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Paradise for Sale, Now Paradise for Refuge

  • Writer: Toyla Lagon
    Toyla Lagon
  • Jan 24
  • 6 min read

Author’s Note:

I write as a Development Specialist and student of Global Political Economics from a small island developing state. My professional work spans development projects across various sectors including tourism, healthcare, education and commerce which focused on adapting institutional frameworks for competitive inclusiveness and building institutional resilience. This commentary does not oppose ethical, humane, or orderly protection for refugees, nor does it challenge the legitimate security or fiscal interests of any nation. Rather, it seeks to examine how global migration policies, when implemented without binding mechanisms for equitable burden-sharing, can place disproportionate strain on smaller economies with limited fiscal and institutional capacity. The views expressed here are offered in the spirit of constructive policy dialogue, with the aim of encouraging coherence, shared responsibility, and continued cooperation among international partners. - Toyla J Lagon

The world knows; There has always been something about Caribbean islands that exude an aura of peaceful paradise. And in a perpetual pursuit of economic relevance and sustainability, island states have long leveraged this global perception as a narrative for selling small nuggets of this comfort to people seeking peace and escapism beyond their own shores.


West Indians have long learned how to curate peaceful paradise by embedding the ethos into our identity through sunshine, hospitality and the promotion of simplicity as a way of life. This narrative has been profitable as paradise has been packaged, marketed, monetised and sold for years through short and long term vacations and – more recently – citizenship by investment. When designed with sustainability in mind, the returns have financed critical public infrastructure such as airports and road networks, dams, schools, hospitals and sporting facilities. Selling paradise at a premium price has also supported the small economies navigating a global political system that rarely accommodates scale without existing financial capital or power. The reward of these transactions have been economic survival, especially in the context of compounding vulnerabilities due to climate change.


But the standard paradisiacal postcard is now being challenged to evolve.


A divided paradise: contrasting luxury and rescue, illustrating differing terms of entry amidst idyllic surroundings. This is an AI-generated image.
A divided paradise: contrasting luxury and rescue, illustrating differing terms of entry amidst idyllic surroundings. This is an AI-generated image.

Islands once presented primarily as temporary pleasure destinations are increasingly being asked, within the global political arena, to perform additional and more permanent roles. Paradise, once for sale, is now also expected to function as refuge.


This shift reflects broader changes in the governance of international migration. Across larger states, immigration policy has moved to the forefront of decision-making, driven by domestic fiscal responsibility, security management and political calculation. The 2025 United States National Security Strategy articulates an objective of maintaining “full control over borders, immigration systems and transportation networks” while emphasizing cooperation with partner states to promote “orderly migration that stops rather than facilitates destabilising population flows.”


These priorities are not unusual for sovereign states managing scale. Yet migration is not a phenomenon that responds neatly to policy intent. The narrowing of legal pathways does not halt movement by those seeking political refuge or economic reset. Instead, migration flows adjust geographically and follow new routes. In this context, small island developing states find themselves navigating a far more complex regional environment.


In light of this growing security posture, bilateral cooperation between the United States of America and individual Caribbean states has expanded in areas of border security, information sharing, and enforcement coordination. Superficial public discourse has increasingly linked this engagement to the perceived risks associated with Citizenship by Investment (CBI) programmes as a development financing tools. And while these cooperative arrangements are framed as instruments of regional stability, there is growing popular concern that they function, in practice, as mechanisms for the external policing of island state sovereignty.


Despite being presented to citizens as non-binding memoranda of understanding, these agreements signal heightened expectations placed on island governments to screen, host, and manage displaced populations. Such expectations likely rest on assumptions about the individual islands’ capacity from the mere existence of the CBI programmes. Yet, for several of these islands, aspects of CBI administration are outsourced internationally or managed by statutory bodies rather than public sector agencies that are riddled with technical capacity issues and constraints.


Moreso, the implications of such agreements extend far beyond border control. Healthcare systems respond to need before nationality. Across the region, public hospitals and health centres already operate under workforce shortages, aged equipment and infrastructure, as well as fragile supply chains. Any population increase without proportional growth in funding, staffing, and infrastructure places strain on systems that are already near their limits. Education systems may respond similarly. Because children enter classrooms regardless of status, teachers will be obligated to adapt. However, school administrators will be facing an expanding challenge of stretching limited resources to preserve access to education, despite what compromises may be realised to the quality of pedagogy.


