Dear Editor,

  “When the best has left us and there is nothing that remains but the worst in a life that is so stupid we can cry, we must know how to still smile. We must know how to hold fast to our dignity in spite of all, and, no matter what it may cost us, walk away without looking back.

  “Faced with destiny that is disarming us and happiness that is eluding us, we must know how to hide our tears. When there is no more love being served, we must know how to leave the table without hanging on looking pitiful and without being quarrelsome or loud … .” (Charles Aznavour, Il Faut Savoir, 1961).

   This is my abridged rendition of the first four stanzas of Charles Aznavour’s hit song, Il Faut Savoir (We Must Know). The esteemed French crooner died two years ago on October 1, 2018, leaving the world a treasure chest of beautiful lyrics, of splendid song-poems. He was in his mid-30s when he wrote and recorded Il Faut Savoir in 1961.

  I have always elected to ignore the dramatic ending of the song because it negates everything that precedes it in the lyrics. In its surprising ending, emotions, feelings override reason; there is no more “love being served,” but the heartbroken protagonist cannot bring himself to “leave the table,” he “cannot” practice what he preaches.

  I heard a recording of Il Faut Savoir on the radio a year or so after it was released in France. In the 1950s and early ’60s, it took a while for all such things to reach Saint Martin by way of Guadeloupe or Martinique; the calypsos, meringues and American hits got to the island much faster. 1962 and 1963 were turning point periods in my life and, as the research of the late Daniella Jeffry suggests, they are also landmark years in the modern history of Saint Martin.

  I was not experiencing any romantic issues during that period – they came later! I do not know why the lyrics of this song spoke to me the way they did back then, apart from the fact that my father, who was abroad and seriously ill for a long time, died during this period. From 1962 onward, Il Faut Savoir has helped me to cope with many of the difficulties I have faced. I have often relied – as I am doing today – on the first four stanzas of this song.

  Time flies, indeed, and much has changed in the 40 years or so since I started this scribbling of mine. Several of my relatives and friends have departed; there is no use lamenting their absence; no way of filling the void their passing has opened up in me. In his Salt from My Attic, Professor John A. Shedd (1859-1928) remarks: “A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.” Indeed, ships are made to sail the seas. For the last nine months or so, we have been confined to our place of residence and (legally) obliged to wear a mask everywhere else except when outside, in open air and at some distance away from others.

  These very last weeks of this most challenging year COVID-19 continues to spread hardship, sickness and death worldwide. We are like ships roped up in harbor during a storm, but this is not what we were wired for; we are social beings designed to live connected, interdependent – inextricably linked. Hopefully, the various vaccines that have been developed will soon enable us to get back to the way we were made to function, to live. And maybe the virus will have helped us to better appreciate that connection: the link that binds us as human beings.

   Looking back at my journey, from the sunny days of my modest childhood and adolescence in Sandy Ground, the old Sandy Ground of the 1950s and 1960s, fast forward to these sunset days in my 70s, I am amazed, truly astonished that I have made it this far in such relatively good shape. It may be a kind of proof that one should never despair, for one never knows what the future has in store. Maybe we must just keep on doing and hoping for the best – the way the fishermen used to do in the Sandy Ground of my youth.

  Tooled up with a sense of purpose, shears (a wire cutter), a pair of pliers and a machete, the fisherman worked at “making his fish pots” in the shade of a tree. The “chicken-coop wire” for the enclosure and the “galvanized bracing wire” for the tying were essentials for the making of his fish traps. He usually got these articles on credit from a merchant who “trusted him,” who had confidence that he would settle his account as he worked his fish pots. Other essentials were much easier to obtain: pondside sticks of a certain thickness and length that he would cut and scrape clean of all of their bark.    

  Like Mr. Eustache Maccow, our master tailor in Saint James, who fitted us in our Sunday best, the fisherman, using his shears, his wire cutter, would carefully cut out, from his precious role of chicken-coop wire, the three sections he needed to make his “fish pot”: two identical regular hexagon-shaped pieces (the top and the bottom of the trap) and a narrower rectangular strip or section to fit around the six-sided regular hexagon-shaped “fish pot”.

