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20500: Slavin: Le Monde diplomatique, March 04 (fwd)
From: JPS390@aol.com
<http://MondeDiplo.com/2004/03/05haiti>
Le Monde diplomatique
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March 2004
'THE REVOLUTION SWEPT AWAY THE PAST WITHOUT PROVIDING A MODEL TO BUILD
A NEW STATE'
Haiti: two unhappy centuries of freedom
___________________________________________________________
President Jean-Bertrand Aristide is in exile but he was not sent
there by the Haitian people. They have watched as Aristide's
band of armed thugs was replaced by those who support a movement
with no democratic legitimacy, backed by foreign governments.
The present power vacuum is just another crisis in Haiti's
200-year history of instability.
by André Linard
___________________________________________________________
"WE WILL not celebrate Haitian independence, because to stage
a party in our penniless misery we should have to dip into
the peasant's purse and make the people eat their last
emaciated cow. We will not celebrate: lest, while we sip wine
from golden chalices and drunkenly toast the holy year 1804
in our sumptuous salons at the palace, the impoverished
peasantry, the dejected population, might curse
independence." This quote is circulating in Haiti in its
bicentenary year and could almost have been written to cover
the current chaotic situation. In fact, it is a century old
and was new when the first black republic was only 100 years
old. Its author, Dr Rosalvo Bobo, also said: "Frankly, when I
hear the words the Haitian people or nation, I am overcome by
irony. We are no nation, just isolated groups and individuals
ruled by one stigmatised group we call a government."
Those who have become opponents of the current regime in
Haiti express broadly the same sentiments. Many, including
writers and artists Raoul Peck, Gary Victor, Dany Laferrière
and Lyonel Trouillot, refused to have anything to do with
"official celebrations that were no more than another move in
the government's vain quest for legitimacy" (1).
Haiti's independence in 1804 left it isolated and out of step
with an international community that was fundamentally
hostile to the new regime. The Haitians had broken free of
slavery while the practice was at its height (it wasn't
properly abolished in Cuba or Brazil for another 80 years).
Haiti had escaped the grip of the French just as their empire
was being established in West Africa. Although the rest of
Latin America wanted independence, in Haiti the colonisers
themselves had taken over. Just as the modern nation-state
was becoming the norm in Europe, Haiti had set itself up as a
state - without actually constituting a nation: its territory
was populated by separate communities of distinct origin and
without any common organisational model.
Haiti was also an economic anomaly. While large plantations
on vast estates dominated the rest of Central and South
America, Haiti, for historical reasons, favoured
smallholdings.
On 19 November 1803 Napoleon's troops in Haiti surrendered.
Independence was declared on the first day of the new year.
But before then two different socio-economic plans existed,
which it is important to examine to understand today's
situation. One, supported by the most famous independence
leader, the "black Spartacus", Toussaint Louverture,
envisaged an economy based on large plantations geared
towards exports. The other, backed by the popular movements
of the time, preferred small-scale farming and a limited
commercial economy.
Toussaint won, explains Ernst Mathurin of Gramir, an NGO that
helps Haitian farmers, but the struggle between the two
ideals has lasted for 200 years. He says: "After 50 years, a
compromise emerged: the peasants could develop their
smallholdings while the elite focused on trade. Exploitation
was no longer happening on the land, but rather when products
were sold." This shaky compromise ended with the 1915
invasion by the United States, which pushed the Haitian
economy into an agricultural export-based model.
This unresolved conflict is not the only explanation for the
current mess. Another factor is the enduring weakness of the
state; this allowed oppressive rulers to dominate. Jacky
Dahomay (2) expresses this clearly: "Freedom needs an
institutional framework. But the young Haitian state's
weakness was that it lacked precisely that - an institutional
dimension to freedom. The rule of law has never been the
basis of political power in Haiti. The state inherited this
conflation of legitimacy and force from the colonial regime."
Mathurin agrees: "The Haitian state has always been weak. The
revolution swept away the past without providing any model on
which to base the construction of a new state."
In this context, adds Dahomay, Haiti can be seen as "the
world's only heroic nation - the essence of heroic power is
to assume legitimacy without justification other than the
leader's arbitrary will. A hero cannot tolerate the presence
of other heroes." Once he has freedom on his side "he has no
need to leave any freedom to others". This image of the
leader as hero informs the whole of Haitian history. The
just-deposed president, Jean-Bertrand Aristide, used the idea
by claiming a symbolic kinship with Toussaint Louverture.
This explains how he managed to flout the rules and increase
his personal powers, while enjoying unquestioning popularity
among much of the Haitian population even after his downfall.
Throughout the history of Haiti, says Dahomay, "the prince"
has held "a power of life and death as though designed to
maintain a permanent state of insecurity". To wield this
power, he then has "to pull from society individuals, often
bandits, to carry out his deathly business". For François
Duvalier, these were the tontons macoutes (bogeymen) (3).
