The decision by Caricom leaders at the 51st Regular Meeting in Castries, St Lucia, to refer the reappointment of Secretary General Dr Carla Barnett to the Caribbean Court of Justice (CCJ) is a manoeuvre wrapped in legal irony and political evasion.

Trinidad and Tobago’s meticulous 22-page objection letter, a document that reads more like an indictment of administrative overreach than a simple HR query, effectively freezes Dr Barnett in her position until the court delivers an advisory opinion. This tactical deployment of legalism bypasses an executive contract framework that explicitly requires six months’ notice, creating a state of suspended animation for the region’s top executive office.

Faced with a high-stakes management dilemma, the head table defaulted to intellectual laziness. Instead of settling the score like mature executives, they chose to treat the region’s highest tribunal as a convenient substitution bench to run out the clock. They kicked this administrative football straight downfield to the CCJ pitch in Port of Spain, hoping to park an uncomfortable political gridlock on the court’s turf.

It is a cynical piece of political theatre so egregious that even former FIFA Vice- President Jack Warner, the master of global football manoeuvring himself, would cry foul.

By running to the judiciary to escape an executive decision, Port of Spain treats the highest tribunal in the region as the “Convenient Court of Justice”. This trend of “judicialising” political stalemate sets a dangerous precedent, where the sanctity of the courtroom is exploited to mask the absence of consensus in the boardroom. It suggests that when the political heat in the Caribbean kitchen becomes too intense the leaders prefer to outsource the fire to the judges, rather than manage the flame themselves.

This referral is not happening in a vacuum; it echoes the structural ghosts that have haunted West Indian integration since the collapse of the Federation. The Revised Treaty of Chaguaramas (RTC) was intended to be a living, breathing constitutional framework for the Caricom Single Market and Economy (CSME), but it is increasingly being used as a shield for sovereign foot-dragging.

When a nation-State uses the letter of the treaty to undermine the spirit of regional cooperation the entire architecture of Caricom begins to rattle. By forcing the CCJ to interpret the minutiae of an employment contract, under the guise of treaty interpretation, the leaders are trivialising the court’s mission. The CCJ was built to handle the heavy lifting of trade disputes and fundamental rights, not to serve as an expensive human resources department for a deadlocked conference of heads.

THE ADVISORY OPINION ILLUSION

Under Article 212 of the RTC, the CCJ possesses exclusive jurisdiction to deliver advisory opinions, but these are fundamentally non-binding. There is no enforcement authority behind it. The CCJ will eventually hand down an opinion that carries persuasive authority, but that opinion will simply be referred right back to the Conference of Heads of Government, the exact same body currently locked in stalemate.

By running to the court, the leaders have merely outsourced a political hot potato to buy time. It is the diplomatic equivalent of playing for a boring, scoreless draw in extra time. If the conference is unable to reach a decision now, what suggests that an academic exercise by the judiciary will suddenly provide the backbone for an executive resolution later? The reality is that this delay serves the status quo, effectively stalling any progress on the Secretariat’s modernisation agenda while the legal gears grind slowly toward a non-committal conclusion.

This tactical sidestep completely shatters the basic decencies of executive talent management. In reputable multilateral institutions, a six-month notice window is an absolute, non-negotiable guard rail designed to protect operational continuity and safeguard the dignity of the office holder. By choosing to punt it to a judicial body Caricom has violated these basic tenets and chosen to handle a highly sensitive corporate HR matter in the cold glare of the public theatre.

This isn’t just about one individual; it is about the standard of governance we expect from our regional body. If the rules of engagement can be bent for political expediency, the integrity of every contract under the Caricom umbrella is called into question. It creates an environment of professional insecurity that ripples through the entire civil service, suggesting that loyalty and performance are secondary to the shifting sands of political favour.

The severe, unprecedented reputational damage to the incumbent cannot be ignored. Dr Barnett is left sitting in her official residence in Georgetown, Guyana, facing weeks of administrative purgatory under a public cloud of uncertainty. This is nothing short of a public shaming of the region’s top civil servant, systematically undermining her authority before international partners and internal staff. The ultimate tragedy is the message it sends across the region. What brilliant West Indian technocrat would choose to return and labour in the regional vineyard if this is the reward for an impeccable career?

The broader implications for Caribbean human capital are devastating. We often lament the “brain drain”, the migration of our brightest minds to the global North, yet we fail to examine the push factors we create at home. When the highest office in the region is treated with such levity and lack of procedural respect, we signal to the next generation of West Indian leaders that their talents are better spent in the private sector or in international organisations in which professional standards are respected. We are effectively building a glass ceiling constructed not of gender alone, but of parochial political warfare that no amount of professional merit can shatter.

THE PORT OF SPAIN PARADOX

The institutional irony makes the situation even more egregious. Trinidad and Tobago is the literal headquarters of the CCJ. The State has enacted domestic legislation granting privileges and immunities to its operations in strict keeping with international law. Yet, Trinidad and Tobago famously refuses to recognise the CCJ in its appellate jurisdiction, remaining fiercely loyal to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council in London for its own domestic appeals. This “pick and choose” approach to justice is the height of post-colonial hypocrisy.

When asked directly at the conclusion of the St Lucia summit whether Trinidad and Tobago would finally adopt the CCJ as its final appellate court, Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar flatly replied, “Not at this time.”

Port of Spain has engineered a politically convenient paradox: Original jurisdiction for high-level executive treaty mechanics, but the Privy Council for the domestic legal rights of ordinary citizens.

The CCJ is treated as a premium, on-demand arbitration service for prime ministers who want to avoid making a tough call, whilst being denied its full constitutional purpose for the people of Trinidad and Tobago.

This schizophrenic relationship with the judiciary undermines the very court that Caricom leaders now claim to respect. It suggests that the CCJ is good enough to resolve their internal squabbles, but not good enough to adjudicate the justice of the man in the street. This dualism is a symptom of a deeper malaise where regionalism is treated as a buffet — where leaders take what serves their immediate needs and leave the rest on the table.

A FAILURE OF EXECUTIVE COURAGE

This entire litigious circus was wholly unnecessary. If the heads of government truly required independent, objective clarity they could have easily empanelled an independent board of eminent Caribbean jurists and left the CCJ to address macro-integration issues. But a panel of independent jurists would have delivered a swift, definitive answer, which is exactly what our leaders were trying to avoid.

Faced with an acrimonious disagreement, they chose the path of political convenience, relegating our highest court to a body of convenience, and leaving their top civil servant to bear the fallout.

David Rudder would have an entire album for this — a soundtrack of broken promises and institutional decay. The summit in Castries is over, but our premier regional institutions will be nursing this self-inflicted hangover for a long time to come. Until our leaders find the courage to govern by consensus, rather than by litigation, the dream of a truly integrated Caribbean will remain an advisory opinion; persuasive in theory, but powerless in practice.

Julian Rogers is a veteran Caribbean journalist and communications consultant. He is the principal of Caribbean Bridges. Send comments to the Jamaica Observer or mediarogers@gmail.com.