By-Dr. Gérard Jean-Jacques (PhD, Political Science). Université Laval, Québec, Canada.
Barely 24 hours after the publication of the Environmental Social Impact Assessment (ESIA) by the Physical Planning Division, those who clamored for it had all but completely rejected it. We have previously seen this scene played out. In 2004, when Dominica signed a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) with the People’s Republic of China to officially establish diplomatic relations and sever ties with Taiwan, many here were strident in their calls for the public disclosure of the contents of that document. The MoU was subsequently laid in Parliament, circa 2005.
However, that act by the State did nothing to appease those who demanded it. In fact, in 2026, a few are still demanding the “release of the MoU we signed with China!” When political actors wish to frustrate the processes involved in governance and public policy and increase the cost of political action to the government, they sometimes use techniques such as the weaponization of transparency. For such actors, no amount of transparency or public engagement will suffice. Dominica, a context of nascent democracy, must guard against any attempt by political actors masquerading as “patriots” to advance their narrow political goals.
Western democracy has long treated transparency as a near-sacred virtue: if government is visible enough, the argument goes, it will become more accountable, more legitimate, and therefore more democratic. Yet that assumption is too neat, too linear, an observation supported by Amitai Etzioni (The Limits of Transparency and Is Transparency the Best Disinfectant?). Etzioni argues that transparency is overvalued and that its ideological uses cannot be justified because it cannot perform many of the functions its advocates assign to it. In other words, transparency may be a useful democratic instrument, but it is not democracy’s essence, nor even a reliable proxy for it.
This matters especially in nascent democracies, where transparency is often perceived as an indicator of democratic resilience. Opposition politicians and civic groups may present themselves as the guardians of openness, but transparency rhetoric can be used less to improve governance than to thwart and delegitimize it. We currently see this on display in this “Save Deux Branches Campaign:” A lot of noise and pseudo-intellectual posturing about environmental protection and patriotism when in reality too many of those involved in this campaign have proven through previous engagements to be more interested in a sustained campaign to frustrate development in the twisted logic that this frustration would naturally, miraculously, convert into an electoral victory for their preferred candidates.
This is why cries for transparency can become politically ambiguous in embryonic democracies. In principled hands, they help citizens see how power is exercised. In reckless hands, they become a weapon of permanent delegitimization, a way of turning every policy disagreement into proof of regime corruption (e.g., a determination to siphon copper off to mainland China so that, suggestively, some local political will benefit). This is not to say that opposition or civic activism is inherently anti-democratic. On the contrary, genuine social-accountability work is meant to improve state performance, not to sabotage it. The problem is that in fragile settings, transparency language can be stripped of that constructive purpose and converted into a theatre of moral purity, hypocrisy, and even seditious conduct, where the goal is not genuine reform but destabilization, subversion, and state capture.
The context in which transparency is both demanded and practised is, consequently, important. Yes, transparency matters, but only in an ecosystem that can absorb and act on it.; an observation that is reinforced by Wang and Guan’s meta-analysis, “Can Sunlight Disperse Mistrust?” This is crucial for new democracies. A state may publish an ESIA, budget data, procurement records, or declarations of assets, yet if citizens, media, courts, auditors, and political actors must rely on a third party (who, ironically, is not always transparent about its operations) to interpret the data or convert it into consequences, transparency becomes ceremonial. Transparency stabilizes democracy when actors, both those demanding it and those delivering it, already respect the rules of the game; it is far less likely to rescue a political order where partisan chasms are deep and the behaviour of many political elites is fundamentally predatory and abusive.
For transparency to succeed as a facilitator and indicator of democracy in fledgling democracies, several conditions are necessary. First, there must be independent institutions that can translate information into consequences: courts, auditors, election bodies, anti-corruption agencies, and a legislature willing to investigate. Second, the media and civil society must have the capacity to process and explain data, not simply broadcast outrage. “Capacity” here includes concepts such as discipline, technical competence, courage, and impartiality. Framing efforts by the state to secure material at “Deux Branches” for the construction of the international airport as an experiment to extract and process copper to be shipped surreptitiously to a foreign land for the pecuniary benefits of select political elites in government, without the courtesy of a nugget of evidence to support this scandalous allegation, is itself alarmingly reprehensible. Weaponising it by placing it in the hands of opposition radio and political operatives who have a record of seeking to frustrate the policy process is clearly subversive, reckless, and unacceptable; even treasonous.
Third, disclosure must be usable: data must be timely, understandable, comparable, and protected from manipulation. Fourth, political competition must be governed by shared constitutional rules; otherwise, transparency becomes just another tool in a zero-sum struggle for power. Fifth, there must be real sanctions for errant and self-interested actors. Without the possibility of consequence, transparency becomes answerability without accountability, and answerability alone is too weak to discipline power.
The final lesson is therefore uncomfortable for the transparency zealot, ersatz democrats, and for Dominicans, generally. The demand to “be transparent” is not automatically a democratic credential. In budding democracies like Dominica’s, the cry for transparency may be sincere, strategic, or cynical; in the case of this “Save Deux Branches” episode, it is the combination of the three. The test is not whether an actor asks for disclosure, but whether that actor accepts the disclosure, institutions, procedures, and consequences. A democracy is not made by the endless exposure of facts alone. It is made when facts are embedded in institutions capable of using them for judgment, restraint, and responsible behaviour. That is why transparency is best understood not as democracy’s master-key, but as one limited instrument among many—powerful when embedded, shallow when isolated, and dangerous when turned into a substitute for democratic responsibility itself.
Dominicans must remain vigilant, and our political leaders must remain focused and lead.
About the Author-Ambassador Dr. Gerard Jean-Jacques (PhD/Political Science, Université Laval, Quebec, Canada)-Ambassador to CARICOM and Commissioner to the OECS. Areas of Specialization: Public Policy and Public Management, Democracy, Public Governance, and Power Relations.
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