Dear Editor,

  This is not coming from me but from the newspaper.

  Receiver decided to use less number plates. In so doing owners of motor vehicles who had bigger numbers the previous year did not get the same number this year, but instead they a smaller number. A decision most probably made in order to cut costs. Bravo.

  What I do not understand, though, is that if the Receiver made that decision, why those vehicle owners, who do not have any kind of influence in that decision-making, have to bear whatever extra costs that decision (change) brings along. There is an ordinance governing the testing of motor vehicles and I do not believe that private entities can make decisions not based on the laws of that ordinance.

  Because of all the different cases of fraud I hope that this incident will not open a can of worms. What also surprises me is that the civil servant at the Receiver’s Office would dismiss this person with “It is not the Receiver’s problem.” I have said it before and I will continue to repeat it whenever necessary: Everything that happens in the country is the responsibility of government, in this case the Receiver.

  Do we really have to accept for government to accept decisions taken by private companies involving the government which negatively affect its citizens? And beside that, should not the Department of Economic Affairs have a say in these kinds of decisions?

  Since it was established that the number plates can accommodate a letter and five numbers I have spoken to some influential people and suggested to them to get rid of the P numbers and replace them with M numbers, avoiding at least two cars with the same number. (M-1 up to and including M-99999). I would like for the St. Maarten number plate to remain a collector’s item, so that one M-number should be unique.

  I have several more suggestions concerning number plates, but I will say this: when there are responsible jobs to be carried out, those in government should not employ incompetent friends or friends’ children to do the job. You will never get a “job well done”.

  It has been a few years now that the Receiver’s Office has been juggling with motor vehicle tax.

  Again, I have to remind us that the RST [Kingdom Detective Cooperation Team – Ed.] is very long-winded.

  Now this. I was in a discussion with someone who came to me to ask me if the police can give someone a fine for driving without a driver’s license if the police did not actually see that person driving the car. The old people used to say “circumstances alter cases” so I did not answer. So, the next question to me was, “Can the police decide that your car is parked wrong and after telling you to move it give you a fine for driving without a driver’s license, after telling you to move the car?” I know that you will not go against the police, but that happened not too long ago in the area of the old Summit hotel.

  I did not get into any discussion with that person but I am aware of a whole lot of controversial situations that the police and the public have gotten themselves into and my question is “Who is in charge of the St. Maarten police force?” Nothing hides  nowadays and it is no secret that things are not going right with those who have been chosen to protect and serve. I think it is time for those responsible to get together and do what has to be done to guarantee that the citizens of this country continue to feel themselves policed in the correct manner.

  Too many people are complaining that there is no leadership in the force. And my question remains: Why was Minister Panneflek not appointed Minister of Justice or even before that Head Commissioner, just like they got together and planned for Peter de Witte to come to St. Maarten.

Russell A. Simmons

By Alex Rosaria

The three-finger salute has become the protest sign of the Burmese.

  “It is not power that corrupts, but fear. Fear of losing power corrupts those who wield it..” – Daw Aung San Suu Kyi in 1991 when she accepted the Sakharov Prize for Freedom of Thought, 1991.

  Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi was then under house arrest by the Burmese military. In 2015 she came to power as the de facto leader of Myanmar. (The military changed the constitution making it impossible for someone married to a foreigner to run for office. Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi is married to an Englishman).

  A few days ago the military once again took control over the country and arrested Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi. The general consensus is that the power grab was because the military were afraid of losing power. Fact is, however, that the military never lost power under Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi’s rule. Fact is also that this time she cannot count on the support of the Burmese and certainly not on the international community that rewarded her braveness as a fighter for the powerless in the ’90s with a Nobel Peace Prize.

  Her demise was letting a slaughter against the powerless Muslim Rohingya minority take place in her country as I wrote earlier, after a visit to Myanmar in 2016. In 2019 she faced charges for genocide in the International Court of Justice, but to the dismay of many framed the Rohingya as terrorists fighting the military. Many past Nobel Laureates called for her Nobel Prize to be revoked.

  Apparently Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi was also afraid of losing power and didn’t want to upset the military establishment by recognizing the plight of the Rohingya.