  But in order to give his “nasse” its local “fish pot” shape, the top and the bottom hexagon-shaped sections had to be amputated, each one of them, of two of their six equilateral triangles; so he would carefully mark and cut out two adjoining equilateral triangles from the top and the bottom hexagon-shaped sections. The two sections that remained – each one consisting of 4 equilateral triangles – was the final shape of the top and bottom sections of his fish pot: masterful geometry!

   As I recall, cutting, shaping and installing the “fish entrance” at the apex of the angle that was opened up by the “amputation” was somewhat challenging due to the tricky downward pitch that, seemingly, was required to make the entrance most effective, most welcoming to the fish! It was also very important not to forget to cut out and install a back door, the exit for emptying the catch. A novice fisherman had, reportedly, forgotten to add this door to one of his “fish pots,” an omission from which the poor man could not fully recover!

  When all of the sections were cut and assembled and the form of the “fish pot” was achieved, the craftsman/fisherman would attach some of the thicker (stronger) pondside sticks to the outside (top and bottom of the trap) and all around the six-sided fish pot. He would then insert and attach slightly thinner sticks all along the many seams or joints of the assembled chicken-coop wire trap. Now, all that remained to be done was the “bracing”: tying firmly all of the sticks to the chicken-coop wire assemblage.

   Working with his pliers and with segments of the stubborn galvanized bracing wire, he would “brace his fish pot,” that is firmly tie the tough pondside sticks to the chicken-coop wire on the top and the bottom of the trap, all around its six sides and all along its joints or seams – everywhere! 100 or more of those strong, tight, solid galvanized stitches! Beautiful craftsmanship! An object of utility and art!

  Before taking his “pots” out to set them, he would, sometimes, bait them with roasted lobsters! Yes, such is the absurdity of life. Alone or with a fishing mate, he took them out to sea, one, two or three fish pots at the stern of a small craft. He rowed his boat out of sight, usually down beyond the point of the Bluff, where he dropped his precious traps, or rather where he set them “blindly,” that is without a buoy, a floater or marker, but with near pinpointed crossed (onshore) references. The “joke” among fishermen was some version of a novice pescador using a “thick black cloud hanging over Marigot Hill” with some other land feature as cross references in marking the location of his pots!

  In the Sandy Ground of my youth, the fishermen seemed always hopeful that they would trap enough fish to enable them to feed their family and some close friends; to make some money that would allow them to settle their debts and to carry on: to keep “going back out,” revisiting their traps, “pulling their fish pots” and trapping, catching enough fish to get by, to make ends meet.

  If the wise and gifted Wallace Stevens (1879-1955) could find his way back among us, I think he would, most likely, concede that poetry – alone – does not, as he opined, “provide the resistance to the pressure of reality …,” but that music (rhythm and melody, particularly); poetry (such as his); curiosity; consensus (democracy) and science – this quintet – and in that order, may very likely offer us vistas toward a sense of wholeness on our way back into the unknown of being, back into our existence.

   We are not certain of this, my reader, but it seems that we, you and I, will make it through this most challenging year; for this we can be grateful; for this we must be thankful. I wish you a Merry Christmas and a healthy and Happy New Year (2021). Farewell! Adieu!

Gérard M. Hunt

Dear Editor,

  The essence of many political positions on St. Maarten is the belief that when our inevitably vulnerable economy is under pressure, development and emergency support other than the Dutch support would be easier, more generous and with less restrictions than at present. There is also the assumption that there are currently substantial restrictions forced by the Netherlands and that these explain the increase in economic pressures that occurred since the boom years of the 1990s.

  If you examine the restrictions imposed by the Dutch by far the majority are in the realm of limiting the costs of bad governance. There are very few that prevent entrepreneurial initiative and none that prevent effective public administration. The alternative to the Kingdom relationship would be a relationship with other independent islands and probably (if the likely scenarios of deficit spending occurs) with international banks who would give support only on the basis of compliance with certain financial and behavior standards.

