Leave It For The Locals

Examining Neocolonialism in Belize

Photo by Meritt Thomas on Unsplash

Colonialism: Then and Now

Belize has a rich cultural history dating back thousands of years. First inhabited by the nomadic hunter-gathering Paleoindians, the country became one of the seats of Mayan culture across southern Mexico and Central America. The Maya thrived for more than two and a half millennia before their eventual demise at the hands of Spanish conquest in the 16th century. Belize (not known by the name at the time) and its geographical neighbours became a contested zone between the settled Spanish and an encroaching British, with the latter prevailing in the closing years of the eighteenth century and becoming colonial occupiers of British Honduras until 1973 and Belize until 1981. As a result, the country is home to a diverse population of indigenous peoples, descendants of occupiers, and foreign transplants from all over the world.

A New Age of Colonialism in Belize

While the historical European oppressors vacated decades and centuries ago and the 'ism' no longer resembles redcoats and powdered wigs, a new age of colonialism is alive and well in Belize. The vestiges of exploitation and subjugation smolder like embers in the ashes of once 'great' empires, now fanned by enterprising foreigners flocking to the country to reap the benefits of real estate sales, property management, and land development. As the historical captors of the nation once leveraged their wealth and freedom of movement to garnish national resources from their rightful owners, these new-age colonizers do so, too. They use their foreign assets to rug-pull the profitable industries right out from under the foot of the nationals. Evidence of this is everywhere in the country and seen as so commonplace that most actors have no idea they are complacent in taking over the nation's vital assets.

Setting Things Straight

Now, before I venture too far down the road of criticizing the foreign diaspora for their economic invasion, I want to point out and clarify a few things before some Facebook group participants lose their shit over my opinions.

A Global Issue

Yes, I am a foreigner and an immigrant. I purchased land, moved here, and built a home. I contributed to the rise of property values in this beautiful country. This, however, is not a Belizean issue but a global one: I have watched Chinese and Russian nationals buy up properties in Canada (my home country) for the past two decades. Where the buyers are from is ultimately beside the point, the key being that global wealth migration and gentrification are happening in Canada, too—and elsewhere in the developed world—similarly to what's occurring in developing nations.¹

Recently, the government of Canada placed a two-year ban on the purchase of residential properties by foreign buyers (with a possible two-year extension) in an attempt to keep housing affordable and available to Canadian nationals. It's not the first time they've attempted to limit the activity of foreign interests either, as many Canadians will remember the foreigner buyer tax implementation in the mid-2010s, which still stands today. In the province of Ontario, where I was born and raised, a non-Canadian can expect to pay an additional 25% of the purchase price. But just like in Belize, those who come to buy land can typically afford the added fees, and quite often, such measures fail to stem the flow of foreign buyers. All this is to say that I feel for the Belizean people. I understand—if only vague as I don't know the added trouble of poverty and low income, coming from a middle-class North American family—what it's like to see national property prices creep, in some cases, hockey stick, out of reach.

The GOBs Role

The Belizean government doesn’t have clean hands in the matter. Their complicity in the modern conquest against its people is just a mirror image of an age-old scenario in which a nation's ruling class, through corruption and personal ambition, allows themselves to be pressured or paid off by foreign interests for their gain. To some degree, you can't blame them—it must be enticing to the government official who is offered a bribe, perk, or other financial incentive in exchange for pushing someone else's agenda. How would you react to the opportunity to pull your family from generational poverty or historically low income by a foreigner with more money than you can imagine? The carrot of wealth dangled in the noses of a country's gatekeepers has always played a critical role in the subjugation of one group of people to benefit another.

Despite their shortcomings and limited resources, the Government of Belize has done a great job keeping the commercialization of the tourism industry at bay. Unlike Mexico and other Caribbean nations like Jamaica, Barbados, and Saint Lucia, Belize doesn't have many corporate hotel or resort chains, keeping the negative impact of these entities out of the country. There aren't any all-inclusive Riu or Sandals resorts, where, despite being in a specific country, you wouldn't necessarily know it, as branding ensures each location is the same as the next. The boutique-style resorts here add to this country's charm and help to protect its environment. The lack of commercialization was part of what drew my family and me here. Nevertheless, Belize has the foreignization of its hotel industry in common with its Caribbean neighbours, as outsiders typically have the privilege of being wealthy enough to afford to buy or build a resort.

A Tale of Two Immigrants

I realize that there is—perhaps you could call it a double standard—a stark juxtaposition between the immigrant who moves to a developed country and achieves success and the "Westerner" who moves to a developing nation and does the same. The former is an underdog story—they pull themselves from dire circumstances to achieve a better standard of living; the latter feels like advantage-taking.

