The Great Gaming Deception: How Curaçao Finally Became a Real Regulator
For nearly three decades, one of the world’s most notorious questions in online gambling has been whether Curaçao actually regulated anything at all. The tiny Caribbean island issued licenses to thousands of online casinos and sportsbooks, yet skeptics consistently questioned whether its “Gaming Authority” was legitimate government oversight or merely an elaborate private enterprise masquerading as official regulation.
Those skeptics were right to be suspicious.
Our investigation reveals that until December 2024, Curaçao’s gaming regulation was indeed a carefully constructed facade. The island’s government had essentially outsourced its regulatory authority to just four private companies, creating a “pay-to-play” system that prioritized speed and profit over player protection or compliance. These private “master licensors” collected fees from thousands of operators worldwide while providing minimal oversight—a lucrative arrangement that earned Curaçao the reputation as a “rubber stamp” jurisdiction.
But intense pressure from the Dutch government, threats of international blacklisting, and a corruption scandal have forced a dramatic transformation. In December 2024, Curaçao passed sweeping legislation that dismantled this privatized system and established a genuine state regulatory authority for the first time in the jurisdiction’s history.
The new Curaçao Gaming Authority (CGA) represents a complete break from the past—a legitimate government regulator with real teeth, operating under direct ministerial oversight. Whether this reformed authority can shed decades of reputational damage and become a credible player in global gaming regulation remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: the era of Curaçao as a regulatory Wild West has officially ended.
The Genesis of Ambiguity: Curaçao’s Master License System (1996-2023)
Understanding how Curaçao became synonymous with questionable gambling regulation requires examining the bizarre system that governed its iGaming industry for nearly three decades. The widespread skepticism about whether its regulators were genuinely governmental wasn’t paranoia—it was an accurate assessment of a privatized system that was legally dubious and operationally unlike any other major licensing jurisdiction. This regime of delegated authority created the very perception that Curaçao’s gaming oversight was run by private corporations rather than the state, because for all practical purposes, it was.
The Legal Foundation: The National Ordinance on Offshore Games of Hazard (NOOGH)
Curaçao’s journey as an iGaming hub began with its pioneering legislation. The National Ordinance on Offshore Games of Hazard (NOOGH), officially the Landsverordening buitengaatse hazardspelen (LBH), came into force in 1993, with the first licenses being issued in 1996.¹ This made Curaçao one of the earliest jurisdictions in the world to formally legalize and regulate online gambling, a move that positioned it to capture a significant share of the nascent digital betting market.⁵
The NOOGH framework was designed to be liberal, offering significant advantages that proved highly attractive to operators. These included a 0% tax rate on foreign-sourced income, 0% VAT, no import duties, and no restrictions on the withdrawal of dividends.⁶ This favorable fiscal environment, combined with a simplified licensing process, quickly established Curaçao as the “go-to” jurisdiction for thousands of iGaming startups and established brands alike.⁵ However, the very structure created by the NOOGH was fundamentally different from a direct state-licensing model. The legislation established a system where the government would not directly license or oversee the vast majority of operators. Instead, it created a two-tiered system that delegated this core sovereign function to the private sector.²
The Four Private Master Licensors
At the heart of the old system were a small and exclusive group of “master license” holders. The Government of Curaçao, through its Minister of Justice, granted these master licenses to just four private corporate entities:
- Antillephone N.V. (License #8048/JAZ)
- Curacao Interactive Licensing N.V. (CIL) (License #5536/JAZ)
- Cyberluck Curacao N.V., also known as Curacao-eGaming (License #1668/JAZ)
- Gaming Curacao (Gaming Services Provider N.V.) (License #365/JAZ)⁸
These four entities were not government agencies. They were private businesses that were granted the extraordinary authority to issue an unlimited number of “sub-licenses” to other iGaming operators around the world.⁶ An operator wishing to acquire a Curaçao license would not apply to the government but directly to one of these four private companies.¹⁴ The sub-license they received was legally tied to the master license, meaning its validity was contingent on the master license remaining active.⁹
This structure effectively created a system of regulatory proxies. The state’s direct regulatory relationship was limited to only four private companies, while the thousands of global online casinos and sportsbooks operating with a “Curaçao license” were, in fact, licensed and overseen by these private intermediaries.² This arrangement is the principal reason for the long-standing confusion and skepticism. The entities that most operators and players interacted with were indeed private corporations, giving the strong and accurate impression that the regulatory function was privatized.
