation or provide an independent judicial remedy for every alleged violation.

The CCJ judgment has not transformed it into a binding regional bill of rights. Perhaps it cannot or should not.

The importance of this judgment lies in the Court's recognition that the Charter’s principles can inform the interpretation and application of binding Community law.

This distinction must be understood.

It would be a mistake to expect the Ramsamooj judgment to resolve every human rights dispute in the region or to provide a general remedy for every instance of governmental misconduct.

Nor should we assume that a favourable judicial interpretation will automatically influence the behaviour of governments, police services, public officials or other institutions.

Judicial recognition is an important beginning, not an implementation strategy.

Consider the implications for freedom of expression, access to public information, restrictions on peaceful assembly, policing practices and the independence of public institutions, and … listen to this … emergency and security legislation.

The Charter provides a regional framework for examining all these matters.

But who will consistently ask the difficult questions?

Who will monitor compliance?

Who will prepare the submissions, challenge questionable policies, defend those whose rights are threatened and ensure that regional governments cannot conveniently forget their commitments?

And who will maintain public attention when the immediate controversy has passed?

These are not responsibilities that can be delegated exclusively to the CCJ.

They belong to a wider democratic constituency.

I suggest that the Ramsamooj judgment should become the catalyst for a deliberate regional initiative to reclaim the Charter.

There are several practical steps worth considering.

First, CARICOM should be pressed to demonstrate that the Charter's monitoring and reporting provisions are being implemented. Article 25 provides an institutional starting point.

Second, civil society organisations and bar associations should establish a more structured regional mechanism for monitoring human rights commitments. This should not be left to a UPR or even the Inter-American System.

Third, the Charter should become a much more prominent feature of legal education, journalism training, public policy discussions, and civic education.

Fourth, CARICOM must make meaningful civil society participation a regular feature of its decision-making processes rather than an occasional expression of goodwill.

There were early indications of this. As president of the Association of Caribbean Media Workers, for example, I served as a member of the Advisory Committee to the Prime Ministerial Sub-Committee on the CSME.

We also served on several deliberative bodies dealing with a variety of other regional developmental concerns. None of this applies anymore.

Finally, regional media organisations must take a more deliberate interest in monitoring the distance between official declarations and actual public experience.

The Derek Ramsamooj judgment has given us a reason to revisit a promise that has been neglected for almost three decades.

It has been demonstrated that the CARICOM Charter of Civil Society is not simply a historical curiosity or an attractive collection of diplomatic aspirations.

Its principles have a place in the interpretation of Community law and in defining the human rights standards that must accompany regional integration.

But we should resist the temptation to celebrate judicial recognition as if it were the final achievement.

The real test will be whether Caribbean governments behave differently.

The absence of a vibrant, coordinated human rights advocacy environment is a critical weakness at this time.

Without it, the CCJ's intervention may remain an important legal milestone without becoming an effective instrument of political and institutional change.

The dream articulated in 1997 was never simply about establishing another regional declaration.

It was about building a Caribbean Community in which the dignity, rights and democratic participation of its people would be as important as the economic and political arrangements negotiated by their governments.

I humbly submit the CCJ judgment in the Ramsamooj case has helped awaken that dream. Now it is time for us to rise from our sleep.

Thank you.

Labour's uncertain future

For decades, the T&T trade union movement played key roles in determining the pace and direction of national social, economic, and political development.

The turbulent 1930s - during which unions in their current form emerged out of strife - provided a critical turning point in our history.

Here came organisations equipping themselves with the means to conduct and maintain collective bargaining as a norm and to manage workplace grievances, while recognising a role in the wider developmental space.

There are two enduring features of the tumult. The first is that it has always been impossible to separate unions from national power dynamics and the second is that chronic fractures, not always ideological, have ritualistically militated against sustained unity.

Current evidence of both phenomena exists. If we wished, we could go back to the Workers and Farmers Party (WFP) of the 1960s and the United Labour Front (ULF) of the 1970s – both of which featured prominent activists spanning labour and politics.

The United National Congress (UNC) of 1989 included remote elements of a ULF legacy. The Peoples’ National Movement (PNM) meanwhile never offered similar credentials.

It always seemed to me that unions required independent spaces of their own. I discussed some of this recently with former trade union leader and Industrial Court judge, Vincent Cabrera.

This breathing space, we agreed, need not have excluded active engagement in party politics. But that the role of unions demands an ability to selectively adopt political positions in alignment with the interests of the workers they represent. The OWTU and PSA are perhaps thinking this is exactly what they are currently doing.

