Climate truth and transparency

Here’s hoping that this country will engage the COP30 process - being hosted this year in Belem, Brazil in November - as vigorously as we (mostly) have in previous years. 

There however appears to be advocacy against this in some quarters, particularly where long-established climate science is currently encountering tacitly coercive geo-political demands, anti-science, and sheer ignorance. 

Such postures have in their sights commitments to Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs) related to the slowing of global climate change and mitigation of its effects, and which are to form part of the Belem reporting agenda. 

NDCs are the product of the so-called, and politically troublesome, Paris Agreement adopted at COP21 in 2015. These undertakings help define the commitment of individual countries through “domestic mitigation measures” to address emissions and management of their potential impacts in individual states. 

There is the accompanying principle of “common and differentiated responsibilities” which makes distinctions between the obligations and capabilities of individual countries. There really is no carte blanche application of responsibilities.

 

Additionally, there is a requirement, within the Paris Agreement, to communicate the proposed actions to national populations. I am coming back to this. 

But first, it’s noteworthy that several countries, including T&T and others in the region, and within the Small Island Developing States (SIDS) grouping (which includes low-lying coastal regions) – notably Guyana – have already insisted that developmental priorities, seemingly in breach of general NDC commitments, may eventually create circumstances conducive to achievement of climate management goals. 

So, there is already an understanding by some countries, including T&T, that there are imperatives that cannot be skipped at the moment. It has become not a truly big deal to state this up front. There has been little timidity on this question. Witness Guyana’s open explanations and some of our own past political pronouncements. 

There is a lengthy narrative associated with this the genuinely interested can explore. It is nothing new and nothing fatal to the intent of the overall process. There is, meanwhile, little genuine debate, among a majority of respected scientists, over the fact of climate change and its causative factors. So, climate denial as a starting point is dismissible. 

Of course, there is also knowledgeable scepticism regarding the 1.5% target to take the world back to pre-industrial emission levels. But such a position does not undermine the essential thesis that much of what is being witnessed as climate events, results from human activity, is intensifying, and there are societal behaviours that can make a change.

 

So, back to the important communication dimension of NDC obligations. If anything, it serves as a complementary mechanism regarding the overall transparency of official action on matters way beyond the climate imperatives. This is why they have attracted the attention of everybody from educators to journalists to good governance advocates. 

There is already a directly stated national commitment through our Freedom of Information Act (however deficient and poorly implemented) and in our support as a nation for a variety of international instruments. 

These include the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). SDG 16:10, for instance, calls on governments to “ensure public access to information and protect fundamental freedoms, in accordance with national legislation and international agreements.” 

This is not specifically climate related, but there is wholesome relevance. There is no doubt that opacity in the conduct of public business presents us with one of the more significant obstacles to public awareness of and participation in the development process … including our experience with climate change. 

Where there is ill-informed state posturing, average, everyday people need to have at their command a cache of high-quality information to address this shortcoming. For instance, the notion of “environmental protection” finds worthwhile space when addressing the climate question but is not a central issue when considering national contributions to global emissions – which in the case of most SIDS are negligible and not significantly influential. 

What is even more pertinent and urgent is the manner in which the phenomenon, and approaches to address it, have had uneven impacts across developmental divides. The question of climate justice enters the discussion at this stage. 

Just as important is consideration of other components of the climate challenge related to issues of transparency and accountability. 

T&T’s tardiness with signing on to and implementing the 2018 Escazú Agreement, which focuses on a public right to access environmental information and to participate in environmental decision-making, deserves attention in this regard. 

The climate change/crisis challenge ought to be motivating much wider deliberations in the national communication eco-system – many of which may not initially resonate as climate related. But there is value in engaging the core issues of good governance and the manner in which civil society and individuals face up to the challenges of the modern era.

Revisiting Cheddi Jagan in 2025

If you were on the Caribbean beat as a journalist in the late 1980s/early 1990s, you would have recognised the late Guyanese leader, Dr Cheddi Jagan, as one of the more determined voices for a new global developmental paradigm, with this part of the world as a key focal point.

