Two Aviation Cases. Two Courts. Two Very Different Outcomes.

It’s rare for aviation-related matters to land in administrative court in our part of the Kingdom –  rarer still for it to happen twice, in summary proceedings, within the same week. Yet that’s exactly what we saw this December.  Two different courts. Two different islands. Two very different approaches. While the facts weren’t identical, the legal issues shared a common thread: what can applicants expect from their regulators when the system slows to a crawl? Only one court engaged that question head-on. The other, in my view, sidestepped it.

I’ll admit a bit of bias here –  but I believe the Court in Sint Maarten handled it exactly as it should have.

Sint Maarten: A Court That Took Responsibility

In the first case, EZ Air –  a Curaçao-based airline –  had waited more than ten months for a decision on its application for a Foreign Air Operator Certificate (FACOP). Without that certificate, it couldn’t fly commercial routes involving Sint Maarten. The aviation authority (SMCAA) had requested information repeatedly but never made a decision. So EZ Air sought relief, arguing that this indefinite delay was effectively a refusal. The Court agreed. It found that the delay constituted a “fictitious refusal” under administrative law and confirmed that the administrative judge had jurisdiction to intervene. Most importantly, it ordered the government to issue a decision within four weeks. The Court didn’t jump to conclusions about how that decision should go. It simply enforced what the rule of law demands: that decisions must be made. And made in time.

Aruba: Procedure Over Substance

In the second case, a foreign investment entity had acquired a business jet through a string of legitimate international transactions. The aircraft had been the subject of a judicially supervised public auction in the European Union, following a court-ordered sale to satisfy outstanding debts. The sale process had been contested – vigorously and unsuccessfully – by the original state owner, with legal challenges reaching all the way to the country’s Supreme Court. None of these challenges prevailed.

When the new owner sought to register the aircraft in Aruba – a jurisdiction that has, for over 30 years, promoted itself as a registry of choice for foreign operators – the local aviation authority (DCA) declined to even process the application. The stated reason? The absence of a formal de-registration certificate from the aircraft’s former state of registry.

The applicant argued that under both domestic and international law and established aviation practice, the aircraft’s registration status had changed in substance: it was no longer listed in a foreign registry, it no longer bore that country’s markings, and the previous authority had ceased exercising any oversight. In their view, the de-registration was effectively complete – even if a formal document had not been (or could not be) obtained. No proof of formal deregistration? Then no need for the Court to get involved in summary proceedings. In the end, the Court never addressed the heart of the dispute –  whether the DCA was right to refuse processing the application in the first place. The ruling was perhaps proper on form but empty on substance.

Two Mindsets on Judicial Oversight

More than just legal contrast, these cases show us two different judicial mindsets.

In Sint Maarten, the judge took a pragmatic approach. He recognized that administrative silence isn’t neutral –  that the absence of a decision can be just as harmful as a denial. And that when state authorities stall, the courts must compel movement.

In Aruba, the Court took a strictly procedural stance. It treated the dispute as a paperwork problem rather than a matter of public accountability. In doing so, it declined to weigh the bigger questions –  about fairness, timing, and regulatory paralysis. One court chose responsibility. The other chose restraint. I use the word “restraint” intentionally – not as a critique of the judge’s integrity, but of the institutional posture taken. As counsel in the matter, I won’t use this platform to elaborate on the legal grounds I believe were missed. That is best done – and will be done, if needed –  through proper legal channels.

The Cost of Being Wrong

While the aviation authority in Aruba may feel vindicated for now, it would do well to temper any celebration with a sober view of the potential consequences. Refusing to even process an aircraft registration – particularly one following a judicial sale upheld at the highest level in another jurisdiction –  is not a low-stakes decision.

Large business jets are not casual assets. They typically cost tens of millions of dollars, with ongoing maintenance, storage, and preservation costs that accrue even while the aircraft sits idle. If, down the line, it becomes clear that the aviation authority’s refusal was legally unfounded – especially in light of prevailing administrative law jurisprudence – the State of Aruba would face a substantial damages claim. And if that happens, it won’t be the authority absorbing the loss. It will be the Aruban taxpayer footing the bill for a regulatory misjudgment.

Authorities cannot have it both ways: promoting Aruba as an open and competitive international registry while denying access based on procedural rigidity or misapplied formalities. If judicial scrutiny ultimately finds that the aviation authority erred, leadership within that agency should not just be held accountable – I would argue they should be held liable because the taxpayer should be held harmless.

Closing Thoughts

These two cases – one in Sint Maarten, one in Aruba – are more than legal footnotes in aviation law. They are signals. Signals about how administrative authorities respond to applicants, and how courts choose to oversee (or avoid overseeing) those responses.

In Sint Maarten, the court recognized that regulatory silence can do as much harm as an outright refusal – and acted to restore balance. In Aruba, the court declined to engage meaningfully with the substance of the issue, leaving a multimillion-dollar aircraft in limbo and a legal cloud hanging over a jurisdiction that has spent decades building its reputation as a registry of choice.

If that reputation matters – and it should – then so does the responsibility that comes with it. Because as we’ve seen, a refusal to act can be just as costly, legally and financially, as acting wrongly. The rule of law doesn’t just demand process – it demands courage, clarity, and consequence.

See you next year. In the meantime, you can find all my latest blogs and podcast episodes at www.lincolngomez.com.