SINT MAARTEN (GREAT BAY) - Gertjan Wouters began his tenure as Vice President of the Joint Court of Justice on St. Maarten in August 2022. That tenure comes to an end this June.
Previously stationed in Dordrecht, he recalls a moment years ago when he saw a comparison photo made by a colleague of the courthouse in Dordrecht and the one in Sint Maarten.
He was immediately struck by their physical similarities—the pillars, some stylistic elements—and even organizationally, both are relatively small-scale. But the similarities end there: Dordrecht had a team of 200; Sint Maarten, only 25.
The Joint Court has been actively working on what Wouters calls the “Caribbeanisation” of its operations, with a strong focus on recruiting people across all functions from the communities the court serves.
“The court in the Caribbean must be Caribbean,” he says. “We need judges from the Caribbean or with a Caribbean background. This is a must.” However, the path is not without obstacles.
“The challenge for Sint Maarten is the smallness of the community. Shorter lines can create real or perceived conflicts of interest over time,” he notes.
Other jurisdictions within the Joint Court have made more visible strides: in Curaçao, the bench is evenly split between Caribbean and Dutch judges; in Aruba, the ratio is 60/40.
“Sint Maarten is smaller. There can be pressure on impartiality and independence. I understand it. I myself am not a hermit—I don’t live under a rock, so I know a lot of people in Sint Maarten. But I’ll be leaving soon, and my deeper personal connections here are limited. That helps… and at the same time it can hinder.”
Still, Wouters emphasizes that judges must strike a balance. “A judge will never be your friend.
But they should be a friendly person—someone who connects with people in the courtroom. People don’t usually come to court for happy reasons. They should at least leave feeling the judge listened and did his best to understand them.”
On Language and Access
A significant barrier to broader Caribbean participation in the judiciary, particularly in Sint Maarten, is language. “The law, and therefore the court, operates in Dutch,” Wouters explains. “That’s the language of the decisions.” But Dutch is not widely spoken in Sint Maarten, especially outside of formal settings. “This is a stumbling block for many people. If you don’t speak it at home, in the streets, or at your sports club, it’s difficult.” Recognizing this disconnect, Wouters and his fellow judges have made deliberate efforts to incorporate English into courtroom proceedings—civil, criminal and administrative law.
“We try our best with English. We want people to know what’s happening and what they’re facing.” Some judges have gone further—providing English summaries of their rulings, even though the official decisions remain in Dutch. Wouters is one of them. In civil cases, with the help of tools like DeepL, he also provides unofficial translations of settlement agreements.
“Sometimes people don’t have a lawyer, and even when they do, they deserve to fully understand what they’re signing.”
His colleague Gerben Drenth hosts monthly tours of the courthouse, aimed at showing the building, demystifying the legal system and encouraging interest in the legal profession. And besides that, the courthouse organizes open days and tours for students.
Not a Legal Unicorn
The idea of a local judge is not a fantasy. “It’s absolutely possible,” Wouters insists. “There’s a little joke I like to tell: we had a deputy judge from Sint Maarten… but he left to become Governor.
The good news? He can serve two terms as Governor, and he’s still young—maybe he’ll come back!” Currently, a legal secretary is finishing her law study and maybe she’ll become Sint Maarten’s first local judge.
Professional Connections
Contrary to some perceptions, Wouters believes the professional relationships between judges, lawyers, and prosecutors are strong.
“This connectivity is vital for the administration of justice. It’s important we can have open, professional dialogue with each other.” He notes that most lawyers in Sint Maarten are from the Caribbean, unlike most judges and prosecutors. “This could be seen as a gap, but I see opportunity.”
In September 2024, he organized the first-ever joint professional meeting of judges, lawyers, and prosecutors—with former Governor Eugene Holiday delivering the keynote.
“That event opened up discussion. The lawyers and prosecutors spoke candidly about their concerns, and so did we, the judges. It helped building our relationships.” A two-day joint training and professional meeting followed in February, and a third will coincide with his farewell in April.
“I hope these sessions will continue after I’m gone. Continuity is always a challenge.” By now, Wouters says he knows most of the lawyers and prosecutors by their first names. “They’re in my courtroom, and I see them in the community. We all have to live together.”
Dispelling TV Myths
“There’s no jury?” Wouters says it’s a common question—often prompted by American legal dramas. “Not just here, but also in the Netherlands. People think it works like on television.”
He also clarifies that lawyers are free to speak out publicly and be critical. “They shouldn’t fear retaliation from judges. The lawyers are doing what’s best for their clients.” He acknowledges some hesitation around settlements.
“There’s a feeling that refusing to settle might lead to a bad judgment. That’s not the case. It’s not just about winning—it’s about justice.”
Highs, Lows, and Lessons
Wouters will soon return to Rotterdam to serve as Chief of the Investigating Judges, leading a team of 50 specialists—a sharp contrast to his current 25-person team, though still considered small in the Netherlands. He says one of the high points of his time in Sint Maarten has been “working with the people. I’ll miss them dearly—especially those in the courthouse, and many of the lawyers and prosecutors as well. I’m happy to have invested in those relationships.”
In the Netherlands, regular interaction between judges and politicians is rare. “But here, we’re neighbors with the Parliament. We can talk openly. There’s no influence—just dialogue.”
He recalls constructive relationships with both current and former ministers of justice and prime ministers. One hope he carries is that Parliament and Government will prioritize victims’ rights more fully: “That need exists, and it needs to be reflected in legislation.”
Wouters also has good and warm relationships with the Governors on Statia and Saba. He invested in having good contacts with them and the people on these islands. He is very proud that the Joint Court opened in 2023 own courthouses there.
He feels privileged that he also was able to serve the Statian and Saban people in his role as (chief) judge. Still, not everything was easy. Wouters speaks openly about being hurt when his management style was criticized. “I know I can be direct and firm, and culturally that’s not always accepted.”
This became a further lesson in cultural awareness and societal differences for him. The experience, though harsh at the time, is now a symbolic takeaway for Wouters.
The Cycling Judge
His connection to the people extends well beyond the courthouse. Known affectionately by some as “the judge on the bicycle,” Wouters often chats with community members—including a taxi driver nicknamed Cobra, who is often stationed outside of the courthouse.
“He regularly asked me to get Theo [Heyliger] released. He knows I can’t, but he feels free enough to ask. And, that's important.” “My wife and I will deeply miss Sint Maarten. We had a tremendous time working and living on this friendly island. The way we, on Sint Maarten, greet each other, the sense of connection. I run into lawyers, prosecutors and clients, even in the supermarket, and some of them will say, ‘Your Honour’ or ‘Goodmorning Judge’.
That’s not necessary outside the courthouse—but it shows mutual respect and a feeling that we’re all part of the same community. Sint Maarten, you are in my heart and under my skin!”.
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