Prior to his ascent to office in 1992 – (again) since the story of Guyana 1961 is another remarkable issue – he was among the more ubiquitous Caribbean politicians; appearing almost anywhere there was a platform to air his concern that the developing world had not been receiving its fair share of global assets.

That much of it was dismissively put down to dated, dogged “socialism” belied key messages linked to notions of “social justice” as a phenomenon common to both sovereign countries within their own borders, and among members of the international community.

Those who had challenged the relevance of Jagan’s “New Global Human Order” back then were to quietly consume their words and negative thoughts by the time the UN system convened the First Copenhagen Summit on Social Development in 1995.

Colleague Caribbean journalists may also recall the year before, in Miami, at the First Summit of the Americas, News Centre tensions when someone from a US television network conducting business in an adjoining suite, interrupted a Jagan press conference (on this very issue) and rudely called for silence while the Guyanese leader was at the head table.

The spontaneous eruption of Caribbean media colleagues confirmed the fact that Dr Jagan - now a sitting President - through familiarity or sheer respect, had views considered to be worth more than passing attention. At that moment, his mission became lived, in-your-face reality.

Dr Cheddi Jagan

Some considered his advocacy in this area as being seminal in the formulation of a common Caribbean agenda in time for the Copenhagen Summit. In 2000, following Jagan’s death in 1997, a resolution entitled: “The Role of the United Nations in Promotion of a New Global Human Order” was tabled by Guyana before the United Nations General Assembly and adopted by consensus.

Thirty years after Copenhagen and 25 years since the Guyana resolution, the Second World Summit on Social Development is due for November 4 to 6 in Qatar.

An ILO study published in advance of the event strikes eerily reminiscent chords. Entitled: “The State of Social Justice: A Work in Progress”, the study dissects progress with some of the key aspirations identified in Copenhagen.

While acknowledging a world that “is wealthier, healthier and better educated than in 1995” there is also a concession that the benefits of such gains “have not been evenly shared, and progress in reducing inequality has stalled.”

In a sense, such an observation is fully in keeping with a view expressed by Dr Jagan all these years ago that mere attention to statistical indicators is insufficient to come to terms with realities on the ground.

At that time, there had been uneven attention in the Caribbean to the core issues. T&T was riding relatively high as a Caribbean energy superpower, while Guyana was in the throes of an overwhelming debt burden and heavily reliant on regional and other external support.

The proposed recalibration of regional and international priorities weighed more heavily on some and almost not at all on others. We, in T&T, appeared to be sitting pretty.

Jamaica was coming to terms with banking collapses and rising social disquiet. Barbados was confronting a balance of payments crisis and swallowing IMF remedies. Other neighbours were transitioning to situations of greater stability while others wobbled.

Dominica had been hit hard by Hurricane Luis in 1995, and extreme weather events everywhere were fast becoming the norm rather than the exception.

Today, the ILO observations can be levied on us right here in T&T. There is precious little space between current, growing socio-economic deprivation and past aspirations once deemed by us to be distant and near irrelevant.

Slowed economic growth, rising unemployment, a foreign earnings crisis, unstable social support resources, rising informality in the labour market, and general economic malaise all appear emergent.

Yes, there are worst-case scenarios to contemplate, but there is no law of history to establish complete invulnerability.

For reasons such as these, Qatar 2025 seems just as urgent for us in T&T as it was for Guyana et al in 1995. Jagan’s New Global Human Order confronts us once again. This time from a far more familiar vantage point.

 

Caricom stakes in Haiti

However urgent, tragic, and compelling, the deepening crisis in Haiti is unlikely to occupy considerable topline space at the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) which opened yesterday.

In fact, the agenda is so tightly packed that by the time the General Debate is over, global news agendas would have flooded us with innumerable, legitimate priorities covering unprecedented, vast terrain.