Perhaps this is the distinguishing factor in new-age colonialism: just as the 16th and 17th centuries imperialist nations spread out with vast wealth already in hand, intending to take unrealized fortunes from others, the well-to-do foreigner moving to Belize does the same. Let’s face it: most foreigners who come here are pretty well off; you have to be; it's part of the immigration requirement. I am not the only one to point this out. In her thoughtfully written article The Great American Exodus, Lily Pond writes that she sees foreigners "looking to live 'life on the cheap' overseas as 'neo-colonialists.'"

A Wide Brush but a Small Group

Lastly, I would like to clarify that many foreign nationals and immigrants in Belize are respectful and have come here to enjoy retirement or a simpler life. Many don't work here and contribute to the Belizean economy by spending earnestly saved money from their home countries. Even some who work a boots-on-the-ground job here, in industries I feel should be Belizean only (which I get to below), routinely give back to the country in meaningful ways, providing jobs, donating resources, and creating institutions that may not otherwise exist. Their presence adds value to the country and helps offset their industries' inherent downsides.

It Doesn't Take Many

However, a small group was responsible for executing the colonialism of old; the entire population of Spain or England didn't need to land in Belize to significantly influence the region and its inhabitants.

The Face of Neocolonialism in Belize

The Oxford Dictionary defines neocolonialism as "the use of economic, political, cultural, or other pressures to control or influence other countries…" This definition accurately describes the actions of foreign nationals in Belize, especially those who set up businesses that directly compete with or take potential employment from Belizeans. While they may not overtly plunder natural resources like in the old days, they take over profitable industries like real estate, construction, land development, and property management.

The Real State of Real Estate

I don't know the exact statistics on this, but I'm willing to estimate that 80% or more of Belize's established real estate brokerages are non-Belizean. Therefore, much of the commissions made—which are pretty high, mind you—from the sale of Belizean properties don't end up in the hands of nationals but in the bank accounts of companies owned by outsiders. That doesn't sit right with me, especially when you consider the fact that it's a historically corrupt industry in Belize, with land development fraud perpetrated by out-of-country entities and sold by alien agents. I'm sure we are all aware of Sanctuary Belize, one of the country's most well-known real estate scams with a landmark FTC ruling in the US. The key point here is that corruption perpetrated by foreigners is a classic characteristic of colonialism. An article I came across in the HAL archives, Corruption, Empire and Colonialism in the Modern Era, paints a strikingly similar picture. The authors write:

“Scandal, corruption, exploitation and abuse of power have been linked to the history of modern empire-building. Colonial territories often became promised lands where individuals sought to make quick fortunes, sometimes in collaboration with the local population but more often at the expense of them. On some occasions, these shady dealings resulted in scandals that reached back to the metropolis…"

I suppose a case could be made for having foreign real estate agents set up shop in a country where English isn’t the primary language. In this case, foreign agents provide a service to buyers who also don’t speak the language. Again, I recognize the inherent neocolonial implications of foreigners selling another country. But Belize is an English-speaking nation, and while it is trilingual, I can converse with most of the Belizeans I meet, and anyone interested in buying land here can, too.

After bearing witness to it, I can’t help but feel that Belize's real estate industry is a bit ridiculous: it’s unregulated, fraught with scandal, and filled with innumerable expat agents who fail to put any standards or regulations in place for themselves. They demand commission rates that are 60% higher than what you would pay in North America when the job mainly consists of fielding inbound inquiries from people on vacation. It lacks professionalism and trust because anyone can claim to be an agent and start selling property. The foreign monopoly tarnishes the industry name and restricts a significant economic source from reaching the Belizean people due to its exclusivity. As mentioned above, I am guilty—and regretful—of perpetuating this system, having used an American real estate agent to purchase my lot. Had I understood the implications of what I was doing—and had the knowledge of alternative avenues that I do now—I would have pursued different options.

Management By The People

Probably the most insidious case of new-age colonialism is property management. The government attempted to secure this industry for its people by stipulating that all property managers must have residency status. The BTB has also made hiring a property manager mandatory for all hoteliers, directly linking property management to this arm of the tourism industry. For context, tourism is a significant source of the country's GDP, accounting for nearly half of what the country earns annually. It's an essential economic engine for its people, but how much of that is being siphoned away by the neocolonialist agenda?