The Movement for Social Justice (MSJ) appeared to recognise the inherent conflicts but was unable to muster significant political support of its own and did not last long within the UNC-led “partnership” of 2010 to 2015.

Last week’s relatively weak labour demonstration, the unsolicited participation of political personalities, and the recent behaviour of unionists in and out of government nudged me in Cabrera’s direction for perspective.

Vincent Cabrera

He essentially agreed that the labour movement now confronts an epochal moment characterised by shrinking membership, factionalism, and deep loss of influential space.

Cabrera believes that too many contemporary union leaders have become preoccupied with employer-employee relationships at the expense of a wider developmental role.

There are indispensable functions such as negotiations and action on grievances, he acknowledges, but they cannot constitute the entirety of trade unionism. He believes unions must step back from the daily demands of industrial relations and undertake strategic planning, education, and broader engagement of national development.

Cabrera suggests that the labour movement must try harder to be heard at all deliberative and decision-making fora and he even advocates legislated union representation on state boards, rather than appointments dependent on partisan preferences.

His observations are particularly relevant against the background of what appears to be a continuing contraction in the influence of organised labour and, arguably, the deepest fractures in its entire modern history.

In the 1980s there were the fissures leading to the Council of Progressive Trade Unions (CPTU) versus the Labour Congress. Later came the Joint Trade Union Movement (JTUM) and the Federation of Independent Trade Unions and Non-Governmental Organisations (FITUN), with various permutations and personality shifts along the way.

Prof. John La Guerre had by then noted the long history of factionalism in labour politics in ‘The Politics of Communalism: The Agony of the Left in Trinidad and Tobago, 1930–1955.’ It needs a fresh read in 2026.

I put to Cabrera a prevailing view that unions confront the danger of irrelevance – covering less than 25% of the working population and subsumed as cosmetic sub-components of political parties.

His prescription is for an all-inclusive dialogue among trade unions to establish common positions on matters affecting both workers and the wider society.

Individual organisations, he suggests, must recognise that their own concerns cannot always take precedence over the collective interests of the movement.

Reconciliation, Cabrera argues, cannot simply mean bringing rival leaders into the same room. It must involve agreement on a shared purpose.

Success with this may well tell us whether the movement can again become a real participant in determining the country's future. Cabrera's reflections suggest that opportunity remains.

Such cohesion appeared to be on uncommon display ahead of the Cuban embargo vote last week. Twelve unions teamed up, OWTU included, to lobby for continued support for the annual UN resolution to lift the US blockade.

However, failure in this joint venture elicited nothing more than scattered groans.

Cabrera, I declare, is among the rare optimists.

 

Cuba - solidarity and silence

On the day this was published in the Trinidad and Tobago Guardian, my country shamelessly voted not to support the resolution, Antigua & Barbuda, Saint Lucia, and Dominica stayed away, while Guyana, Haiti, and Jamaica abstained.

October 28, 2026

I first visited Cuba in 1987. I was detained at the airport. Was intensely interrogated during my trip to the hotel. Wrote a poem in which I surmised: “no place for a Trini”. Was told upon my return that “Special Branch” had come to my media house asking questions.

Then, I was roundly admonished by editor, Raoul Pantin, for repeatedly referencing “Fidel” in my copy. “What happen? He is your friend?”

Mention of “Fidel’s” hours-long speech one day was part of a mini-series on the labour movement in Cuba, how the media there operated, and some reflections on Havana and the sand at Playa Guanabo.

There were people back home who insisted that all was well there. Trinidad and Tobago had defiantly established diplomatic relations in 1972, alongside Barbados, Guyana, and Jamaica. To some, this had been complete anathema. To others, an opportunity for political romanticism not to be missed.

I concluded in 1987 that none of this deserved anything short of well-informed critical review. This was clearly not a straight-forward story.

It was true that while most people welcomed the 1959 overthrow of a corrupt regime that had itself forcibly seized power in 1952, not enough was subsequently done to recognise the relationship between development and human rights. We confronted a similar challenge in Grenada between 1979 and 1983 – solidarity reinforced by sycophantic silence on important challenges.

When I returned to Cuba in 2003 as an international conference rapporteur, having ended my Prensa Latina dispatches some years prior, things appeared more relaxed. But, yes, I was called aside in the hotel lobby and asked to identify people in a photo album. Yes, I had previously turned down a request to interview the wife of a detained journalist. Yes, I linked the two developments … and hereby confess to having “seen” but not looked at those photos.