A System of Delegated Authority and “Laissez-Faire” Regulation
While a Gaming Control Board (GCB) existed in Curaçao since its incorporation as a foundation in 1999, its role in the online gaming sector was limited and indirect under the old regime.⁶ Without a robust supporting framework to manage thousands of licensees, the GCB devolved most of its responsibilities to the four master license holders and subsequently struggled to monitor even those four entities adequately.⁶
This delegation created a fundamental conflict of interest that defined the era. The master licensors’ primary business model was based on the fees collected from issuing and maintaining sub-licenses. This created a powerful economic disincentive to enforce strict compliance standards or conduct rigorous oversight. Holding their sub-licensees to high standards would increase operational costs and friction for those operators, potentially driving them to a more lenient master licensor or another jurisdiction entirely. As a result, the master licensors often failed to hold their sub-licensees accountable, “chiefly because it was economically convenient for them not to do so”.⁶ Existing anti-money laundering (AML) and other compliance measures were rendered largely ineffective due to this lack of enforcement.⁶
The result was a “laissez-faire” regulatory environment. The system was characterized by its speed, low cost, and minimal documentation requirements, which made it highly accessible.⁵ However, this same lack of intervention and enforcement gradually but severely tainted the jurisdiction’s reputation, allowing it to be perceived as a “rubber stamp” for operators, including those who might be unethical or seeking to exploit regulatory loopholes.⁶
Legal and Reputational Consequences
The inherent weaknesses of the master/sub-license system eventually led to significant legal and reputational challenges. The very legality of the structure was called into question. In a landmark case, a critic and player advocate, Nardy Cramm, won an appellate court ruling against master licensor Cyberluck Curaçao. The court deemed her characterization of the sub-licensing system as “illegal” to be “plausible” and legitimate criticism protected by freedom of expression. The judges noted that the practice of private licensees issuing sub-licenses to countless websites with enormous turnover, all without direct government supervision, “seems difficult to reconcile with any legitimate aim” of the original 1996 ordinance.²² The court highlighted the “thin legislative basis” of the entire regime, giving judicial weight to the long-held criticisms.²²
This legal vulnerability was compounded by a deteriorating international reputation. Curaçao was labeled a “haven for black market operators” and was alleged to be responsible for as much as 40% of the world’s unregulated online gambling.⁶ Its license carried a “mixed” or “lower” reputation when compared to more stringent jurisdictions like Malta or the UK.¹ This had tangible consequences for its licensees, who were frequently found on the blacklists of regulated European countries such as Poland, Sweden, and Belgium.²²
The ambiguous status of the sub-licenses also created practical business challenges that exposed the system’s fundamental flaws. Many international payment service providers and financial institutions refused to recognize sub-licenses as legitimate government-issued permits. This forced operators into complex corporate gymnastics, often creating subsidiary companies in EU jurisdictions like Cyprus just to process player payments.⁶ These elaborate workarounds were a telling sign that the sub-license lacked the credibility of a genuine sovereign-backed credential in the global financial system. Skepticism about Curaçao’s regulatory legitimacy wasn’t misplaced—it reflected an accurate assessment of a privatized and legally questionable system.
The Imperative for Reform
The master/sub-license system generated massive profits for decades, but it was living on borrowed time. By the early 2020s, mounting external pressures and internal crises had made the status quo impossible to maintain. What happened next wasn’t regulatory evolution—it was a forced transformation driven by financial desperation and the very real threat of international isolation.
External Pressure: The Dutch Government and Financial Aid
COVID-19 delivered the knockout punch to Curaçao’s economy. When international travel collapsed, so did the island’s tourism revenues, creating a budget crisis that forced the government to go hat in hand to the Netherlands for financial assistance.⁶
But The Hague wasn’t writing blank checks. Dutch officials saw the crisis as an opportunity to finally force reforms they had long demanded. Among the explicit conditions for aid: Curaçao had to “clean up its gambling sector” and implement genuine regulatory oversight.⁴ It was financial blackmail, pure and simple. Accept real regulation or face economic ruin. The message was clear—the era of Curaçao as a regulatory safe haven was over.⁶
International Scrutiny and Reputational Risk
Meanwhile, international financial watchdogs were circling like vultures. The Financial Action Task Force (FATF) was threatening to put Curaçao on its “grey list”—a designation that would have been an economic death sentence. Global regulators had grown increasingly concerned that the island’s Wild West gambling sector was being exploited for money laundering and terrorist financing.⁴ Being grey-listed would have cut Curaçao off from the international banking system, destroying foreign investment and diplomatic relationships.
