There may be few in the region better placed to speak on Caribbean integration than Julian Rogers. A Barbadian by birth who now calls Belize home, Rogers has lived, worked, and told stories across the length and breadth of the Caribbean — from Montserrat to Trinidad, Jamaica, and Saint Lucia. His life, in many ways, has been shaped by the same movement that CARICOM is now trying to formalise.
So when the veteran broadcaster and regional commentator describes the newly adopted CARICOM Free Movement initiative as “music to my ears”, it carries the weight of experience.
“We’ve been trying to do this since 1947,” he said. “We wanted free movement across the entire Caribbean — the ability to move, work, set up business, raise your family, and feel that you are home no matter where you are. That really is the heart of it.”
On October 1, four countries — Belize, Dominica, St Vincent and the Grenadines, and Barbados — became the first to fully implement CARICOM’s Free Movement regime, allowing citizens to live and work freely across their borders. Rogers calls them “the quartet in this choir of the Caribbean”, adding that their example sends “a clear, harmonious message about regional unity.”
For Rogers, the milestone was personal.
“When I arrive at the airport here in Belize, I don’t worry about whether I have a six-month stamp or a CSME stamp. My passport is now stamped as a free movement person. I’m entitled to all the benefits of a citizen. No hassle. You accept us as one of you. We are all one family.”
But if the goal is so clear, why have 11 out of the 15 countries hesitated? Rogers believes much of the caution stems more from bureaucracy than any real risk.
“Any hesitation may be on the basis that, oh, maybe we don’t have the legislation in place,” he said. “But that really doesn’t make sense. We’ve implemented many measures across the region administratively. You agree today, you act tomorrow, and Parliament follows.”
In the lead-up to the rollout of the CARICOM Free Movement initiative, public concern grew in some territories, particularly in Barbados, where critics warned of a potential influx of migrants once borders opened. According to Barbados TODAY, those fears even sparked online debate and calls for tighter controls. But as Julian Rogers explains, the reality has been far quieter.
“Some people in Barbados were predicting there’d be a tonne load of people invading. Let’s face it — in the first week, there were ten. People don’t just get up and move unless they have a job, a school for their children, and a way to sustain themselves. That’s the reality,” he said.
For Rogers, the value of free movement isn’t measured only in trade or policy — it lies in the lived experience of mobility itself. Having built a career that’s taken him across the Caribbean, he sees freedom of movement as a bridge to opportunity, particularly for the region’s youth who now have the chance to live, work, and learn beyond their home shores.
“I moved out of Barbados when I was 20 and I haven’t regretted it. I’ve been able to work in several countries. This is an opportunity for young people — really and truly — to explore the Caribbean,” he said.
He notes that economies have changed dramatically since the old “big four versus small states” debates. Today, a country like Belize, rich in land and agriculture, can complement smaller, tourism-heavy nations such as Barbados or Antigua, creating “a cycle of trade, skills and innovation” that benefits all.
Still, freedom of movement will be a test of how well the system actually works. What makes movement truly “free” is not just the promise of access, but the ease with which people can cross borders and settle into new communities. While some question whether immigration and labour systems are ready, Rogers insists the region is far more prepared than critics realise.
“I’ve seen it work. Every time I arrive in Jamaica, immigration officers say, ‘Welcome home.’ And in Belize, the officer literally went and got the new stamp. It’s happening. CARICOM has conducted deepening exercises with all the relevant officials — immigration, customs, education — to make this as seamless as possible,” he said.
On a more sobering note, the rollout of free movement comes at a time when cracks in CARICOM’s unity are becoming more visible — most notably, the recent diplomatic tensions between Trinidad and Tobago and Venezuela, further complicated by the involvement of the United States. Yet rather than a reason for division, Rogers views this as a reminder of why regional solidarity remains essential.
“We have a reason for standing together,” he said. “I don’t like to see one country fighting up with another in the open. That’s why we have diplomacy. Pick up the phone, get on a plane, and sort it out.”
He argues that the CARICOM experiment has already proven its worth, through disaster response coordination, pandemic management via CARPHA, and access to justice through the Caribbean Court of Justice.
“We are one Caribbean. Everyone outside the region sees us as one. In a family, there will always be a little squabbling, but we can fix these things.”
He insists that despite the bumps, the region has never been closer to the dream of borderless Caribbean living.
“We are closer now than we’ve ever been. The OECS has shown us the way,” he said, recalling how the 2007 Cricket World Cup briefly made such travel a reality. “If we could do it then, why can’t we do it for ourselves?”
His message, ultimately, is one of readiness and resolve:
“This is our region, man. Let’s work on it now.”
