When we talk about talent, ability, and skills, politics should never be excluded from that conversation. Curaçao’s political system, like any democracy, depends on people understanding what value they bring—whether they are in government or in opposition. These are fundamentally different roles, each requiring a distinct set of skills. Problems arise when those differences are ignored.
Being in government demands the ability to manage institutions, negotiate complex interests, and communicate clearly with the electorate. Voters need to understand not only what decisions are being made, but why. Opposition, on the other hand, is about visibility, pressure, and contrast. An opposition politician must be heard, must challenge the government effectively, and must present an alternative that people can rally behind.
At this moment, Curaçao is struggling on both ends. We see a weak opposition alongside a government that, in several cases, lacks the skills expected of those in executive power. That combination does little to strengthen democracy.
Take PAR as an example. Quincey Girigori, a former Minister of Justice, demonstrated during his time in government that he can explain policy clearly, negotiate effectively, and manage complex portfolios. Those are valuable governing skills. However, in opposition, his presence is barely noticeable. His voice does not cut through the public debate. Opposition politics often requires a willingness to “brawl” politically—not recklessly, but visibly—and that is simply not Girigori’s strength.
The situation becomes more problematic when looking at PAR’s second man, Shaheen Elhage. Even formal letters that end up as news articles carry little weight. The messaging lacks urgency and impact. Both Girigori and Elhage may have managerial qualities, but neither functions effectively as a driving force in opposition.
This is particularly striking because PAR does have members who clearly possess the skills needed to challenge a governing coalition head-on. Figures such as Ana-Maria Pauletta, Luigi Faneyte, and Steven Croes consistently show sharper profiles, stronger messaging, and a greater ability to mobilize attention. If PAR seriously wants a path back into government, it must confront the uncomfortable question of whether its current parliamentary leadership is fit for opposition—or whether space should be made for those who are.
The PNP (Nashonal) presents a different but equally concerning case. With four Members of Parliament, the party is barely audible. Public debate is dominated by statements from the party board, while the MPs themselves remain largely invisible. That is not how parliamentary democracy is meant to function.
Ruisandro Cijntje illustrates this problem clearly. As Minister of Economic Development, he was popular and effective. Yet in opposition, his voice has faded significantly. When he does speak, it is often too soft, too limited, and too infrequent to make an impact. This is not a question of competence, but of role suitability. Opposition requires sustained pressure and presence. PNP undoubtedly has members capable of that—but they are not the ones we are seeing.
In contrast, MAN-PIN demonstrates what effective opposition can look like. Giselle Mc William and Suzanne Camelia-Romer stand out as politicians who understand both sides of the aisle. Both have governing experience, and both consistently show they know how to operate in opposition. Camelia-Romer in particular does not shy away from direct confrontation with coalition MPs, and she does so on substance, preparation, and political weight. Engaging her requires knowledge and readiness. That is what serious opposition looks like.
If PAR and PNP want any realistic chance of challenging MFK electorally and returning to government, difficult choices lie ahead. Either their MPs must raise the volume, sharpen their public presence, and actively engage in political confrontation—or they must make room for others who are better equipped for that role. Education and experience alone are not enough; visibility and impact matter.
MAN-PIN, meanwhile, appears to be on the right track. Their voices are being heard, and people are reacting. In politics, that reaction—positive or critical—is often the first sign that democracy is still alive.
A strong democracy requires balance. Government must govern well, and opposition must oppose effectively. Curaçao deserves both.