The diplomatic complaints were piling up. Japan’s government was demanding that Curaçao shut down operators illegally targeting Japanese citizens. Other countries were lodging similar protests about tax evasion and consumer protection failures.¹⁹ The old system’s inability to control its licensees was creating international incidents and turning Curaçao into a pariah state. The license that once opened doors was increasingly slamming them shut, becoming a scarlet letter that limited market access and attracted only the most desperate or reckless operators.¹
Economic and Governance Drivers
The external pressure was crushing, but there was also a simple internal reality: Curaçao was getting ripped off. The government was sitting on a goldmine—thousands of gambling operators generating billions in revenue—yet capturing only crumbs. The four private master license holders were pocketing the vast majority of licensing fees while the state treasury remained nearly empty.⁴ Reform promised to redirect this river of money from private pockets into government coffers, funding everything from addiction treatment to education and sports programs.¹¹
Local officials also recognized that their reputation was toxic. The old system was a race to the bottom that attracted the worst actors in gambling while repelling legitimate investors. To build a sustainable economic future, Curaçao needed credibility.⁵ The perfect storm was brewing: Dutch financial pressure, threats of international blacklisting, the lure of massive new government revenue, and the desperate need for respectability. By 2024, reform wasn’t just inevitable—it was a matter of survival.
The LOK Framework: Regulatory Revolution
When the pressure became unbearable, Curaçao’s government did something unprecedented: it completely started over. The result was the Landsverordening op de kansspelen (LOK)—the National Ordinance on Games of Chance—a sweeping piece of legislation that didn’t just reform the old system but obliterated it entirely. This wasn’t regulatory tinkering around the edges. The LOK represented a complete philosophical reversal, abandoning the Wild West approach that had defined Curaçao for decades in favor of genuine state control.
Legislative Passage and Enactment
The path to the LOK’s enactment was a complex and politically charged process. After extensive consultations with industry stakeholders and analysis of best practices from jurisdictions like Malta, the draft legislation was tabled in parliament.⁶ The bill was officially passed by the Parliament of Curaçao on December 17, 2024, with a majority vote of 13 in favor to 6 against.¹¹ It was subsequently signed into law and officially came into effect on December 24, 2024.⁴
The passage was not without significant debate and opposition. Some members of parliament and the Curaçao Bar Association raised concerns about the concentration of power in the hands of the Minister of Finance, Javier Silvania, particularly his ability to implement regulations through ministerial decrees.¹¹ The process also coincided with a political scandal involving allegations of corruption leveled against the Finance Minister by opposition politicians, adding a layer of controversy to the reform’s rollout.¹⁵ Despite these challenges and delays, the bill secured the necessary majority, marking the formal end of the old era.¹¹
Core Objectives of the LOK
The LOK was drafted with a clear set of objectives aimed at rectifying the deficiencies of the past and repositioning Curaçao as a credible and responsible gaming hub. The legislation’s primary goals are to create a safer, more transparent, and well-regulated environment for all stakeholders.⁷ This represents a deliberate pivot from the previous model, which prioritized low barriers to entry and cost-effectiveness, to a new model centered on compliance, integrity, and international best practices.
Key focus areas embedded within the LOK include:
- Enhanced Player Protection: The law introduces mandatory responsible gaming measures that operators must implement, such as deposit limits, self-exclusion options, and mandatory breaks, to protect vulnerable players.⁴
- Robust Anti-Money Laundering (AML) and Counter-Terrorism Financing (CTF) Measures: The framework significantly tightens AML/CFT obligations, requiring operators to implement stringent Know Your Customer (KYC) protocols, appoint dedicated compliance officers, and report suspicious activities to the Financial Intelligence Unit, aligning Curaçao with global FATF standards.¹
- Improving International Reputation: A core objective is to shed the jurisdiction’s reputation as a haven for grey or black-market operators and align its standards with those of other well-regarded jurisdictions, particularly Malta.⁶ This is intended to improve the global acceptance of the Curaçao license and attract more reputable businesses.