I also knew my movements around Havana had been monitored and reported back to people I had not realised cared about my camera-bearing wanderings.

Delivering conference Report 2003

What I captured through those two encounters, though, was a country far more Caribbean than it cared to acknowledge. It had never considered Caricom membership. Regular people yearned for something different, but not at the expense of what they considered to be the badge of sovereign status.

That while external pressures to become different people persisted, there was a sense of being obstinately and uniquely Cuban.

There was also the fact that while some observers were prepared to remain silent on or actively rationalise human rights abuse, state neglect of some groups, and the unequal denial of opportunity, there were many who thought things could have been different through both the reform of official behaviour and the withdrawal of sadistic actions by others.

This was not a linear case of “good” vs “bad”. There was space to lobby for internal change even as regional friends militantly opposed aggressive, maliciously harmful outside pressures such as the embargo.

In a sense, Caribbean support for successive United Nations resolutions against far-reaching sanctions against Cuba could have more incessantly relayed knowledgeable, nuanced views on travesties against these Caribbean men, women, children, and babies.

Trinidad and Tobago's annual support for a resolution on the matter now spans decades and is before the UN General Assembly again today. Such support has been bipartisan, consistent, and defiant.

If the intention is to correct internal tensions and anomalies, this cannot occur in the midst of hunger, deprivation, and the sabotaging of the means through which a country and its people may pursue more than basic survival.

The current situation represents a near worst-case scenario. There are widespread electricity failures, water shortages, and disruptions in services essential to proper health care and support for the vulnerable. Close to a million people have had to access food aid within recent months and almost 100,000 surgeries have had to be postponed.

An Inter-American Commission on Human Rights report has concluded that while there exists substantial state responsibility for the situation, there have been the undeniably harmful effects of external sanctions and restricted access to international markets.

Few better states to capture the conundrum and to declare solidarity with the affected people than those of the Caribbean.

Today’s UN vote on the “necessity of ending the economic, commercial and financial embargo imposed by the United States of America against Cuba” offers an opportunity for a much more informed update.

I cannot believe there are those who are suggesting our sentiments will be expressed any other way than we have in the past. How could we have reached here?

Windfalls and resilience

Last week, the UN Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean (ECLAC) issued its 2026 International Trade Outlook for Latin America and the Caribbean.

I believe its contents merit inclusion in ongoing formal and informal discussions and debates on the merits and demerits of the 2027 national budget statement and the specific measures to meet its goals and targets.

ECLAC reminds us of the potentially disruptive impacts of continued geopolitical conflict, disrupted shipping routes, rising freight and insurance costs, and increasingly unpredictable trade policies.

These factors, the reports suggests, can raise import costs and thereby weaken the competitiveness of exporters.

Diplomatically, ECLAC stops short of spelling out what should be obvious: sycophantic compliance with the indulgences of powerful geopolitical actors offers no insulation against the worst effects of global turmoil. Perhaps it goes without saying. But we should start saying it out loud. It is a massive elephant in the room.

Although the overall regional trade outlook is largely positive, T&T’s export prospects are considerably more modest. Mexico’s resilient export sector, among the world’s 10 largest, and Guyana’s phenomenal oil-driven progress must also be considered when assessing the overall regional picture.

ECLAC's 2026 Report

Yes, the forecast for T&T points to a 2% expansion in exports as opposed to contraction, but this country is expected to lag behind the others expecting an increase in total export value of up to 20%. Again, factor in the main anomalies.

Much of this increase reflects both higher prices and expanding volumes. The T&T Manufacturers Association (TTMA) has encouragingly noted that for the first half of this year, there was an 11.6% expansion in non-energy manufacturing exports.

Regional services exports are meanwhile forecast to grow by 11%, with transport and travel leading the way.

Our central economic thrust appears to be taking advantage of improved purchasing power from favourable hydrocarbon prices, increased production after a 45% contraction over the past 12 years, and longer-term opportunities in services. But there is a cautionary note here: the projected natural gas price of US$5 per million British thermal units (MMBtu) deserves critical scrutiny.

But both natural gas prices and production are heavily reliant on numerous factors outside our direct control. Expanded benefits from the services sector in turn rely heavily on foreign direct investment, rigorous programmes of skills development, and coordinated public policy that gets priorities right.

ECLAC identifies T&T among the economies expected to record improvements, largely because of higher hydrocarbon and commodity prices. This can bring improved purchasing power, and a greater capacity to finance imports with export earnings. But this may at the same time diminish enthusiasm for domestic production of consumables.

