13598: (Chamberlain, news item) Haunting Haiti (fwd)

[Bob Corbett <corbetre@webster.edu>]

From: Greg Chamberlain <GregChamberlain@compuserve.com>

   By PAISLEY DODDS

   PORT-AU-PRINCE, Nov 8 (AP) -- The memory of Michele Montas Dominique's
husband trails her as she goes to work at his radio station. She passes the
courtyard where he was gunned down. His life-sized portrait dominates the
lobby. His voice echoes through the halls.
   Montas has become a leading advocate of free speech and judicial reforms
in Haiti, using Jean Dominique's radio station as a mirror into the
Caribbean country's maze of political and economic troubles.
   She criticizes President Jean-Bertrand Aristide and his governing party
for falling down in the investigation into her husband's death. She also
blames the opposition for shortsighted solutions that ignore Haiti's poor.
She knows each word could bring her closer to her husband's fate.
   "There can be no democracy in Haiti if impunity is allowed to flourish,"
says Montas, 55, wrapping up a talk show in which she discussed the
possible war in Iraq and Haitians fleeing to the United States.
   The show begins with Dominique's taped voice saying, "Bonjour, Michele."
She replies by tallying the number of days that have passed since his
murder on April 3, 2000.
   More than 80 people have been questioned and six suspects detained in
the investigation into Dominique's killing, but Haiti's Senate has refused
to lift the immunity of key suspect Sen. Dany Toussaint, a member of
Aristide's Lavalas Family party.
   Judge Claudy Gassant, 36, fled to Miami after his mandate in the case
ended last year, saying he feared for his life. His predecessor, Jean-Senat
Fleury, also stepped down for security reasons. Another judge has been
appointed but investigations remain stalled.
   The Organization of American States said in a September report that
Dominique's killing and lack of progress in punishing the perpetrators has
created a "terrifying environment for other social communicators."
   Since Aristide's Lavalas Family party swept flawed elections in 2000,
the international community has frozen nearly $1 billion in aid, resources
have been exhausted, and U.S. policy toward Haitians fleeing their country
has become increasingly unsympathetic.
   To an outsider, Montas' determination seems tireless.
   Two months after the assassination, she asked reporters if they were
ready to return to work. "One of them said if I could cross the courtyard
every morning, they were ready to follow," Montas says, choking back tears.
"How could I say 'no' after that?"
   Montas met Dominique at a newspaper where they worked though they had
seen each other often at a movie theater.
   "I remember seeing this guy with a big pipe and asking myself who would
have enough time during the day to see as many movies as him," she says.
They started living together in 1973.
   As much as Montas laments Aristide's lack of support and calls work on
the investigation "artificially slow," she is sympathetic to the challenges
he faces.
   "Even if Aristide wanted to be a dictator he couldn't because nothing
works in Haiti," says Montas. "He has no army and no infrastructure, but
there is still the potential for anarchy."
   She also says she's "scared that the U.S. government is putting pressure
on him without having thought of an alternative."
   Montas, who travels with a bodyguard, says Haiti's press is freer than
it has ever been but the climate is growing increasingly intolerant.
   In the past year, several journalists have been attacked by government
supporters. Many stations went off the air after an alleged coup attempt in
December led Aristide supporters to attack journalists.
   Also last December, radio journalist Brignol Lindor was hacked to death
several days after opposition politicians spoke on his radio talk show. Ten
members of a pro-government organization have been indicted.
   Dominique was a friend of Aristide when Haiti's leader was a slum priest
whose exhortations led to an uprising that ousted the 26-year Duvalier
dictatorship. When the army staged a coup, Aristide and Dominique fled into
exile, Aristide to Washington and Dominique to New York.
   After U.S. troops restored Aristide in 1994, Dominique came home to
reopen the radio station. But he became more and more outspoken about
alleged corruption in Lavalas.
   With a staff of 45 and advertisers reluctant to be associated with a
dissenting voice, times have been tough for Radio Haiti. "We've closed the
station down a few times and gone into exile, so who cares about a
deficit," said Montas. "We'll survive."