The Abolition of the Master/Sub-License System
The most significant structural change enacted by the LOK is the legal termination of the master/sub-license system.⁶ The ordinance explicitly abolishes the two-tiered structure that had been in place since 1996. Under the new law, the practice of sub-licensing is prohibited, and the existing master licenses were slated to expire without renewal.²³ For instance, Gaming Curacao (365/JAZ) publicly announced that its master license would expire on August 18, 2024, and would not be extended by the government.³⁰
To manage the shift, the LOK provides for a transitional framework. Existing operators holding sub-licenses were required to register through a government portal and apply directly to the new authority for a license under a “grandfathering” process.⁶ This process ensures business continuity for compliant operators while forcing all entities to eventually come under the direct supervision of the state regulator. This legislative act of dismantling the old system and forcing a migration to a new, direct-licensing model is the clearest possible evidence of the government’s intent to centralize and formalize its control over the industry.
The Curaçao Gaming Authority: Finally, a Real Regulator
The LOK didn’t just create new rules—it created the enforcer. The Curaçao Gaming Authority (CGA) emerged from the legislation as something the jurisdiction had never possessed: a genuine state regulator with real authority and direct government backing. After decades of legitimate questions about regulatory authenticity, the CGA’s legal foundation, governmental mandate, and official powers finally provide unambiguous answers about state control over the gambling sector.
Legal Establishment and Governmental Mandate
The Curaçao Gaming Authority (CGA) is formally established by the National Ordinance on Games of Chance (LOK).⁴ It is the legal successor to the former Gaming Control Board (GCB), which is being converted and empowered under the new legislation.⁶ The GCB itself was first incorporated as a foundation on April 19, 1999, with the purpose of regulating the gaming industry.¹⁶
The most critical element defining its official status is its direct link to the executive branch of the Curaçao government. In 2019, the responsibility for licensing and supervision of the online gaming sector was officially transferred to the Minister of Finance.²⁶ The LOK reaffirms and solidifies this structure. The CGA operates on behalf of the Minister of Finance, and its authority is explicitly mandated by the Ministry of Finance.²¹ This is not a delegation of power to a private entity, as was the case with the master licensors; it is the functioning of a state regulatory body under the oversight of a government ministry. This direct chain of command from the Minister of Finance to the CGA unequivocally establishes it as a government entity.
Powers and Responsibilities: A Centralized State Authority
Under the LOK, the CGA has been vested with comprehensive and exclusive powers, fundamentally centralizing the regulatory function that was previously fragmented and privatized. The CGA is now the sole entity in Curaçao with the legal authority to grant, amend, suspend, and revoke gaming licenses.¹⁹ This power is no longer shared with or delegated to any private corporations.
The CGA’s remit is all-encompassing. It directly oversees the new dual-license system, issuing licenses for both Business-to-Consumer (B2C) operators who interact with players and Business-to-Business (B2B) suppliers who provide critical services like software and payment processing.⁶ It is responsible for enforcing the full suite of new, stricter compliance requirements, including:
- Anti-Money Laundering and Counter-Terrorism Financing (AML/CFT) protocols⁴
- Responsible Gaming policies and player protection measures⁴
- Local substance requirements, such as maintaining a physical office and staff in Curaçao¹
Furthermore, the CGA has begun to actively assert its authority. It has issued stern warnings that any company registered in Curaçao and offering games of chance must hold a CGA-issued license. Operating from the island under a foreign license is now explicitly defined as illegal and a potential violation of Curaçao’s Criminal Code.¹⁹ This demonstrates a clear intent to enforce its mandate and eliminate the regulatory loopholes of the past.
A Note on Governance and Controversy
While the CGA’s legal status as a government body is clear, its rollout has been accompanied by significant political controversy that adds a layer of nuance to its public perception. Throughout the reform process, serious allegations of corruption, fraud, and money laundering were leveled against the Minister of Finance, Javier Silvania—the very minister overseeing the reform—by opposition politician Luigi Faneyte.¹⁵
The GCB (now CGA) and the Minister have publicly and forcefully refuted these claims. In a formal statement, the GCB clarified that the licensing process is managed entirely by the board and its advisors, not by the minister personally. It also explained that all license fees are paid directly into an official government bank account, asserting that “there is no scope for mismanagement” or embezzlement.²⁷
This public refutation is itself a significant indicator of the new era. The government’s willingness to engage with such allegations and provide a detailed, bureaucratic explanation of its processes is a strategic move to build credibility and project an image of transparency. It is a deliberate attempt to address the very skepticism that defined the old system. Nevertheless, the ongoing political turmoil underscores the immense challenges of implementing such a sweeping reform. While the CGA is undoubtedly a state entity de jure, its ability to operate with de facto independence and maintain its integrity amidst political pressure will be the true test of its legitimacy in the years to come. The critical question for stakeholders has shifted from “Is it a government body?” to “Is it an effective and impartial government body?”
