As the world marks the In­ter­na­tion­al Day of Peace to­mor­row, the Caribbean must take stock of one of its great­est achieve­ments: the preser­va­tion of this re­gion as a zone of peace.

For decades, the Caribbean has avoid­ed the in­ter­state wars and mil­i­tari­sa­tion that af­flict many oth­er parts of the globe. Through mul­ti­lat­er­al­ism, pa­tient diplo­ma­cy and a shared com­mit­ment to sov­er­eign­ty, the small is­land and coastal states in this part of the world have built a buffer of sta­bil­i­ty.

This idea was cod­i­fied in the 1979 Ha­vana De­c­la­ra­tion on the Caribbean as a Zone of Peace and reaf­firmed re­peat­ed­ly by Cari­com, the As­so­ci­a­tion of Caribbean States and CELAC. It af­firms the col­lec­tive right of cit­i­zens in this re­gion to live free from mil­i­tary in­ter­ven­tion, co­er­cion and the dump­ing of haz­ardous waste, while com­mit­ting to the peace­ful set­tle­ment of dis­putes and good neigh­bourli­ness.

But this sta­tus can­not be tak­en for grant­ed. The Caribbean now sits on the edge of ex­ter­nal ri­val­ries that could un­der­mine that hard-won peace. The long-sim­mer­ing ten­sions be­tween the Unit­ed States and Venezuela are a prime ex­am­ple. Wash­ing­ton ac­cus­es Cara­cas of har­bour­ing drug car­tels and un­der­min­ing democ­ra­cy; Cara­cas ac­cus­es Wash­ing­ton of eco­nom­ic war­fare and plot­ting regime change.

Re­cent in­ci­dents un­der­score the dan­ger. A dead­ly strike on Sep­tem­ber 2 on a boat the Trump ad­min­is­tra­tion claimed had de­part­ed Venezuela car­ry­ing drugs and mem­bers of the Tren de Aragua gang, fol­lowed by an­oth­er in­ter­dic­tion last Mon­day that re­port­ed­ly killed three peo­ple on a ves­sel al­leged­ly car­ry­ing nar­cotics from Venezuela, have raised alarms. So too has the build-up of US mar­itime forces in Caribbean wa­ters, which forces were re­spon­si­ble for the two afore­men­tioned at­tacks. These ac­tions threat­en the re­gion’s peace and chal­lenge its neu­tral­i­ty.

The risk be­comes sharp­er when re­gion­al lead­ers take sides in ways that ap­pear to en­dorse mil­i­tary or covert ac­tion. Prime Min­is­ter Kam­la Per­sad-Bisses­sar’s vo­cal sup­port for what was wide­ly re­port­ed as a US cam­paign against Venezue­lan drug car­tels drew crit­i­cism across the re­gion. Op­po­nents warned that such a stance could com­pro­mise T&T’s neu­tral­i­ty, mak­ing it a pawn in a much larg­er geopo­lit­i­cal con­test and invit­ing re­tal­ia­to­ry pres­sure from Cara­cas.

Whether or not one ac­cepts that char­ac­ter­i­sa­tion, the episode un­der­lines how frag­ile the “zone of peace” con­sen­sus can be if ex­ter­nal con­flicts are im­port­ed in­to re­gion­al pol­i­tics.

If the Caribbean is to re­main a zone of peace, gov­ern­ments must reaf­firm their com­mit­ment to non-in­ter­ven­tion and re­sist pres­sures—no mat­ter how well-in­ten­tioned—to par­tic­i­pate in mil­i­tary cam­paigns or in­tel­li­gence op­er­a­tions aimed at neigh­bours. In­stead, the re­gion should dou­ble down on con­fi­dence-build­ing mea­sures: joint mar­itime pa­trols against drug traf­fick­ing un­der clear mul­ti­lat­er­al rules, trans­par­ent in­for­ma­tion-shar­ing, and col­lec­tive state­ments that favour diplo­ma­cy over force.

At the same time, the un­der­ly­ing dri­vers of in­se­cu­ri­ty—or­gan­ised crime, arms and drug traf­fick­ing traf­fick­ing, youth un­em­ploy­ment, and cli­mate-dri­ven dis­as­ters—must be ad­dressed as threats to peace in their own right.

Peace is not sim­ply the ab­sence of war. It is a pos­i­tive state of jus­tice, eq­ui­ty, and sus­tain­able de­vel­op­ment.

It is not too late — the Caribbean can con­tin­ue to serve as an oa­sis of sta­bil­i­ty in a tur­bu­lent world. In­ter­na­tion­al Day of Peace 2025 is an op­por­tu­ni­ty for Caribbean lead­ers and cit­i­zens to recom­mit to that vi­sion.

By keep­ing this re­gion out of great-pow­er ri­val­ries and fo­cus­ing on co­op­er­a­tive se­cu­ri­ty, the Caribbean of­fers the world a liv­ing ex­am­ple of how small states can col­lec­tive­ly up­hold peace in tur­bu­lent times.