I can't help but feel this policy failed. Now, foreign-owned management companies service foreign-owned property owners, completely excluding locals from profiting from managing the country's copious vacation rental income. Instead, nationals are relegated to cleaning, raking, and turning over units. Those who manage to operate a business in this space must compete with expats who have direct connections to a large pool of clientele.

I see this all over. Someone, please explain why a retirement-aged American woman needs to work a property management job in Placencia. Someone like this exists in my neighbourhood—I featured her personality in my Angry Expat piece. In addition to routinely cursing me out for having my dogs off leash on a public beach—"Her beach" apparently; an attitude brimming with neocolonialist overtones—she also actively takes a job from a capable Belizean. If you aren't a national, you shouldn't be allowed to touch this industry, plain and simple.

Impending Backlash

Now, I imagine someone reading this is already gearing up to fire back: "But not all Belizeans want to sell real estate or manage vacation rentals!" And that’s fair. Just because an industry exists doesn’t mean locals are lining up to work in it. But we aren't discussing a lack of interest but a lack of access. How do Belizeans compete if foreign-owned real estate firms dominate the market, with property management companies run by expats catering exclusively to foreign homeowners? Foreigners selling to foreigners and hiring other foreigners to manage foreign-owned properties seems like a closed loop to me.

Construction Industry Scorn

Construction and development are also significant seats of neocolonialism.² Contemporary research deems Western-style development a self-serving political weapon that “destroys domestic economies, impoverishes the vast majority, and further pushes borrowing nations into the abyss of debt."

Just like property management, I can't help but feel that this line of business should only be available to nationals. It’s an industry near and dear to me, as I spent nearly two decades in it in Canada. It seems crucial to me that the self-determined development of a nation should be done by its people—especially one as small as Belize. While it was tough to compete with thousands of other home builders and remodelers in Canada—nothing hard work and a solid reputation wouldn't overcome—there were millions of people living in my area of operation. There was plenty of work to go around.

It’s critical to understand that the population of Belize is 30% smaller than the city I lived in before moving, which isn't considered big, even by Canadian standards. And Canada doesn’t have big cities compared to those on an international level: Tokyo, for example—albeit the most populated city in the world—has almost the same population as my home country. Yes, Belize is growing and developing, and there are more opportunities for employment as a result, but not to the extent of, say Mexico. But then again, their population is 322 times larger than Belize.

All this is to say that Belize is tiny. Setting up shop here and pandering to people who share your origins breeds resentment among the locals because it's evident that you are taking their jobs. Unlike in the Canadian construction industry, there isn't plenty to go around.

An Inherent Bias

I am aware of my bias here. I have an extensive construction background and designed and built my home from scratch. Essentially, I don't need to hire anyone to build anything for me if it comes down to it. So, it's easy for me to say, “Don't hire a foreigner for your home build in Belize,” when you are challenged to find someone trustworthy to work on your project. Yet, I should point out that when developing my lot, I used a local Belizean contractor and a Belizean prefab home company to assist with the build. And, as obvious as it would be for me to have gone into construction for employment here, I decided against it. It seems disingenuous to profit off the development of a country I don't hold a passport for and am a newcomer to. I recently turned down an opportunity to assist with a development project here in Belize—oddly enough, this occurred on the same day I wrote this; perhaps the universe was asking me to promptly put my money where my mouth was. Instead of taking the easy route, I (and my wife) opted for the challenge of starting a remote work career in Belize, in an entirely new industry.

Harsh But True

I realize I am coming across as harsh and painting a very black-and-white picture. I'm doing this purposefully to illuminate a very real, albeit muddled grey, situation.

Exceptions for the Exceptional

I fully understand that some exceptions can and should be made for forward-thinking, problem-solving foreigners who invent new products or services or establish new businesses that are the first of their kind. For example, I have friends who have a window coverings company—there isn't another business like it (from what I know), and they have cornered the market. The area needed it, and they had the insight to fill a void.

I also have a friend who roasts coffee, which, surprisingly enough, isn't that large of an industry here, given Belize's proximity to one of the world’s largest coffee growers and exporters. As a former construction worker, I love coffee, and most of what you find packaged in the stores here is pretty bad. His coffee is probably the best in the country, so even though a foreigner produces it, it brings unmatched value. He also employs locals, even though his operation is small.

Another business that comes to mind is the school my children attend. It's a private institution run by a fellow Canadian that educates Belizean and international students alike. The school hires local and international teachers. Like the other businesses mentioned above, it doesn't harm local industry or leverage its privilege to its advantage. Instead, it fosters inclusivity while providing a value-added service that fills a void in a relatively small community.