  It is unclear what will happen next. The UN Security Council doesn’t have China on board to pass a resolution condemning the military actions. Also, the West doesn’t have much leverage with the Burmese military which it has always punished. Piling up sanctions will mostly hit the people of Myanmar and not the military.

  I think that this shows that diplomatic relations should be based on skillful tactics and not merely on penalizing and isolating regimes that are not deemed friendly. Hopefully the Association of Southeastern Asia (ASEAN), which Myanmar belongs to, can quietly engage with the military without much unnecessary meddling by Washington and Brussels.

  ~ Alex David Rosaria (53) is a freelance consultant active in Asia and the Pacific. He is a former Member of Parliament, Minister of Economic Affairs, State Secretary of Finance and UN Implementation Officer in Africa and Central America. He is from Curaçao and has an MBA from University of Iowa (USA). ~

Dear Editor,

  In a letter addressed to Prime Minister Rutte in September 2015, former Prime Minister Marcel Gumbs, along with former Prime Ministers Eman of Aruba and Whiteman of Curaçao, questioned whether the Netherlands Antilles were ever decolonized. In the letter, all three Prime Ministers reminded Mr. Rutte that the United Nations had serious doubts about the sincerity of the Dutch State to decolonize these islands and questioned whether the Kingdom Charter had decolonized the islands.

  The honorable Prime Ministers pointed out that the UN General Assembly had warned of the danger of abusing the position of governor to violate the autonomy of the islands. Additionally, the former Prime Ministers pointed out that the Antillian Prime Minister Jonkheer (circa 1955) managed to persuade a skeptical UN General Assembly that the Netherlands Antilles would not hesitate to call on the international community should their rights be violated.

  The UN General Assembly suspicion of the Dutch intentions (at the time the Netherlands had a bad reputation because of its conduct during the war in Indonesia) was reflected in the vote on Resolution 945X of December 15, 1955. The General Assembly adopted two amendments which their sponsors (India and Uruguay) stated were intended to declare that the Netherlands Antilles were not fully self-governing, as well as restricting itself to only Article 73e of the UN Charter while allowing the rest of Article 73 to remain in force. Resolution 945X was adopted with a 28 per cent vote of approval while 43 per cent of the members abstained. It is the lowest score achieved by any nation during the decolonization process. Inge Klinkers, who wrote “De Weg Naar Het Statuut”, states that the UN vote was “a bitter pill” for the Netherlands.

Pro Soualiga Foundation

Dear Editor,

  A month or so ago, I said farewell to you and to the readers of The Daily Herald, a decision that I still stand by, but please allow me here, one last time, to express my nostalgia and my grief in memory and in praise of a dear old departed friend, the late Roger (Roro) Petit. For the last three years or more, ill health, hurricanes, the pandemic and other storms of life had forced Roger to relinquish his outings: his boating and fishing. I presume that he was hoping, waiting for better weather to come his way when he could get back out to sea the way he used to do, some years earlier, before the ongoing calamities, the debilitating storms began.

  The old seaman may have grown tired of waiting for the storms to lift, for the bad weather to go away. On January 25, 2021, he left all of his fishing gear at home: his rods, his reels, all of his lures and, very out of character for him – all alone – he headed out and away from everyone and everything; away from all of us who already miss him; all of us who loved him. He cast off and headed straight into the sunset. But if we cannot find him there, we can search for him elsewhere; he may be down by the old sandbox tree on that tiny beach over the retaining wall in front of his grandfather’s shop (later La Vie en Rose); there, or maybe mid-way down the wharf, or at the very end of it where the water is deeper, the fishing is better and there are steps going down to the sea.  

  Roger was not one of the “Boys from the Sand”, he was not from Sandy Ground; Roro was from Marigot and, every school day, he was driven (with others) to his classes in Great Bay. More to the point, Roro resided on the wharf, in Marigot; that is where he lived, not at his grandfather’s or at Mr. Luke Peterson’s next door. He lived on the wharf and on that tiny beach, the sand of which used to come and go with the tides. The beach is still there, I guess, trapped underneath the parking area and online, there forever for viewing at the “Museum van Wereldculturen” in the Netherlands. Last night, in my grief, going back in thoughts, I tried to imagine Roro on the beach in that Boy Lawson (1964) black and white photograph “Straatbeeld van Marigot”. The color version of the photo is sharper; the image is clearer, more detailed, but only a bit less depressing and drab looking.