  They would do pretty much the same as what State Secretary Knops is doing now as he uses the opportunity of the pandemic-driven deficits. Except that they would do more in the form of loans and less in the form of grants. But they would certainly be forcing public sector expenditure to be kept below a certain percentage and demanding that public sector capital investment be planned and executed, and would put in place hard conditions but probably of a different sort and punitive interest rates higher than Knops. There is no evidence to believe that for a relatively high income country that we are, the “assistance” would be any more generous or forthcoming in times of disasters.

  They would not provide human resource back-up in the manner that NL [the Netherlands – Ed.] would do with civil servants but if did and the assistance was from China (who have the most funds for development assistance and the most to gain) they would force conditions for access by Chinese labour.

  Just a short dip into the recent history of development assistance in countries like Zambia, Sri Lanka, Tanzania and some nearby Caribbean territories will show that development assistance is scarce, heavily conditioned and often not a net contributor to the development plan of the country.

  Every election our political candidates claim to want to go to parliament to “fight for the people”. The idea that there is someone to fight against has prospered. Once it was Curaçao and currently it is the Netherlands. There is in fact no one to fight against! We need parliamentarians to fight for good governance and fiscal prudence so that we don’t need assistance from Curaçao, the Netherlands or a global institution like the IMF [International Monetary Fund] or development assistance from China. Then we will win the race to give our population the best quality of life.

Robbie Ferron

Dear Editor,

  What are the facts? Fact is that on September 6, 2017, St. Maarten was struck by a category 5 hurricane named “Irma”. Fact is that the island’s infrastructure suffered some 90 per cent damage. Fact is that prior to the passing of said hurricane, St. Maarten was on her way to 3 consecutive budgets. Fact is that the Dutch did give some support. Fact is that thanks to the insurance payouts and the savings from individuals and businesses we were well on our way to pre-Irma condition.

  Fact is that the Dutch government offered a grant of 550 [million – Ed.] euros. Fact is that former Prime Minister William Marlin based the proposed conditions coined them an “Indecent Proposal”. Fact is that because of this a negative media blitz was started against him by the Dutch government because of the stance he took which led to his resignation.

  Fact is that the Dutch government placed the World Bank as an intermediary to manage the Reconstruction Fund with the knowledge that St. Maarten did not have the capacity nor the expertise to deal with such a complex institution. Fact is that because of this many projects have yet to be executed. Fact is that had this not been the case there would be no huge bureaucracy which has prevented job creation and much-needed tax revenues for government.

  Fact is that COVID-19 disabled not only the entire global economy, therefore St. Maarten of course was not spared. Fact is that government in anticipation of job losses and economic fallout immediately came up with the National Stimulus Plan to assist individuals and businesses using her own funds. Fact is that St. Maarten lost in cruise tourism alone some $250 million. Fact is that the Dutch government told St. Maarten that the assistance of 80 per cent support was too high and should be reduced to 60 per cent. Fact is that St. Maarten’s government started to float a bond of NAf. 75 million. Fact is that the Committee for Financial Supervision brought out a negative advice against such, which discouraged potential investors.

  Fact is that on October 21 of the current year a bond of 50 million guilders had matured which was extended twice to November and again this month. Now it is being said once we sign it will be extended for 15 years. Fact is that St. Maarten could have used part of the NAf. 75 million to pay off the bond. Fact is that any foreign loan has to be guaranteed by the Dutch government. Fact is that St. Maarten is in dire need of financial injection. Fact is that the Dutch government demanded reduction in salaries from Parliamentarians, Ministers, civil servants, workers of government-owned companies retroactively and the list goes on. Fact is that refusal to adhere to these conditions will mean no financial support and in turn the government cannot meet its financial obligations.