If temporary settlement becomes prolonged, healthcare and education systems will adapt as they must. Care to the sick and instruction to the classroom will be provided. And equally, public costs will accrue as immediate and seemingly temporary needs expand and, before long, become permanent operational realities. These institutional considerations rarely feature prominently in migration negotiations, yet they absorb many of the practical consequences.


Alongside these pressures sits another reality that is often underexplored. Many Caribbean economies face persistent labour gaps. Growth and investment depend, in part, on the availability of human resources. Skilled trades, healthcare support, agriculture, construction and hospitality services, all currently report labor shortages across the region. Youthful talent have shown growing trends of migration outward. In pursuit of opportunity, skills required to sustain the already challenged economic systems drain faster than they can be replenished.


It would be disingenuous to assume that displaced populations contain no individuals with skills, experience, or a willingness to contribute. Yet legal uncertainty, administrative delay, and policy ambiguity frequently render them idle. That inactivity or underproductivity deepens dependency on the public systems that are already under strain. This represents a missed opportunity for managed contribution to reverse the labor market dilemma.


An ironic illustration of paradise reimagined through postcards. The islands known for vacation may now be dominated by persons prioritising shelter over sunshine. This is an AI-generated illustration.
An ironic illustration of paradise reimagined through postcards. The islands known for vacation may now be dominated by persons prioritising shelter over sunshine. This is an AI-generated illustration.

This tension deeply set in migration management raises a legitimate, complexed and layered policy question: how can small island developing states balance protection, legality, and economic participation without straining and undermining domestic labour markets or mismanaging international human rights obligations?


The international refugee framework provides moral guidance but limited operational clarity. The 1951 Refugee Convention and its 1967 Protocol both define refugee status and protect against refoulement, yet they do not establish binding mechanisms for equitable burden-sharing across partnered political states. The arrangements also do not prescribe uniform approaches to labour market access. Within CARICOM, legal positions and administrative postures vary. Only the countries of Dominica and Saint Kitts and Nevis are parties to these international instruments. Yet, the expectations of the broader island archipelago alego to converge in posturing and policy alignment intensifies as the border security strategy for the United States of America unfolds.


None of this implies a deliberate imposition of policy onto sovereign states. In fact, global policy outcomes often emerge from parallel decisions taken in good faith. Yet, at times, the by-products of their execution and interactions carry weight for those experiencing the external effects. If migration deterrence by larger political powers in the western hemisphere is prioritised, regional effects must be considered. If displacement becomes protracted, lawful pathways to economic participation become not only humane, but fiscally prudent. And if small island states are increasingly asked to contribute to regional stability, that commitment must be matched with international legal and policy clarity, shared accountability, as well as fair financial and technical support. Plainly put - collective action matters.


The reality is that the small island states cannot readily and practically afford to navigate these pressures in isolation. Negotiating individually with larger political entities enables asymmetric conditions. Instead, a coordinated regional approach that is grounded in shared standards, pooled negotiation and administrative capacity, and long-term integration planning offers greater leverage and sustainability. Joint frameworks for temporary protection, regulated labour access, and integration pathways would reduce ad hoc decision-making and transform displacement from unmanaged burden into structured participation.


Paradise can be multifunctional. But holding people, policy, and political economic pressure simultaneously requires refined systems, planning and cooperation for balance.


The price-tag for a piece of peace is indeed high, but with effective engineering of the present economic space, the future returns on regional resilience and cooperation can grow rather than diminish.

 
 
 

1 Comment


Anita Felix
Anita Felix
6 days ago

Reading this piece hit home for me in a way that goes beyond the usual tourism or policy debate. Growing up in Saint Lucia, I’ve always felt that paradise wasn’t just a slogan, it was a way of life: sunshine, community, resilience, and the warmth of people who make this place feel like home. But this commentary reminded me that there’s a real tension between how the world sees our islands and how we actually live here.


Over the years, we’ve been selling paradise through vacations, investments, and now citizenship programs which are supposed to help build schools, hospitals, and infrastructure. That’s real and meaningful. But now, as the world shifts and people are forced to flee war, climate disasters,…


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