Correspondingly, if the forecasts for higher energy prices hold, our Caricom neighbours will face threats to their net trade gains. Such a challenge will not easily disappear from our neighbourhood fence.

The ECLAC report argues that T&T should employ gains from favourable energy prices and enhanced production to expand opportunities in new and existing areas.

I believe there is a very strong case for harnessing the creative sector but there are other important possibilities, as identified by ECLAC. These include business, professional, financial, information technology, and research and development services. There are people also making the case for both traditional and medical tourism.

Additionally, external delivery of digital services is an area due for far more competent exploitation.

Manual backends with digital facades are not what is meant by modern deployment of digital services. Neither the state nor private sectors seem to understand this.

ECLAC has nevertheless noted such potential in T&T with emphasis on engineering, software, and design and data management. There are people here who know about such things. They should be found and put to work.

Significantly, ECLAC puts several risks on the table for consideration. The first is energy-price volatility and chronic fiscal dependence on the sector. The second is that even if price volatility works to our benefit, weak production can limit revenue gains. Then there is the question of foreign-exchange shortages that can constrain attempts at diversification.

Finally, there is no guarantee that current global conflicts will not alleviate the chance of shipping disruptions and trade fragmentation.

These are some important reality checks that should dominate the public discourse.

Yes, it is important to consider the revenue gains from energy production and prices. The true test would be derived from an ability to employ such earnings to build an economy better equipped to withstand the downturns. That’s the test of a successful budget.

Culture as economic asset

It’s hugely perilous to submit a budget-related newspaper column the very evening of the presentation of the annual package of survival measures. The national budget was presented on Monday October 12. My submission to the T&T Guardian was expected that very day.

In T&T, though, one thing you can rely on is a curious contradiction: a country capable of producing world-class creative work remains focused almost entirely on exhaustible and often unreliable assets. The value of these resources, moreover, depends heavily on external factors beyond our control.

Such irony is not unique to any single political administration. The T&T Chamber of Industry and Commerce addresses the gap under its “Orange Economy” banner.

Meanwhile, generations of world-class musicians, mas designers, visual artists, dancers, dramatists, writers, and filmmakers continue to be treated as though their principal value lies solely on tourist entertainment, “cultural preservation”, keeping young people out of trouble, or occasional international acclaim.

The clichéd truism of “culture as a unifying force that defines our national identity” is insufficient to acknowledge economic value. It’s like how the need to “harness” potential, without specific evaluation of what can be useful to achieve this, can ring hollow without mention of tangible funding and performance indicators.

The problem has never been a shortage of talent, unifying potential, enterprise, or productivity. We are looking at this during a week in which final tributes are being paid to the late, great Mighty Sparrow.

All of this is occurring in the middle of an arguably unprecedented explosion of creative expression in this country. This is particularly so among the “lost generation”  who are being openly targeted for “buss tail” punishment and age discrimination – as opposed to protection - through law and official policy.

The problem may well be that those responsible for tailoring the basic frameworks for development of economic options are unaware of what is actually transpiring. I strongly suspect so.

I roam the creative space quite a lot and even participate. But I don’t regularly see the decisionmakers where I go.

There have been numerous art exhibitions, dance recitals, operatic performances, calypso shows, jazz and pop concerts, spoken word events, and literary expositions.

The people who crafted the minister’s speech – both in its economic and political dimensions – need to prove to some of us that they have been around to witness what is happening. If not, there can be no claim of enlightened evaluation.

Next weekend also marks the launch of Panorama 2027. That’s a whole different story. This space has been overly employed to stress the latent economic value of the national instrument – not only as a source of music, but as a renewable resource involving growing numbers of young and old people – including the “lost generation.”

Shell Invaders Youth Steel Orchestra - Winners 2026

So, this week, I am not going too far down that road except to say that progressive state responsibility for growing creative industries can never be considered to be mere acts of “charity.” Especially by people who are never around to witness what has happened or is happening in that sector alone.

Mention of skills-development for a culturally important industry such as steelpan is important. However, the scope of what was identified on Monday does not capture the broader steelpan ecosystem of performance, composition, arranging, instrument design, festivals, recording, distribution, and international promotion.

With diversification being an enduring, recurring national aspiration, the question is whether the creative sector will be treated as a collection of deserving cultural interests or as an interconnected economic system capable of generating employment, exports, investment, and innovation.