These include the Gaza genocide (however framed by discussants), related recognition of Palestinian statehood, wars involving Ukraine and Sudan, US actions regarding Venezuela, and general concern for the future of the UN itself after 80 years.

There is also the climate crisis, and our global engagement in shaping a collective Caribbean development greater than the sum of individual growth paths.

These prevailing and emergent issues all have direct relevance to our tiny Caribbean states. But there are others we dare not leave unattended - the question of Haiti included.

It is hoped, for instance, that UNGA contributions by Caricom Member States, in particular, will inform UN Security Council (UNSC) deliberations to follow, during which a future approach to the Haitian crisis will hopefully find consensus.

On Sunday, the UN Secretary General António Guterres, met with President of the Caricom-conceived Transitional Presidential Council (TPC) of Haiti, Anthony Franck Laurent Saint-Cyr.

They concluded that “urgent international action is needed to help restore security, including efforts to address gang violence, create conditions for the holding of credible, inclusive and participatory elections and mobilise greater humanitarian assistance.”

On Monday, Caricom led an international roundtable discussion on the margins of the UNGA on “Making the Case for Haiti.”

Both the US and Panama have meanwhile developed a UNSC resolution proposing the convening of a “Gang Suppression Force” comprising up to 5,500 personnel. It also calls for a UN support office providing logistical and operational assistance.

The backdrop to this is the October 2 expiration of the mandate of a Multinational Security Mission (MSS) established in 2023 and employs Kenyan troops. This occurred with 1,000 of a promised 2,500 troops – reduced because of funding deficits. Essential tools, such as helicopters, for instance, have also been absent.

In fact, the success of much of what is being proposed via the UNSC and proposed actions identified by the Organisation of American States (OAS) is highly contingent on financial investments to assure at least the basic needs of Haitian renewal.

The consequences of ongoing failure have been grave. Violent gangs have become more, rather than less, entrenched in key areas including the capital, Port-au-Prince. It has also not helped that the TPC has been a highly challenging mechanism.

Remarkably, there remains a view by some Haitian politicians that elections, if conducted in phases in some areas, can happen prior to the TPC’s agreed February 7, 2026, dissolution. The initial projection was for November elections. We shall see.

Caricom’s Eminent Persons Group (EPG) comprising former prime ministers Dr Kenny Anthony of Saint Lucia, Bruce Golding of Jamaica, and Perry Christie of The Bahamas, have not been sufficiently credited with engaging this intractable challenge.

The problem is that the two principal areas of immediate concern - violence and politics – persist alongside growing humanitarian crises. There is hunger, displacement, and a general sense of hopelessness in numerous quarters.

Around 90% of Port-au-Prince is currently under gang control; more than 5,600 people have been killed and there are over 1.3 million displaced person, 25% of whom are children.

Additionally. Close to five million Haitians face “acute food insecurity,” 60% lack clean water, and fewer than 25% of health facilities in critical areas function.

So, even if the violence subsides and there are elections - limited or not – there will remain issues of systemic deprivation with which the country would need to contend.

The OAS Roadmap offers a coherent, comprehensive prescription – albeit one contingent on heavy financial support. There are countries whose representatives will, even if fleetingly, raise the issue of Haiti over the coming days at the UNGA. They will have to put their money where their mouths have ventured.

As for us in T&T and the rest of the Caribbean, we need to more urgently consider the Haitian crisis to be a part of our own reality. In T&T we ignored the shenanigans of our troublesome neighbour to our west until its problems became ours. Our recent diplomatic missteps are clearly reflective of a misinformed, underdeveloped understanding of the issues and our place in all of this.

In fraternal states such as The Bahamas and Jamaica, there will be a fear that complacency on the part of the rest of us on the question of Haiti, can and will be at our collective peril.

Our performance at the UNGA ought to signal such a reality.

Integration and the Caricom four

Two weeks from now (October 1), what is widely described as the “full free movement”, on a reciprocal basis, of Caricom nationals from Barbados, Belize, Dominica, and Saint Vincent and the Grenadines (SVG) will be in place.

