There was a time when political rivalries in Antigua and Barbuda were fierce but bounded by one sacred principle: that politics must stop at the water’s edge—at the shoreline of our 365 beaches. No matter how heated the domestic debate, we understood that when it came to defending our nation’s reputation abroad, we spoke with one voice. Sadly, that era has passed.

The modern United Progressive Party (UPP), under the shadowy influence of its chairman, Gisele Isaac, has abandoned those principles. The UPP of today is not the party of constructive opposition. It is a political machine fueled by resentment, driven by desperation, and animated by betrayal—willing to sell out Antigua and Barbuda on the international stage for the mere scent of political power.

Nowhere was this more shamelessly displayed than in the recent overseas protest staged in Washington, D.C., where members of the UPP sought to tarnish the name of our country before the international community. Masked as “activism,” their true aim was unmistakable: to destabilize the current administration by undermining Antigua and Barbuda’s reputation abroad. Their target was not only the Prime Minister but the very fabric of our nation’s credibility.

Their tactics? Aligning with foreign actors to file baseless subpoenas against Prime Minister Gaston Browne and his family—subpoenas that have now been dismissed by a U.S. court for lack of merit. In that decision, justice triumphed not only for an individual but for an entire country that was being dragged through the mud for political sport.

Let us be clear: this was not whistleblowing; it was sabotage. These were not patriots but political operatives engaged in a form of modern political treachery—a betrayal of national sovereignty disguised as accountability.

One need not promote violence to say plainly that treachery remains one of the most heinous violations of public trust. Nations must have laws, and the enforcement of those laws must include the capacity to hold accountable anyone who conspires—domestically or internationally—to betray the state.

Loyalty to country is not optional; it is foundational. And in cases like these, where the intent is to weaken national unity and invite foreign interference, strong legal consequences must follow.

We are witnessing the dangerous evolution of a party once known for its populist roots into an organization driven by vindictiveness and scorched-earth tactics. The UPP today is not guided by policy, vision, or national pride—it is built on a pillar of hate, constructed plank by plank under the watchful eye of Gisele Isaac and others like Alister Thomas, Chaku Symister, Jaqui Quinn, and Franz DeFreitas, who have made it their mission not to build Antigua and Barbuda but to burn it down in order to rule over its ashes.

Is this the future we want for our children? A future where political ambition is greater than patriotism? Where our country’s name is a bargaining chip for failed politicians clinging to relevance? What about the old concept: country before party? That portraiture rooted in cultural calypso?

Let us be wise. Let us be vigilant. Let us preserve our political culture, where disagreements remain within the borders, not exported abroad like weapons of mass reputation destruction. Antigua and Barbuda deserves better. Our people deserve better. And history will remember those who stood to defend her from within.

So, yes, let’s find a better use for the Recreation Grounds—not as a battleground for bitter politics or a stage for civil chaos, but as a place where our democracy can be celebrated, not defiled. Let it be a space where we gather in pride, not in protest orchestrated by betrayal.

March them around the grounds and “boo” them with the same intensity that we cheer for Brian Lara’s record-breaking centuries! Then let’s revoke their license to practice politics in Antigua. We can then jam to Chiki-Hifi playing Burning Flames and afterward sing King Onyan’s “Stand Up for Antigua.”

And let it remind us always that no political party is above the nation it seeks to serve.

The time has come to reclaim Antigua and Barbuda’s dignity—and to hold accountable those who would sell it for thirty pieces of silver.