PHILIPSBURG:--- For weeks, SMN News has been closely following the unfolding bribery case against former Member of Parliament (MP) Rolando Brison, a case that has now reached a critical juncture. Brison, the outspoken former leader of the United People’s (UP) Party, was arrested in March 2023 as part of the “Lissabon” investigation, detained for less than 24 hours, and released—yet he remains a suspect. Since then, the Public Prosecutor’s Office (OM) has questioned him only once, leaving the case in a frustrating limbo. After months of Brison pushing the OM to either drop the charges or bring the matter to court, it appears the latter path has been chosen. This development offers Brison a long-awaited opportunity to present evidence that he insists will dismantle the prosecution’s narrative and clear his name.
What makes this case particularly compelling is not just the accusations leveled against Brison but the eerie parallels it shares with the high-profile case of Richard de Mos, a Dutch MP in The Hague who faced similar bribery allegations—only to be fully acquitted. SMN News has conducted its own investigation into the facts, uncovering striking similarities that raise serious questions about the OM’s handling of political cases, a track record marked by prolonged delays, frequent acquittals, and a seeming inability to secure convictions against public figures.
A Prosecutor’s History of Stumbling in Political Cases
Much like its counterparts in the Netherlands, the OM in Sint Maarten has a well-documented history of struggling with politically charged prosecutions. High-profile cases against MPs and public officials often stretch on for years, bogged down by procedural delays and insufficient evidence, only to collapse in court. In the Netherlands, Richard de Mos’s case is a prime example. Accused in 2019 of bribery and corruption for allegedly trading political favors for party donations, de Mos endured a grueling legal battle that lasted until 2023, when a district court acquitted him and his co-defendants. The court lambasted the prosecution’s case as speculative, lacking concrete proof of malicious intent. Even on appeal in 2024, the OM’s push for suspended jail time and fines fell apart, with the higher court affirming that legitimate, documented transactions—such as dinners with businessmen or campaign contributions—do not inherently constitute bribes.
Brison’s case mirrors this pattern. Arrested in 2023 on suspicion of bribery and abuse of office, he was released swiftly, suggesting the OM lacked immediate grounds to hold him. Since then, the investigation has crawled along, with Brison facing just one additional questioning session. This sluggish pace aligns with the OM’s tendency to let political cases languish, perhaps hoping suspects will settle to avoid prolonged scrutiny. Yet Brison has defied this playbook, refusing to let the case drag on in silence or accept a plea that implies guilt. Instead, he’s demanded a courtroom showdown—a bold move that could expose the prosecution’s weaknesses and echo de Mos’s vindication.
The SXM Festival and Gehani: Bribery or Socializing?
At the heart of the OM’s case against Brison is his attendance at the SXM Festival alongside Gehani, a St. Kitts businessman. The prosecution suggests that Brison enjoying drinks and festival perks with Gehani amounts to a bribe. But is it? SMN News dug into the details, and the facts paint a different picture. Brison’s interactions with Gehani were not clandestine; they were open social engagements—hardly the stuff of backroom deals. In de Mos’s case, the Dutch courts grappled with a similar question: does an MP dining with a businessman, absent evidence of a quid pro quo, constitute corruption? The Hague’s judges resoundingly said no, ruling that such interactions, when transparent and lacking illicit intent, are not criminal.
Brison’s situation begs the same scrutiny. He has welcomed a judge’s review of these “hard facts,” confident that a court will see no evidence of bribery in what appears to be routine socializing. The OM’s insistence on framing this as corruption risks overreach, a misstep that could unravel in court just as it did for de Mos.
Robbie dos Santos and the Banking Law Puzzle
Another perplexing element of the case is the OM’s claim that Brison championed banking law reforms to benefit Robbie dos Santos, a businessman convicted of financial crimes tied to his lottery operations. The prosecution alleges Brison’s legislative efforts were a favor to help dos Santos secure a bank account. Yet SMN News reviewed the draft legislation Brison proposed, and the evidence contradicts this narrative. The law explicitly states that individuals with financial crime convictions—like dos Santos, who faced penalties for SMS-based lottery sales but no jail time—are ineligible for basic bank accounts. How, then, could Brison’s work have benefited dos Santos when it explicitly excludes him?
This discrepancy is glaring. A judge poring over the legislation could quickly see that the OM’s theory doesn’t hold water. Brison’s transparency in drafting and promoting this law further undermines the prosecution’s case, offering yet another piece of hard evidence that could clear his name.
Cryptocurrency Advocacy: Transparency, Not Trickery
Brison’s public push for cryptocurrency regulation adds another layer to this saga. Far from engaging in shady, under-the-table deals, Brison has been vocal and upfront about his belief in crypto’s potential for Sint Maarten. He openly stated that he would be converting a part of his own salary into bitcoin and has consistently advocated for laws to regulate the industry—hardly the actions of someone seeking to enable criminal activity. If Brison aimed to use crypto for illicit purposes, why would he champion oversight that makes such schemes harder to execute? And if he was also so open about his personal use of crypto, is it not logical that Brison would trade this cryptocurrency with many other local traders and internationally? The OM seems to have added up all of his crypto savings from his own hard-earned salary, despite it clearly coming from there, and adding up to a nice sound number $30,000. This is equivalent to Brison just saving 10% of his salary into crypto over the period of the investigation, just as he said publicly he would be doing. Again, a judge now has the chance to see the wallet transactions, his own withdrawals from his salary to crypto, to counter any such accusations.
His transaction records, openly shared, stand as more concrete evidence for a judge to review. This transparency contrasts sharply with the OM’s insinuations, aligning Brison’s case with de Mos’s, where documented, legitimate activities were misconstrued as corrupt until proven otherwise in court.
Brison’s Strategy: Fight, Don’t Flee
Unlike many defendants in political cases who stonewall, refuse to cooperate, or drag proceedings out for years in hopes of lighter sentences, Brison has taken a different tack. He could have settled, admitting wrongdoing to end the ordeal, but he’s chosen to fight. In both his interrogations, SMN News understood that after providing all the answers to the questions and proof, his last statement to them was to either stop this charade or take him to court. By insisting the OM bring the case to court, he’s betting on a judge’s ability to sift through the evidence and see the truth. This approach sets him apart from the norm in Sint Maarten and the Netherlands, where prolonged legal battles often favor the prosecution’s pressure tactics over substantive justice.
While Brison offered all the facts—on the festival, the banking law, and Brison’s crypto stance—to the OM, yet the prosecution has pressed forward, leaving it to a judge to decide. For Brison, this is the chance he’s been waiting for: a public airing of the facts to dismantle the OM’s narrative and restore his reputation.
A Legacy at Stake
No one disputes Rolando Brison’s work ethic. Love or loathe him, he’s widely regarded as one of Sint Maarten’s most dedicated parliamentarians. His 2023 arrest undeniably damaged his political career, contributing to his failure to win re-election. With this case heading to court, Brison’s refusal to settle or let it fester could be his path to redemption. If the parallels with Richard de Mos hold, and a judge rules in his favor, Brison may clear his name and expose the OM’s pattern of mishandling political cases—a legacy worth fighting for.
As this case unfolds, one thing is certain: the courtroom will be the crucible where hard evidence meets prosecutorial claims, and Sint Maarten will be watching.