The provision is described in the communiqué emerging from the 49^th Heads of Government Conference hosted in Jamaica last July. A reminder of this was sent to the press on Monday.

The Summit statement describes what is now expected from these countries under the relatively new Caricom Protocol on Enhanced Cooperation - the application of which, incidentally and in the words of the communiqué, requires authorisation by the full body.

Under this measure, Caricom heads “can allow groups of at least three Member States to seek to advance integration among themselves where the Conference (of Heads) agrees that the targeted objectives cannot be attained within a reasonable period by the Community as a whole.”

These four countries will thus now, and among themselves, “grant their nationals the right to enter, leave and re-enter, move freely, reside, work and remain indefinitely in the receiving Member State without the need for a work or residency permit.

“Their nationals will also be able to access emergency and primary health care, and public primary and secondary education, within the means of the receiving Member State.”

This suggests that the remaining eight CSME countries will, for the moment, reside outside the embrace of this measure and continue to benefit solely from the current, prescribed categories of “skilled national” provisions.

It had always been the stated aspiration that all of us would have travelled the full route. This is minus The Bahamas, Haiti, and Montserrat – all for different reasons.

Yet, close followers always knew that this active exploration of possibilities would have presented peculiar challenges to some countries in which unfettered political and wider public resolve had never really been enthusiastically exhibited, especially over recent years. T&T has been one of these.

Given that public opinion has been routinely subject to political ambivalence on this question, there exists a situation in which awareness of benefits and challenges remains in chronic deficit.

It has not helped that neither the Caricom Secretariat nor our respective governments have viewed statistics and data as absolutely necessary to guide both public policy and opinion.

For example, there is a view in T&T (whenever the question arises about the use value of Caricom) that this country is subject to net financial and human resource losses (and not gains) when it comes to the operation of the Single Market – however flawed and frequently misunderstood.

Though net estimates of intra-regional migrant flows on account of Single Market provisions are incomprehensively difficult to harvest (I cannot remember the last update from the Secretariat or from T&T), there is far less vagueness on the balance of trade surplus (TT$8.5 billion in 2022), together with the work of 27 institutions of Caricom.

The Caricom Private Sector Organisation (CPSO) has pledged research and advocacy resources on the issues of trade and free movement. But it is the responsibility of individual states to get their act together on the question of timely, reliable data.

The ”Caricom is a waste of time” argument is a long-established function of unforgiveable ignorance, and the basis for an argument that there is more to be gained than lost through disengagement and recalibrated loyalties.

Even so, this is typically characterised by cherry-picking retention of indispensable institutional relationships in the areas of law, business, education, health, food, and other key areas of development. This is important as it is now abundantly clear that nobody else will see about these things on our behalf.

Former Caricom Assistant Secretary-General Trade and Economic Integration, Joseph Cox (now leading the Caribbean Business Review) recently engaged Caricom Deputy Secretary-General Dr Armstrong Alexis in an enlightening conversation on these and other matters.

The encounter generated the interest to stimulate today’s missive on this page. But it also raised questions regarding Caricom’s “evolving mandate” (Alexis’ formulation) and an unravelling of the regional tapestry from the untidy underside.

In the process, political investment in excavating real value from limited, and in some cases diminishing, national wealth appears in decline. Four from among us have chosen to dig deeper. Who’s next? We already, disappointingly, know who won’t be.

 

Restless region, shifting votes

The 2025 Caribbean electoral season has revealed a restless political temperament across the region, along with important questions about whether our systems truly serve democratic goals.

It has also highlighted just how diverse our electoral frameworks are - ranging from first-past-the-post contests to various forms of proportional representation, all within a shared culture of fierce but rules-bound competition.

These differences invite a wider regional discussion on governance. Suriname, for example, recently abandoned its “district” system of proportional representation in favour of a single, national constituency – in my view, removing a pathway through which localised issues may reach the national stage.

