The independence of Curaçao within the kingdom is an illusion. It comes at the expense of less affluent Curaçaoans, according to Jan Huurman. Turn the island into an overseas municipality.
For tourists, Curaçao is a bit like the Netherlands in the 1950s under a permanent sun. A little different, but still familiar. Gable-roofed houses by the water and the guilder as currency. But those who have worked and lived in Curaçao for a while discover that it is a completely different society, with different customs and rules of the game. Not a society that is easily discovered. Even I, as a Healthcare Inspector who visited all corners and all levels of Curaçao, could not penetrate to the core. As a European Dutchman, you always remain a relative outsider on that island. It can be frustrating but also a source of wonder. Especially for the unsurpassed ability of Curaçaoan politicians and citizens to live with illusions and keep illusions alive.
October 10, 2010, should have been a shining new starting point for Curaçao: within the kingdom but independent of the other Caribbean islands and relieved of the burden of debt. Two years later, the first Prime Minister of the country, Gerrit Schotte, left the political stage, leaving a gap of hundreds of millions of guilders in the state treasury. The court convicted Schotte five years later of corruption, and he disappeared behind bars for three years. Political integrity turned out to be an illusion.
A series of unrealistic dreams followed. Smaller dreams, like that of a spaceplane taking off from Curaçao for paying passengers and a mega-farm for a thousand cattle. Both failed in the planning phase. Also, larger illusions, such as that of an affordable new hospital. Yes, it was necessary to replace the more than 165-year-old St. Elisabeth Hospital, but what preceded the opening of the new hospital, Curaçao Medical Center (CMC), in 2019, in terms of fallacies and misguided decisions, defies imagination. The result is an unaffordable institution that accumulated 250 million guilders in debt in a short time. A parliamentary inquiry is currently underway.
Even greater is the illusion that the Isla refinery, which shut down after a fire in February 2018 and without an operator since late 2019, will ever become active again. Despite costly searches, no one wants to take over the collection of old rust. No wonder: the world has committed to transitioning to fossil-free energy. Without a billion-dollar investment, the refinery cannot even meet the current environmental standards.
Of a different nature but no less serious is the illusion that a small country like Curaçao can create sufficient checks and balances to restrain powerful financial forces. Scandals surrounding Girobank and insurer Ennia, where vultures seized control of corporate capital, prove the opposite. Savings and pension funds evaporated under the failed supervision of boards of directors and the Central Bank. The profits went to the vultures, and the loss of hundreds of millions of guilders was passed on to the national treasury.
An independent country should have enough reserves to cope with smaller and larger disasters. The COVID-19 pandemic proved otherwise. Curaçao went into lockdown, tourism came to a standstill, and bankruptcy loomed. Only a financial injection from the Netherlands of nearly a billion guilders (400 million euros) prevented this disaster. The amount, a soft loan, still stands as debt on Curaçao's state balance sheet.
Seven illusions from the still-short existence of the country Curaçao. Schotte's bills, the new hospital, Girobank and Ennia, the rusty refinery, and the COVID-19 pandemic are still outstanding, totaling a billion-euro burden. All of these are evidence that Curaçao cannot stand on its own feet. The overarching illusion is that of an independent Curaçao, a dream upheld by opportunistic politicians and the wealthy elite. The reality is a small Caribbean island (fewer inhabitants than Nijmegen) protected by the military, coast guard, and judiciary within the Kingdom, and financially sustained by lenient loans from European Netherlands.
Puncture the illusions and accept the reality. The reality is that the construction of the supposedly independent Curaçao is untenable and brings nothing good for the poor citizens of Curaçao. Lick your wounds and start anew. Now responsibly, as part of the Netherlands, just like Bonaire, Sint Eustatius, and Saba.
End of the story? Not really. Because there are still two other options: complete independence or continuing as is. I call the first option the 'Haiti variant': on its own, with a lot of corruption and impoverished. Not really popular. The second choice fits better with the lack of genuine interest on the part of the European Netherlands. For politicians here, the Kingdom Relations dossier is a kind of chore. Something assigned at the end of each formation. Soon, the next government official will take office. Perhaps from the PVV, which, through then-Member of Parliament Hero Brinkman in 2008, labeled the overseas islands as a "largely corrupt den of thieves" and called for breaking ties with the islands by motion. Perhaps this attitude will lead to stricter enforcement of rules and agreements. But it is just as likely that such a future is also an illusion, this time a European Dutch illusion.
The reality: the construction of the so-called independent Curaçao is unsustainable.
Jan Huurman is a public health physician and medical historian. He was previously the Inspector of Healthcare and Inspector General of Public Health in Curaçao.
