Sometimes I ask myself whether Curaçao has truly said goodbye to the colonial era. Not politically. Not legally. But psychologically.
The recent events surrounding Dick Advocaat, the football federation, and the World Cup qualifiers brought something to the surface that goes much deeper than sports. Suddenly, the same recurring sentiments resurfaced that often appear whenever Curaçao begins achieving international success.
“The Dutch have found us again?”
“They’re only after the money.”
“They wouldn’t come to Curaçao for nothing.”
As if every success must automatically hide a secret agenda behind it.
And I understand where those feelings come from. Four hundred years of history do not simply disappear from a people. Distrust grows when power has historically come from outside for generations. That leaves traces in how people view authority, cooperation, and dependence.
But at a certain point, we must also dare to ask ourselves a difficult question: when does historical vigilance become a mental prison?
Because what I sometimes see in Curaçao is that every international success almost has to become proof that we can do it without the Netherlands. Or worse: that we can do it better.
As if we are still arguing with a past that should have ended long ago.
But world-class performance does not work that way.
Our football players do not perform only because of talent. They succeed because they received professional training, good guidance, access to modern facilities, and learned to think at a high level. Much of that knowledge came from the Netherlands or from other parts of the world.
The same applies to our baseball players, who have traveled to the United States for decades to continue developing themselves. Nobody feels ashamed when a Curaçaoan player shines in Major League Baseball. On the contrary — we feel proud.
So why does outside knowledge sometimes feel like a threat in other situations?
Perhaps because, as a small island, we have spent many years using creativity to compensate for scarcity. And understand me correctly: that creativity is a strength. Curaçaoans can improvise like almost nobody else. We find solutions where others remain stuck.
That ability emerged out of necessity.
But improvisation alone does not build a world-class standard.
That may be our greatest blind spot.
Sometimes we romanticize our survival instincts while the rest of the world advances through systems, structures, shared knowledge, and scale. Large countries do not succeed only because of talent. They succeed because they build systems that strengthen talent.
Good coaching brings more out of an athlete.
Good schools bring more out of students.
Good organizations bring more out of employees.
That is not weakness. That is reality.
I have seen that in my own life as well. I did not become a good teacher only because of my personal qualities. I improved because I gained access to resources, methodologies, international experiences, and professional structures. That did not take anything away from me. On the contrary — it made me stronger.
And perhaps we, as a people, must finally dare to recognize the same thing.
Using outside knowledge does not mean you are worth less. It means you are intelligent enough to grow faster.
Singapore did it.
Dubai did it.
Even the Netherlands once grew by importing knowledge and commerce from abroad.
So why should we not be allowed to do the same?
Our small scale is simultaneously our limitation and our strength. It is impossible for us to develop every form of expertise entirely on our own. We are simply too small for that. But precisely for that reason, we must learn to attract knowledge from around the world without shame — and then apply it in our own way.
Not out of inferiority.
But out of maturity.
Because in the end, true freedom is not proving that you can do everything alone.
True freedom emerges when cooperation no longer feels like submission.
Perhaps that is the next mental step Curaçao must take.
Not continuing to fight the ghosts of the past, but becoming strong enough to use knowledge from every corner of the world without losing our identity.
Orlando Meulens