Aristide's posses, sometimes called chimères, had a similar
function. They attacked hundreds of student demonstrators in
the streets of the capital, Port-au-Prince, as uniformed
police looked on. It was hardly surprising that the
government was reticent in adopting the recent Organisation
of American States (OAS) resolution on disarming armed gangs.
For one of Haiti's finest writers, Lyonel Trouillot, "To be
Haitian means to forge your identity with neither peers nor
solidarity: you are not my equal and I will not be like
you"(4). A former minister, Jean-Claude Bajeux, says: "We
reject critics as anti-patriotic. This is expressed, whatever
is at stake and including material agreements, through
physical elimination." There is no doubt as to what the
leaders of popular organisations mean when they call their
opponents anti-patriotic low-lifes who want Aristide to go,
and declare themselves prepared to defend him to the death:
they mean a death threat against their opponents. The slogan
"Aristide or death" that adorned Port-au-Prince's walls has a
sinister double meaning. Its authors risked death when
Aristide was overthrown just as much as his critics risked
being killed.
Change is in the air, but many feel that things can only get
worse. "All hope is lost," says Bajeux. "Rationally speaking,
this country cannot survive without a massive investment
whose benefits might be reaped in 20 or 25 years' time. But
we have neither investment capacity nor the capacity to
implement a development plan."
In 1990 Aristide moved from a parish presbytery to the
presidential palace on a wave of popular support. Then
widespread disillusionment spread everywhere, though it was
not universal. He was attacked for setting up an
anti-democratic regime and accused of enriching himself
through illicit trafficking. The public was divided between
three explanations. Some feel they were conned by Aristide in
1990. A slightly less widely shared view is that he was
changed by the 1991 coup that ousted him, his exile in the US
and return to power in 1994. There are those who saw him as a
victim of constraints: "se pa fôt li (it's not his fault)",
they say in Creole, preferring to blame both his entourage
and the international community (5).
But these are crude analyses. The reality is that his
election was merely a change in government, not, as many had
hoped, a change in society. Haitians' lack of prospects
inevitably make them disillusioned. "We live in a passport
culture," says Philippe Mathieu, a former university
vice-chancellor, "Haiti is a nation of migrants." For many,
hope lies elsewhere, on sugar plantations in the Dominican
Republic or building sites or the streets of New York, Miami
or Montreal. Emigration was already commonplace by the 20th
century, when many left for neighbouring countries such as
Cuba, where big plantations needed workers.
"Those young people who are a little thoughtful want to
leave," says a rural nurse. It is too difficult to get by at
home. The local way of life is viewed with contempt. Everyone
dreams of modernity North American-style - a myth kept alive
by the money, goods and pictures that exiled Haitians send
back. "Migration means moving from the country to the city,"
says Mathurin. "Rural life and agricultural work come to be
despised." The next step is contempt for Haiti.This makes the
consolidation of national identity impossible.
"We have a language, a country, a history that we should make
more of, but the bond that makes a nation is lacking," says
Michèle Pierre-Louis, head of the Fokal cultural foundation.
Many feel that the bicentenary could have been an opportunity
to make that bond. "We could have done something good," says
Bajeux, "got together friends of Haiti, drawn up a new social
contract."
Some NGOs are trying, within modest means, to push in this
direction, if only to keep Haiti's history alive and give its
youth something to identify with (although the present chaos
has interrupted everything). Fokal is an example of such an
initiative, as is the Centre for socio- economic research and
training run by historian Suzy Castor. "We won't be
celebrating," she says, "but we will try to help define who
we really are. Not in reference to the past, but with a view
to liberation." And to making sure that Bobo's analysis is
not still valid in 2104.
________________________________________________________
* André Linard is a journalist with the InfoSud-Syfia agency
in Brussels
See also : Haiti: a modern timeline
(1) Declaration of 1 October 2003, Agence Alterpresse.
(2) Jacky Dahomay, "La tentation tyrannique Haitienne",
Chemins Critiques, Port-au-Prince, vol V, n° 1, January 2001.
(3) Officially called national security volunteers, the
tontons macoutes were a militia created by François Duvalier
as a counterweight to the army's influence.
(4) Lyonel Trouillot, Haiti, (re)penser la citoyenneté,
Editions HSI, Port-au-Prince, 2001.
(5) Haiti is still subject to an international trade embargo
imposed after its failure to abide by OAS resolutions on
democratisation. See Paul Farmer, "Haiti: short and bitter
lives", Le Monde Diplomatique, English language edition, July
2003.
Translated by Gulliver Cragg
________________________________________________________
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © 1997-2004 Le Monde diplomatique
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J.P. Slavin
New York
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