I acknowledge there are Surinamese experts prepared to quite logically challenge this view. I was schooled by resident experts on its inherent weaknesses. But I still hold there is value in it, as evidenced in the possibilities offered in Guyana.

Guyana operates a hybrid form of PR that ensures regional representation: of its 65 parliamentary seats, 25 regional seats are allocated using the Hare quota system.

Both cases underline the need to discuss, at the regional level, how our electoral designs shape real representation. In T&T, this conversation arises mainly when people lose elections and suspect there is a way they could have stood a better chance.

Equally important, though, is the issue of voter turnout. This year, so far, participation levels have ranged from the mid-70s to below 40 percent, with several observers pointing to rising “voter apathy”, especially among young people.

While imperfect registration lists complicate the calculations, the broader concern remains: too many citizens are staying away from the polls.

Here’s a quick scan of how the year unfolded in both full and associate Caribbean Community (Caricom) member states:

Turks and Caicos (Feb 7): Constitutional changes were in place for the vote, but the outcome was unchanged. The Progressive National Party (PNP) held power with nearly 74% turnout.

Anguilla (Feb 26): Cora Richardson-Hodge’s Anguilla United Front (AUF) ousted the incumbent Anguilla Progressive Movement (APM), with turnout at 69%.

Belize (Mar 12): John Briceño’s People’s United Party (PUP) returned comfortably with 26 seats in the 36-member House, while a divided United Democratic Party (UDP) won only five between its two factions. Turnout was close to 65%.

Trinidad & Tobago (Apr 28): Kamla Persad-Bissessar’s United National Congress (UNC), and the Tobago People’s Party (TPP), overturned a narrow People’s National Movement (PNM) majority. Turnout stood just below 54%, and the new House is now split 26 (UNC), 13 (PNM), and 2 (TPP).

Suriname (May 25): Jennifer Geerlings-Simons’ National Democratic Party (NDP) built coalition support for a new government. More than 69% of voters participated.

Guyana (Sep 1): In a historic shift, the People’s National Congress (PNC), anchor of the APNU coalition, slipped to third place behind the new We Invest in Nationhood (WIN) – the People’s Progressive Party (PPP) winning a second consecutive term under President Irfaan Ali. Turnout however fell to about 52%, down from over 70% in 2020.

Jamaica (Sep 3): The Jamaica Labour Party (JLP) retained office but lost ground, sliding from its 49-14 advantage in 2020 to 38-35. The People’s National Party (PNP), under Mark Golding, surged, but turnout dropped to under 40% - the lowest in the region this year.

Still ahead are elections in St Vincent and the Grenadines, likely before year’s end. Prime Minister Ralph Gonsalves’ Unity Labour Party (ULP), holding nine of 15 seats, will seek a sixth straight victory against Godwin Friday’s New Democratic Party (NDP).

Saint Lucia, where the ruling Saint Lucia Labour Party (SLP) trounced the United Workers Party (UWP) 13-2 in 2021, is also gearing up for its next poll. Don’t be surprised if the year does not end without this contest.

Taken together, these recalibrations reflect a region in motion - sometimes favouring incumbents, sometimes rejecting them, but always revealing the dynamism of Caribbean politics. However, the troubling variations in voter turnout suggest that large segments of our populations feel disconnected from the process. There are also questions to be answered concerning the representative systems at play.

For this reason, it might be time to revisit the now-defunct Assembly of Caribbean Community Parliamentarians (ACCP). Such a bi-partisan forum could engage dialogue on electoral systems, representation, and ways to re-engage citizens who currently feel left behind.

For guidance, witness the work of the multipartite OECS Assembly which met in St Vincent in June for the seventh time since it first convened in 2012.

The Caribbean will never adopt a single electoral model, but we share the challenge of strengthening democracy while ensuring that the widest possible range of voices is heard. This year’s restless voting patterns should remind us that democracy cannot be taken for granted - and that reform must be part of a collective conversation.