Before and After: A Tale of Two Systems
To fully grasp the magnitude of Curaçao’s transformation, you need to see the old and new systems side by side. This isn’t evolutionary change—it’s regulatory revolution. The comparison reveals just how dramatically the jurisdiction has reinvented itself, abandoning nearly three decades of privatized delegation in favor of genuine state control.
Comparative Analysis of Curaçao’s Gaming Regulatory Frameworks
| Feature | Old Regime (Pre-LOK / NOOGH) | New Regime (Post-LOK) |
|---|---|---|
| Primary Regulator | Four private Master License holders (e.g., Antillephone N.V., Gaming Curacao) with devolved authority. The Gaming Control Board (GCB) had limited, indirect oversight.² | The Curaçao Gaming Authority (CGA), an independent state body established by law and operating under the mandate of the Minister of Finance.⁶ |
| Legal Basis | National Ordinance on Offshore Games of Hazard (NOOGH), P.B. 1993, no. 63. A framework with a “thin legislative basis” for sub-licensing.²² | National Ordinance on Games of Chance (LOK), enacted December 2024. A comprehensive law establishing a new, centralized framework.⁴ |
| License Types | A two-tiered system of Master Licenses (for the 4 private entities) and an unlimited number of Sub-licenses (for operators).⁸ | A direct, single-tiered system of B2C (operator) and B2B (supplier) licenses issued by the state. Sub-licensing is legally abolished.⁷ |
| Government Oversight | Minimal and indirect. The government’s regulatory relationship was primarily with the four Master Licensors, not the thousands of operators.⁶ | Direct, centralized, and mandatory. The CGA directly licenses, supervises, and enforces regulations on all B2C and B2B entities.¹⁹ |
| Application Process | Application made to one of the four private Master Licensors. Standards, costs, and requirements varied between them.⁸ | Centralized application via a government-operated online portal, with standardized, stricter due diligence and “fit-and-proper” checks conducted by the CGA.⁷ |
| Key Compliance Requirements | Highly variable and often lax. No mandatory local presence or substance. AML/KYC enforcement was inconsistent and largely delegated.⁶ | Strict and standardized. Mandatory local substance (physical office, resident staff), robust AML/CFT protocols, regular independent audits, and certified software are required.¹ |
| Player Protection | Weak to non-existent. The regulator did not intervene in player-operator disputes. No formal, government-mandated dispute resolution process.²⁰ | Significantly strengthened. Mandatory responsible gaming tools (self-exclusion, limits) are required. Plans for mandatory Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR) are in place.⁴ |
| Reputation | Mixed to poor. Widely perceived as a “rubber stamp” or “flag of convenience” jurisdiction with low regulatory standards.¹ | Aspiring to be a reputable, transparent, and internationally respected jurisdiction, aiming to align with the standards of regulators like the Malta Gaming Authority.⁴ |
Analysis of Key Shifts
The data presented in the table clearly illustrates three fundamental shifts in Curaçao’s regulatory philosophy and structure:
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From Delegation to Direct Control: The most profound change is the reclamation of regulatory authority by the state. The previous system was defined by the government’s delegation of its core licensing and oversight functions to private actors. The new system is defined by direct control, with the CGA as the single, central point of authority. This eliminates the conflicts of interest and legal ambiguities that plagued the old regime.
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From Privatization to State Authority: The very nature of the regulator has changed. What was once a function carried out by private corporations for profit is now the responsibility of a formal state apparatus operating under a government ministry. This transformation directly addresses long-standing questions about legitimacy, confirming that the regulatory body is no longer a private entity with a mere appearance of officialdom.