  I am totally against the conditions set by the Dutch government but as someone said, the fact is, when you hold the blade and they hold the handle, you are at a disadvantage. It is best to take a step back in order to make a comeback. We can’t change the past and this is a fact.

George Pantophlet

By Bonnie Benesh, Think to Do Institute

  No country has been spared the impact of COVID-19. Some face a particularly difficult set of challenges. That is because before the pandemic arrived, they have been already struggling, beset by poor outcomes such as poor economic growth, high unemployment, brain drain, poor social cohesion, and poverty, amongst others. Other stressors and disruptive developments such as aging populations, and lack of preparedness to deal with the effects the 4IR and climate change added to their struggle. And now, these factors leave them especially ill-equipped to deal with the COVID-19 crisis. Curacao appears to be one of these countries.

  Evidence of such can also be found in the island action plan, which is part of the agreement reached with Holland for budget and capacity support. What these countries need in order to withstand a pandemic, or any other major crises for that matter, is precisely what fragile states lack: a government with the institutional capacity.

  Institutional capacity to first of all devise and deliver on a comprehensive plan of action. Such a plan allows for implementation of rules and their enforcement to contain the spread of the disease, and allows for building back better. Such plans also address the deficiencies in the various national institutions and systems that allow for a country to bounce back, and come out of this ordeal stronger. That is what resiliency is all about.

  The above, that is lack of state capacity, is immediately evident in many countries and in many domains. But one capacity that stands out in many countries is that of public health, evidenced by notable shortages in hospital beds to deal not only with the COVID-19 health fall-out, but also with regular healthcare demand.

  An effective response to this or any crisis requires trust in government. In addition to the scarce capacity, governments in many fragile states may also lack legitimacy-trust of the people. In countries which, as indicated earlier, already had challenges before the pandemic, their people may have a problem with following even a government that proves capable of leading. When there is no trust, the compliance to new rules is challenged.

  Another factor related to the private sector. A strong private sector is also a necessary component of effective, resilient states. People must be able to work to support their families, and governments must generate tax revenues to help those who cannot. Yet fragile states typically lack the formal economy through which to meet these needs.

  The economic impact of the pandemic will surely fall harder on fragile states, not just as a result of internal lockdowns, but because of what is happening overseas, namely the economic fall-out from the drop in demand. In the case of Curaçao, trade with our main partners has declined. Fiscal deficits are ballooning. Because fragile states, and again Curaçao is no exception, rely on imports for much of their food, there is now increasing indications of higher prices because of disruptions in international supply chains.

  The level of fragility of a nation is the sum of the many factors mentioned above and some not mentioned. With resiliency being an ideal state, measuring fragility is valuable. If we want to tackle the resiliency of our nation in a holistic and decisive manner, we must first define the parameters of fragility for our nation, and measure such. For it is only on this basis that we can come up with policy measures to address the many aspects of fragility, and thereby move into the direction of a more resilient nation.

  Providing insights into what makes us a more resilient nation is precisely the objective of Think to Do Institute, which currently is also researching the fragility of our nation by adapting the fragile states index of the Fund for Peace methodology. The Fragile States Index is an annual assessment of 178 countries based on a measurement of the social, economic, and political pressures that each country faces. What sets countries apart is their resilience, or their ability to withstand shocks, and their capacity to respond effectively to those pressures. Furthermore, in a globalized and interconnected world, fragility, wherever it may be, is everybody’s problem. Fragility ultimately affects everyone, one way or another.

  Think to Do Institute is an independent, apolitical think tank located in Curaçao, Dutch Caribbean. The T2DI has as its purpose to help Curaçao become a more resilient society by producing research that is based on best practice, and which delivers practical solutions to the barriers that hold the community back from becoming more resilient.

  Research evidence shows that Resilient Societies are created by attention to people, to organizations, to place, and to knowledge. Resilient Societies design, redesign organizations, institutions and systems to better absorb disruption, operate under a wide variety of conditions, and shift more fluently from one circumstance to the next. For more information about Think to DO Institute, visit the website:  www.thinktodoinstitute.com.