A Desk for Daniela

Last Sunday marked the last official day of a UNHCR (The UN Refugee Agency) physical, administrative presence in T&T.

It was not unexpected that a focused, financial squeeze on multilateral, global inter-governmental agencies would have followed the kind of international talk and action we have been witnessing over the years, but now culminating in active, official policy.

So, yes, “funding constraints” have become a recurring issue within the UN system and its long arms in key developmental areas that countries, such as ours in the Caribbean, have benefited from across the full range of technical, financial, and policy support.

In many countries, there has been openly expressed regret and accompanying tragic outcomes. In other instances, governments have tacitly celebrated the gradual retreat of ubiquitous, institutional reminders of principles based on global understanding of the numerous challenges the planet faces.

These include guidance and technical assistance in delivery of health, education, cultural, and human rights aspirations … among others. In this instance, migrant policy has taken a direct hit despite universally accepted values and recommended practices guided by convention, international law, and in some instances domestic legislation.

This is occurring at a time when, perhaps more than ever before in modern history, there need to be orderly administrative regimes and environments committed to minimising harm. There is a degree of recklessness about human welfare and life most of us have never encountered before.

It has not mattered to too many what international humanitarian and migrant law dictate. In some cases, there is a deliberate flouting of accepted principles rooted in well-respected human rights principles.

The absence of national concern in T&T by the collective legal profession, politicians of all shades, colleague journalists, human rights activists, and civil society organisations has been sadly stark, with only a few notable exceptions.

All of this to say that yet another school year is being launched in less than a week from now and close to 1,500 children born here – and another 4,500 or so of other statuses - will be deliberately denied what we boastfully describe as our system of universal primary education.

The figures have been skewed by official and informal guesstimates based entirely on degrees of knowledge, empathy, and understanding. Politicians and commentators have provided guidance along a spectrum of 100,000 to 200,000 to “plenty” to “too many.”

I am no longer exercising patience on this subject. There are well-informed people who will tell you that had we been serious, the required human and infrastructural and administrative resources would have been available to make schooling of migrant children a non-issue at this time.

Today, it is being met by ole talk related to wider “migration policy” based on a “minifesto” promise on “the integration of Venezuelan migrants.”

Yet, this is a subject that has, to some extent, defied political complexion when it comes to public expression of diagnosis and treatment. Pay attention to the partisan trolls and the hate speech being produced … without censure from either their own principals or people who should know better.

The best news reporting guidelines discourage employment of the term “illegal immigrants”, for example, over the tendency of language to dehumanise or degrade the value of people. It’s there in use of the word “Venee”, comparison with animals and the inanimate, and loose association with dishonourable professions.

There is also a real danger, at this time of threatened regime change 11 kilometres from here, that the hate mongers will be incapable of making a distinction between Venezuela, the country, and objectified Venezuelans.

It has happened to us in the past. Read Sam Selvon and George Lamming regarding migrant Caribbean people in the UK and make an effort to get Claude McKay and Paule Marshall on the US experience.

For the umpteenth time last May I reminded people that of the 37,906 refugees and asylum-seekers registered by the UNHCR in T&T, more than 86% are from Venezuela - the other 14% from over 38 additional countries.

These “pests” and “invasive species”, as described in current, unbridled hate speech, include schooled and tragically unschooled children entitled to “birthright citizenship” (jus soli). “Daniela” – now 7 and being “home schooled” by a non-native English-speaking mother and a father too busy making ends meet from manicuring yards – is among the numbers.

I remind you. We have not come to this overnight. This shameful slur on our humanity.  Daniela awaits her desk at school. Some of us are standing in the way.

 

Where are ‘we’?

The 56th Caribbean Broadcasting Union (CBU) Annual General Assembly rolled seamlessly into the XV edition of CARIFESTA in Barbados last week. The WhatsApp group created for CBU delegates morphed into a prolific platform for CARIFESTA advisories and impressions.