There is some evidence that the opportunity is substantial. A January 2023 CDB study - The Contribution of Copyright-Based Industries to the Economy of Trinidad and Tobago - estimated that the creative industries accounted for 5.5 per cent of GDP in 2016.

This was equivalent to approximately TT$8.3 billion in value added. This marked an increase in estimated contribution from 4.8 per cent of GDP in 2011. The study also estimated that copyright-based industries accounted for 20,113 jobs in 2016 and generated a positive overall trade balance of TT$113 million.

These are historical estimates covering a broad range of “copyright-based” industries, not a current valuation of the entire creative economy. So, don’t take this away as unquestioning fact. The figures however provide evidence of economic activity that deserves far closer attention.

The report's significance extends beyond its numbers. It identifies the potential for investment in copyright-based production to strengthen productivity, expand foreign currency inflows, and help diversify a near monocultural economy.

Its recommendations include financing arrangements, incentives, improved copyright enforcement, institutional strengthening, and investment in skills.

These are not simply “cultural policy” concerns. They are economic development requirements. Even if we acknowledge gaps in the 2023 analysis, where are these broad sentiments in Budget 2027? When have they ever been there?

Caribbean solidarity and Haiti

The world has developed the habit of leaving Haiti to disappear from international conversations between grand, headline-grabbing events.

Recent rhetoric out of the halls of the UN, OAS, and Caricom suggests an intention to resist such an inclination. But we have been here before … numerous times.

Haiti, we all must learn, is more than a photo-op.

Understandably, this side of the insular Caricom arc simultaneously confronts intractable, recurring issues related to substandard governance, economic fragility, and the erosion of human rights as a vital socio-political pillar.

This side of the archipelago, we have long lost leadership status on matters of such wider interest – however longingly they remain at our door awaiting attention. We should have learned from the Venezuelan experience.

The temptation to forget Haiti has been vastly overwhelming. So, I return to this subject despite the current domestic lure of revenge mistaken for justice, condemnation of a generation, and coercion being considered a first option in pursuit of behaviour change.

Even as Haiti was busy beating the Dominican Republic 4-1 at the CONCACAF Nations League game last Thursday in Santo Domingo - where mass Haitian migrant expulsions have been taking place - the northern town of Gros-Morne, across the border, remained in grief from a murderous gang attack only days earlier.

The September 28 incursion left 11 people dead, many injured, and even more fleeing. This proves, with devastating clarity, that Port-au-Prince is not the only staging point for slaughter.

And, yes, World Tourism Day was commemorated only the day before in Pétion-Ville, a sub-urb just south of Port-au-Prince. Haiti is that kind of place. Journalist Phares Jerome’s compelling article in Le Nouvelliste explained.

Visiting the CARICOM troops in Cap-Haitien (1994)

It is fair to argue, however, that international commitments need to translate into protection more quickly and effectively. Several external warnings have been sounded. Amnesty International is clear that the spreading violence does not portend well for planned December elections.

The dreaded (as we heard at the UNGA from the US) International Organization for Migration (IOM) has reported that the Gros-Morne attack displaced approximately 5,254 people within days.

These are the developments that remind us that we should not permit Haiti to slip off the table of Caribbean deliberations – however remote some of us consider the collateral effects.

It is not that absolutely nothing is being considered or done. As advocated by the Caricom Eminent Persons Group (EPG) and others, the United Nations Security Council has renewed the mandate of an indispensable Gang Suppression Force (GSF).

The OAS recently mounted a high-level mission and the EPG has itself visited Haiti several times and engaged numerous stakeholders.

OAS Secretary-General, Albert Ramdin, has identified security and elections as Haiti's two urgent and interconnected priorities. A recent OAS reported has also warned that international assistance must produce concrete and visible results and that Haitian institutions, where they remain viable, must reside at the centre of the response.

The EPG has found common cause on this subject. The team comprising former Saint Lucia Prime Minister Kenny Anthony, former Jamaica Prime Minister Bruce Golding and former Bahamas Prime Minister Perry Christie has sounded loud and clear alarms.

December 13 elections remain tentative in the face of  insecurity, kidnappings, and territories beyond state control. Voter registration is sluggish. Journalist Frantz Duval has reported that as of October 2, the list of registered electors stood at just 737,478.

Miami Herald’s Jacqueline Charles has estimated the entire voting population to be in the vicinity of 6 million.

The electoral timetable remains an important potential milestone. It was born out of high hopes. But elections are never just another date on a calendar.

An empty or under-populated ballot box means nothing. Renewing the GSF mandate does not by itself protect the Haitian population.