  Roro is nowhere to be seen, of course, in that sad, that somber snapshot that looks like it was taken after a hurricane. But how could that be when the leaves of the sandbox tree are so plentiful, the foliage so dense? This picture must have been taken following a powerful “ground-sea”. In November 1964, wherever he was, Roger would have turned 17, and, by then, he would have changed residence; he would have moved indoors – off of his beach and his wharf. That year or shortly thereafter he would leave to study in Holland with friends and schoolmates; if I am not mistaken, with Henri Brookson, Josianne Artsen, and a few others. Three years later (in 1967) he was there when Leonard Cohen released his first album with his hit song, “So Long, Marianne”; Roger told me how much he loved it when it was released and he first heard it in Holland.

  Back in the late ’50s and the very early ’60s, before I went abroad and Roro left for Holland, when he was not in school, morning, afternoon and, sometimes, in the early evening, he was on his wharf or on his beach with his fishing cane, the only person we knew back then who fished with a cane! He was a master at catching little “silver fishes” he would give away to others who used them for bait. Roro and I were not close back then: he was not from “the Sand,” and he was my junior; I was a big boy: our three-year difference mattered! But I remember him lecturing me and others at length on fishing and other things having to do with the sea. Roro had a master tutor: his grandfather.

  Later, in Holland, Roger studied economics and history, two subjects that, along with politics, never ceased to interest him; he was an avid reader of books and of a number of magazines. Roger was a gifted teacher; he could have been a great university lecturer.

  When we met up again back in the early ’80s and got closer, our three-year difference no longer mattered. Roger was then a young businessman involved in the then-booming restaurant business on both sides of the island with his older brother Ray whom he worshipped, to whom he looked up with the greatest of deference, modesty, discretion and of brotherly love. It was a relationship that has always struck me as special, exemplary. Roro had moved on, long ago, from his fishing cane; from those “redmen,” (squirrel fishes), and the “silver fishes'' to angling for marlins, tunas, and swordfishes among other game fish. Sometimes, when I watched Roro wrestling some of those monsters, I would remember him standing on the wharf, casting the line on that strange fishing cane of his.

  With much discretion, Roro Petit was always ready to assist his friends and others; he was a judicious and most important contributor to the development of the Saint Martin community; he was a behind-the-scenes key person in almost everything of importance that came to fruition, to actualization in his community over 45 years or more. Some of Roger’s actions or of his words may have hurt or offended some folks; he was not without reproach. He was like most of us, and maybe much less blameworthy than many of us. Who will cast the first stone? Who among us is blameless?

  My friend Roger was a sensitive man, a caring person; some years ago, I saw him weep like a child while telling me how the young son of our friend, Dr. F. Anaïs had taken ill suddenly and died. Roger was a loving, caring father to his daughter Tamara and to his son Stephan; he was a dedicated companion to Robin and Marjolein. He was also a doting grandfather to Lyla and Luke; I extend my heartfelt condolences to Marjolein, Stephan and Tamara, to Ray, Robé, Patrick, and Caroline; to Robin and Chemaine; to  all of Roger’s cousins (too many to list here) and to all of his many friends in Saint Martin and abroad. I deeply regret not being able to be present to pay my respects at the Funeral Home in Galisbay.

  I must end this long “remembering” of mine; I return, online, to Boy Lawson’s “Straatbeeld van Marigot” (1964) photograph now, seemingly a  “Cultural Treasure”, and I persist. I concentrate on the image; I try to find Roro in the picture; I am sure that he is there, somewhere. Now the scene is animated, the day is bright and promising; white clouds in a blue sky with green hills in the background. Folks are milling around on the wharf and assembling in the shade of the sandbox tree. I gaze beyond the green vehicle and the man standing by it, beyond the ribbed bars and the rusty oil barrels; I survey the scene. Roro is nowhere to be seen, he is not there, he is nowhere anymore, except in our thoughts. In my “remembering”, Roro is standing on the wharf; he has cast his line, he is looking towards the Bluff, waiting for a bite. He is waiting there for us.

Gérard M. Hunt