Exceptions can also be made for those who can inject much-needed capital into a budding industry. However, this needs to happen in a more regulated and structured way. Admittedly, I'm no economist or business wizard, but the country could benefit from a resource pool or platform on which interested foreign investors can partner with enterprising nationals.³ The platform could be like a Belizean version of the Angel Investment Network meets Novetur. Belizeans with viable business ideas can pitch their plans to receive funding from willing foreign investors. Conversely, foreigners with a business idea and funds can connect with nationals willing to execute the idea. Perhaps the fund can guarantee a modest return for those fronting capital and even include a profit-sharing model so both sides can reap the rewards. A system like this could ensure that Belizeans see meaningful returns on domestically run businesses without being pushed out of the market because of international economic and income disparities, which are natural barriers to entry.

A Fine Line Between Exploitation and Contribution

There is a fine line to tread here. This type of thinking is a slippery slope and a hop-skip-and-jump for justifying significant resource exploitation: "I had the insight to plow the jungle to get to that natural mineral deposit” or “I thought it cool to terraform a mountain to make it look like the Hollywood hills”—destroying a community's source of spring water in the process. True story.

But where’s the line? At what point does foreign involvement shift from contributing to an outright economic takeover? The key is ensuring that wealth generated in Belize is by Belizeans—that locals aren’t pushed to the margins of their economy while outsiders extract the profits.

Can We Remove Ourselves From the Problem?

So, what can we, as immigrants and foreigners in Belize, do to limit our participation in neocolonialism? Apart from going home or no longer coming here—which isn’t a realistic option—I think there are things we can do.

Because You Can, Doesn't Mean You Should

If you want to limit your neocolonialist footprint when you come here, don't participate in industries already pushing out local interests. Unless you can redefine, improve, or meaningfully shake it up, stay out. In a country with a population of four hundred thousand, how many foreigner-operated brokerages, property managers, and construction companies do you need? As I already explained, it's a tiny country in terms of population. The availability of jobs and employment industries matter. And foreigners have essentially taken over the most profitable. So when you come here, think outside the box. Bring something new to the country if you plan to work and occupy employment space. If you genuinely love and respect Belize, don't seek employment in the abovementioned industries. It's not our country; Belizeans should be responsible for selling and developing it and reaping the benefits.

Show Respect

If you insist on working in one of these industries, please treat the nationals well. New age colonialism doesn't just have to present itself in economic terms, it also reveals itself in attitude. This past year, I had the unfortunate experience of witnessing a neighbour building a home—one he had no plans to live in but flip—berate his crew on several occasions. I don't know the man personally, and he could have been having a bad week for all I know. But I do know his behaviour over a few days was cringe-worthy. I have two decades of construction experience, led multiple crews, and managed numerous projects at once, and never once did I treat those who worked for me in such a degrading way. His condescending tone towards the workers (locals of course), was shameful. I felt embarrassed to be a part of this community just listening to him. It doesn't matter how much or little you pay someone; they deserve a level of respect that was completely missing in his interactions with his crew. Don't be like that. In addition to making you come across like an asshole, it gives all foreigners a bad name.

Change Your Language

Take Lily Pong’s advice: “If you decide you’re going to live the rest of your life in a foreign country, consider yourself an immigrant instead of an “expat.’” I know this is a hot topic, and it may seem like I'm beating a dead horse, but it's a serious issue. People don't like the word, especially locals the world over, who are surrounded by wealthy foreigners. Regardless of your opinions on the word, the local people you are embedding yourself with evidently don't like it. Just peruse Facebook, and you will see they often use it negatively. It's not just in Belizean; ‘expat’ is a contention term in many countries.

Yet, if you aren't an immigrant but are more than a tourist, like a snowbird, a digital nomad, or someone who takes extended vacations or stays for half the year, come up with something else. Perhaps you can try using “foreigner” instead. The word indicates other origins but is devoid of any economic implications.

Stay Humble

Humble yourself by actively recognizing your privilege. It's so easy to take what we have as developed-nationers for granted. People are poor here, and I don't mean, "John Smith from down the street lost his job, and now he's broke" kind of poor. I mean systemic, "my house doesn't have electricity and running water" poor. In my younger years, I traveled to Laos, one of the three poorest countries in the world at the time, so I’ve witnessed poverty on an extreme level. Yet, as a tourist in Belize, I didn’t get the same sense of the situation, but it does exist.