For Caricom, therefore, Haiti is not simply another item on a crowded regional agenda. It is a test of whether Caribbean regionalism can translate solidarity into sustained action when one of its own members is in profound distress.

Back in 1995, upon the return of Jean-Bertrand Aristide to office in October 1994 (and when I first visited), the late Mighty Sparrow was hopeful: “Come along with me/Life will be happy,/It will be ecstasy/If you come with me down to Haiti … Great expectancy, come in Haiti/It's democracy now in my country” he sang in ‘Democracy in Haiti (Liberté).’

That did not turn out to be the case and, even so, it would have been foolish to believe none of this was any of our business. Sparrow called Haiti “my country”!

Our UN photo album

The General Debate (GD) of the 81st session of the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA 81) ended Monday and did not always disappoint when it came to the efficient delivery of photo-ops, headlines, soundbites, and high drama.

Correspondingly, there must have been a separate cargo flight to transport signed, soon-to-be-forgotten memoranda of understanding, agreements, and other documents that made it through the prolific press release mill back to home territories, including ours.

Don’t get me wrong, bilateral diplomacy matters – however ad hoc, opportunistic, or gratuitously amplified via public communication channels. The term “speed-dating” has been used more than once to describe such interactions.

A leader attending a high-profile meeting, energetically delivering a speech or stomping in and out of the hall may generate media coverage. But a 15-minute private exchange and a handshake in a corridor has the potential to meaningfully change things. So, I am not dismissing its possible importance.

If, for example, the Persad-Bissessar/ Rodríguez speed date resulted in genuine infatuation and open declarations of love, that is not an easily dismissible outcome, however temporal. Click!

In fact, that meeting lived up to and even exceeded its billing as a decisive, made-for-media encounter minus mention of the contentious “res non grata” (to coin my own idiom employing the Latin ‘res’ for “thing”) Venezuela-plus-Essequibo brooch worn by Rodríguez).

What is important now is what gets consummated at the second and third and fourth dates.

Last week I drew attention to the fact that UNGA 81 included several “High-Level” meetings on what, in this neck of the woods, must be considered of great priority – even more than main stage grandiloquence and posturing.

Second Floor Flag Hall (United Nations)

From the reports, T&T was present for some of these; however unremarkable our contributions. Saint Lucia, currently holding the Caricom chair, was listed to address collective regional concerns at the High-Level Meeting on Climate Action and the Just Transition last Wednesday.

Barbados represented the Climate Vulnerable Forum (CVF) – a group of developing countries deemed to be highly vulnerable to climate change. Jamaica and St Vincent and the Grenadines were also there in their own right and addressed the meeting.

On the margins that day, with climate concerns in mind, the Pacific Islands Forum (PIF) and Caricom “formalised their partnership through a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU).” Click!

The fact is UNGA 81 was, outside of the main hall, the setting for substantive conversations on issues that go directly to our collective and individual interests - climate finance, adaptation, energy transition, resilience, information integrity and, critically, sea-level rise.

For T&T, these are not obscure UN issues or needless burdens founded on demonic assertions of a climate crisis. They involve issues of sovereignty, maritime space, coastal communities, infrastructure, fisheries, tourism, water security, and development finance.

I may have missed it but have not received anything to suggest that consideration of such issues was newsworthy enough to make it through our official communication infrastructure or had in fact been rigorously explored.

The climate-finance discussions, for example, got down to nitty-gritty examination of lingering questions regarding the cost of capital to address low carbon transition issues, the expansion of concessional finance, debt, and the conversion of national adaptation plans into financeable programmes.

I am aware we were present at the High-Level Meeting on Sea-Level Rise and raised some key points about full capitalisation of the Loss and Damage Fund. But where were the photos? The press releases?

Perhaps the PM’s comment on the matter was not meant to be overshadowed when she declared at the GD: “Trinidad and Tobago brings a distinctive perspective as we understand that climate resilience, energy security, affordability and economic development must advance together.”

At COP30 in Belém last November, T&T was also among those calling for predictable, accessible, and adequate climate finance to bridge the gap between ambition and implementation. Click!

Yet, as currently applies, citizens should not have to reconstruct the substance of our international engagement last week from UN transcripts and other obscure documents.

Admittedly, there was little local journalism on this, and neither the propagandists nor usual trolls are typically interested in such boring details.

Even so, a photograph tells us who met whom. A signing ceremony tells us that something was signed. But serious public diplomacy should also tell citizens what was negotiated, what was sought, what was committed, what was obtained and what happens next.