The sudden dismantling and removal of the United States military-grade radar system from the ANR Robinson International Airport in Crown Point raises a fundamental question: what, exactly, did T&T gain from its presence?
For months, the structure rotated at the site, seen as a powerful new tool in the fight against drug trafficking and gun smuggling in the southern Caribbean. Now it is gone almost as quickly as it arrived.
The radar, installed by US Marines last November, was introduced during a period of heightened regional security concerns. Government officials said the sophisticated system would enhance T&T’s surveillance capabilities and help detect aircraft and vessels suspected of transporting narcotics, particularly along routes linked to neighbouring Venezuela.
At first glance, the arrangement appeared beneficial. This country faces a persistent flow of illegal firearms and narcotics, and limited resources make it difficult to effectively monitor T&T’s maritime borders. Defence officials even described the radar as “far superior” to existing local systems and capable of integrating with satellite communications and drone technology.
But with the radar now dismantled and set to leave Tobago, the public is left wondering what tangible benefits remain.
Was this system ever truly integrated into T&T’s security infrastructure? Or was it simply a temporary component of a broader United States operation in the region and Venezuela in particular?
If the radar cost approximately US$3 million per day to operate, as sources indicate, it is difficult to imagine that such an expensive system was deployed merely as a short-term gesture of assistance. Its removal suggests that whatever capabilities it offered were never meant to be permanent.
Did this country simply host an advanced foreign military asset for several months without any enduring improvement to national security?
Equally concerning is the manner in which the radar’s installation unfolded.
Initial explanations from the Government suggested that US personnel were assisting with airport infrastructure works. Only later did it emerge that a sophisticated ground and air surveillance radar was being installed. Even the Tobago House of Assembly acknowledged that it learned about the system only after public comments from Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar.
The radar arrived at a time of heightened geopolitical tensions in the region. Venezuela accused T&T of allowing the island to be used as a platform for US operations and diplomatic friction followed. While Government officials repeatedly insisted that the radar was intended solely for crime-fighting and surveillance, the episode demonstrated how easily T&T could become entangled in larger geopolitical dynamics.
Now, as US personnel depart and the radar disappears from Tobago’s landscape, it is reasonable for citizens to ask whether the country assumed unnecessary diplomatic and political risks for benefits that may have been temporary at best.
This country needs stronger border surveillance and better tools to combat the illegal trafficking that fuels crime and violence. But sustainable security must be built on systems we control, maintain and operate ourselves.
If the radar’s brief stay in Tobago did not leave behind meaningful improvements to our own capabilities, then the episode will stand as a reminder of how easily strategic decisions can occur without sufficient transparency or long-term planning.
The radar is gone, but T&T must not let essential questions about our security and sovereignty fade with it.