I've been privileged enough to get to know some great Belizeans during my time here, and they've given me a realization of a way of life I never fathomed existed in this part of the world. For example, a young woman I’ve known for most of our time here can remember when her house in a village near Punta Gorda didn't have power; she's only twenty years old. This type of scenario isn't localized to one area either.

Last year, I had an eye-opening conversation with a worker my neighbour hired to complete maintenance tasks around his house. He told me he sometimes has to miss work to fill jugs at the water truck so his wife and baby can have the crucial resource. His home doesn’t have plumbing, which is a double-edged sword because he must take time off work to ensure he and his family have water. A couple of days after our conversation, he stopped by my home to ask me if he could purchase an old battery-operated drill from me. He just wanted it for the LED light, which he planned to rig directly to the battery so his daughter could complete homework at night. His home also doesn't have electricity. I decided to give him a drill, battery, and charger for free as I have several I don't use regularly—a newly recognized privilege of mine, the privilege of plenty. He charges the battery at job sites during the day so his daughter can continue her education in the evenings. He lives in Santa Cruz, which is not far from my home in Placencia.

Before moving here, I would have never imagined that people in this part of the world wouldn't live without running water or electricity in their homes in the 21st century. It's so commonplace in Canada that I didn't think about it. It's truly a privilege that in-home utilities come standard.

The young lady I mentioned earlier also doesn't have a bank account or a passport, which are two essential assets for living outside your home country. She couldn't leave Belize if she wanted or needed to, at least not without first enduring the lengthy process of applying for these seemingly commonplace personal accouterments most people I know in Canada have from toddlerhood.

A short drive south of me is Seine Bight village. For those who don't know, it's one of several Garifuna communities in Belize, and while on the Placencia peninsula—one of the most foreigner-heavy enclaves in the country—it's pretty poor. It's just down the street from me, and there are one-room shacks smaller than my primary bathroom—and my home isn't big by North American standards—which is one of three bathrooms in my home. The layout of my house may seem commonplace: three bedrooms, three bathrooms. Yes, for North America. That same privilege of plenty. When locals visit my home, I’m often embarrassed by its grandeur, which, compared to many others in the area, pales in comparison.

Once Ignorance and Now Torn

In the excitement of moving abroad, it's easy to forget that our relocation has broader implications beyond our immediate lives. I was indeed ignorant of these facts when I purchased land in Belize, as are many foreigners. And I don't mean to use the word ignorant disparagingly. It was honest, even innocent, ignorance. I hadn't known anyone who lived in such circumstances. It hits close to home now. While I still can't relate to living in such conditions, I can better empathize. So, remember to keep this in mind when you interact with locals and go about your lives in Belize or wherever you choose to live aborad. Understand that for many nationals, life looks very different from what you are used to and probably expect.

I'm torn: while I understand my invasive presence, I don't want to return to Canada either. Despite the hardships we faced moving here, the challenges of establishing new lives in another country, and starting a remote work career in Belize, I don't think leaving is the solution. Diversity breeds opportunity and understanding. While contentious at times, the intermingling of cultures can lead to unity and a global human identity. Ultimately, foreigners need to be more mindful of what it means to leave their home countries to live in another and how that action affects the people who originate in the country we land in.

Final Reflection

We should all strive to think in the manner expressed to me by a realtor back when I was interested in a beachfront property on the north end of Seine Bight: "Leave that for locals," they said. There are just some things that foreigners don't need to be a part of in their new country. We have the resources, education, and privilege to move abroad and start new lives in foreign lands. We should respectfully leave specific industries and employment opportunities for those born there.

It was good advice at the time—too bad that person failed to follow it long-term. Barely a year later, they were selling property in that community—just neocolonialism doing its thing. No doubt hypocrisy is a telltale sign, too.

If you enjoy my writing, you might also like Belize Foreigner Blog, the Lili Art Blog, or my award-receiving book Home in Good Hands. If you'd like to support this Substack and help me keep creating stories and essays about life abroad, consider subscribing, sharing, or making a small donation. And to those who already have—thank you. Your support means the world.

1. I used gentrification to indicate the transition from a preexisting state to an 'elevated’ one. I realize that it usually means the ousting of a low-income community by a higher-income one. In this case, I use it to describe the displacement of average-income earners by wealthy ones.

2. For clarification, I'm not referring to labor positions but business owner roles.

3. To continue with the previous train of thought, I know Belize has BELTRAIDE and the Small Business Development Centre (SBDC), and there are investment opportunities through the Blended Finance Enterprise Fund (BFEF), which is a part of the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). Admittedly, my research was thin here, so I failed to discover how equitable these existing avenues are for locals.