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From a Reputation of Convenience to an Ambition of Compliance: The old system’s value proposition was its convenience: it was fast, cheap, and required minimal compliance. The LOK framework completely inverts this proposition. The new system’s value proposition is intended to be its credibility, built on a foundation of rigorous compliance, transparency, and alignment with international standards. This strategic repositioning signals a move away from attracting the maximum number of operators to attracting higher-quality, more compliant operators.
The Verdict: From Regulatory Theater to Real Authority
After decades of speculation and legitimate doubt, the question of whether Curaçao’s Gaming Authority is a real government regulator or just an elaborate private masquerade finally has a clear answer. Our investigation into the jurisdiction’s regulatory evolution reveals a story of dramatic transformation driven by external pressure and internal necessity.
For nearly thirty years, the doubters were absolutely right. Curaçao’s gambling regulation was built around four private companies that had been granted extraordinary authority to issue licenses on behalf of the state. These weren’t government agencies—they were profit-driven businesses that collected fees from thousands of operators while providing minimal oversight. The official Gaming Control Board existed in name only, relegated to the sidelines while private entities ran the show. Critics who dismissed Curaçao’s regulation as a privatized charade weren’t being unfair—they were being accurate.
But December 24, 2024, marked a watershed moment. The passage of the National Ordinance on Games of Chance (LOK) didn’t just reform the old system—it obliterated it. The master/sub-license structure was abolished, and for the first time in Curaçao’s history, a genuine state regulatory authority was born.
The evidence is now unambiguous: the Curaçao Gaming Authority is a legitimate government regulator. The facts speak for themselves:
- Parliament established the CGA through national legislation
- It operates under direct ministerial oversight from the Finance Ministry
- It holds exclusive state authority to issue, supervise, and revoke gaming licenses—power no longer delegated to private companies
The transformation is complete. What was once regulatory theater performed by private actors has become genuine state oversight. The question now isn’t whether Curaçao has a real regulator—it’s whether this new authority can overcome decades of reputational damage and earn the credibility that eluded its predecessors.
What Happens Now: Winners, Losers, and the New Reality
Curaçao’s regulatory revolution will create clear winners and losers. The transition from anything-goes licensing to serious compliance will fundamentally reshape the gambling landscape, forcing thousands of operators to adapt or die while potentially transforming the jurisdiction’s global standing.
The End of Easy Money
For gambling operators, the party is over. Gone are the days when you could get a Curaçao license with minimal paperwork, minimal cost, and minimal oversight. The new reality is expensive, time-consuming, and heavily regulated—more like applying for a license in Malta or the UK than the Wild West system operators have come to expect.¹⁷
The most brutal change is the local substance requirement. Companies must now establish real offices in Curaçao with actual employees—no more mail-forwarding services or empty brass plates.¹ This will force operators to spend serious money on Caribbean real estate and local staff, effectively killing the business model of thousands of shell companies that existed only on paper. The message is clear: if you want to use Curaçao’s name, you need to actually do business there.
The Great Rebranding
Curaçao is gambling everything on a complete image makeover. By raising standards and costs, the jurisdiction is deliberately shedding its reputation as the bargain-basement option for sketchy operators. The goal is ambitious: transform from regulatory pariah to respectable mid-tier regulator, potentially competing with established jurisdictions like Malta.³
The inevitable result will be a massive shakeout. Thousands of small, undercapitalized, or questionable operators will be forced to shut down or flee to even more permissive jurisdictions.²¹ That’s exactly what Curaçao wants—fewer licensees, but better ones. Whether this gamble pays off depends entirely on the CGA’s ability to actually enforce its new standards and prove to the world that this transformation is real, not just regulatory theater with better costumes.
The Winners: Players and Financial Partners
If the reforms work as intended, players will be the biggest winners. For the first time in Curaçao’s history, they’ll have real protections—mandatory self-exclusion tools, deposit limits, and formal dispute resolution processes that previously didn’t exist.⁴ The Wild West era of “good luck if something goes wrong” is officially over.
Banks and payment processors are also watching closely. For decades, many financial institutions treated Curaçao licenses like radioactive waste, forcing operators into expensive workarounds just to process payments.¹ If the CGA can prove its credibility by actually enforcing international money laundering and compliance standards, those same banks might finally treat Curaçao-licensed companies as legitimate partners rather than pariahs.
The transformation is legally complete, but the real test is just beginning. Curaçao has the regulatory framework to become a respectable gambling jurisdiction. Whether it has the political will and institutional capacity to make that promise a reality remains the billion-dollar question.