Some of us stayed on to capture early glimpses of the regional spectacle, while others caught the action online.

This sounds like no big thing, right? Yes, because it happens all the time. Those who have been following the work of the Association of Caribbean MediaWorkers (ACM) – now headquartered in Guyana - and Media Institute of the Caribbean (MIC) – based in Jamaica – should be aware that for most media folks the Caribbean paradigm flows naturally from the work we do.

As an autonomous project of the MIC, the Caribbean Investigative Journalism Network (CIJN) has been on the CBU winners’ roll over the past few years. Our teams span the region and work together as a single unit.

CIJN awardees at CBU XV

This is not just about showing off – which is okay by me – but making a point about the expression of Caribbean regional cohesion through means outside of the formal institutional arrangements expressed through Caricom and others.

So, after posting some photos from the CARIFESTA parade of nations on social media, a friend and colleague asked me: “Wey we?” – meaning she had not seen any shots representative of her country’s contingent. “We are in all the shots,” was my cryptic response … in the hope she’d know what I meant by that. A laughing emoji followed.

However, sceptically invoking the question of “we” - after so many years of collective effort, triumphs, and shortcomings - does not automatically represent failure, even as there is promotion of a notion of collective will and responsibility.

I was, within hours of that exchange, to argue during an online discussion on human rights, constitutions and elections in Guyana, Suriname, and Trinidad and Tobago that formulations of integration are often devoid of a sense of cultural sensitivity. This includes interpretations and versions of the philosophical menus on offer.

When I spoke of fish broth, cowheel soup, pelau and cook up – Surinamese public intellectual/human rights activist Sharda Ganga reminded us that we are still able to identify the discrete ingredients of cook up (and all the other dishes, I quietly mused).

“Where in all this are WE?”, in this context, is thus not an entirely unreasonable question – the three countries under review (Guyana, Trinidad and Tobago, and Suriname) being the broader subject, but CBU and CARIFESTA and Caricom and ACM and MIC included by implication.

We know the old “melting pot” and “tossed salad” conundrums well, but so often forget the pelau and cook up concoctions. Yes, I am negotiating a most circuitous route to today’s question about engagement and disengagement of a collective future.

In conversation with Julius, and later Franka and Peter, I bored them yet again with questions of “self-esteem” and “self-confidence” in engaging the present and fashioning the future. This space has endlessly cited CLR James and Lloyd Best, but there are several others who framed the same questions in different ways.

Casual, uninformed dismissal of the communal, regional approach to individual problem-solving is thus both hurtful and harmful. If “we” have not now realised that we have nowhere to go alone as small, vulnerable, but resilient and creative nations, we have learnt nothing.

Even so, our formal and informal arrangements all contemplate disagreement and even injurious battle. It’s what happens with family. We have been here before in 1972 with recognition of Cuba, and the Grenadian tragedy of 1983. There were sharp divisions regarding Aristide’s ouster in 2004, and there are Caricom countries with diplomatic relations with China, and a few others with Taiwan.

Some of us even stop speaking with each other from time to time. When PetroCaribe was launched in 2005, Trinidad and Tobago (for obvious reasons) and Barbados were unenthusiastic, with the others arguing that far-reaching engagement was the result of enlightened self-interest.

Some in Trinidad and Tobago and in the region meanwhile saw the accord with Venezuela as a betrayal of sorts, especially since there were implications for Caricom arrangements built into the PetroCaribe agreement.

Even then, there were numerous bilaterals and multilaterals that remained in place involving Venezuela and Caribbean countries. For instance, T&T’s relations with this troubled neighbour are not restricted to oil and gas collaborations, and Venezuela’s persistent Essequibo claims had not disappeared when Guyana signed the PDVSA Energy Cooperation Agreement in 2014.

So, we argue at times even to the point of defamatory and degrading assertion. Today, you see, is me, the next day is you. But at the end of it all this is really about all ah “we” – whether we like it or not.