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a381: 1970 Review of Bernard Diedrich's "Papa Doc:" Slavin (fwd)

From: PSlavin@unicefusa.org

Here's one for the archives.

The New York Review of Books
March 12, 1970


Vodou Power

By Raymond Carr

Papa Doc: The Truth About Haiti Today
by Bernard Diedrich, by Al Burt
McGraw-Hill, 393 pp., $8.95

The Haitian People
by James Leyburn, with a new Introduction by Sidney Mintz
Yale, 342 pp., $2.45 (paper)

In Haiti, as Nassau Senior once remarked of Ireland under English rule,
almost all the moral objects are painful. For generations tourists and
diplomats used their impressions as proof that a Black Republic must fail.
In 1780 the richest colony in the world, where Rousseau's opera Le Devin du
village was a great favorite, independent Haiti had become by 1958 the
country with the lowest national income, highest illiteracy rate, and the
worst government in the Western hemisphere. Papa Doc looked like the
culmination of a century and a half of negro ineptitude.

James Leyburn sought, in his now outdated classic, first published in 1941,
a deeper explanation of this failure in the divisive social structure that
grew out of independence and in the international isolation that followed
it: Washington, as a Southern senator remarked, would not welcome a black
ambassador who might give "fellow blacks proof in hand of the honors which
await them from successful revolt on their part."

The struggle for freedom against France was begun by white
planters?colonial imitation of the ideas of 1789, just as North Americans
had studied British radicals. The whites were massacred in a slave revolt
(1791) and it was yellow fever, mulattoes, black slaves, and British
soldiers who defeated Napolean's reconquest and dream of a French Empire in
America. "Damn sugar, damn colonies," he exclaimed; he pulled out of Haiti
and sold Louisiana. By stretching history a little it can be argued that it
was negro slaves who gave the United States New Orleans.

Once the whites had gone Haiti fell apart into the divisions that have
haunted its history: mulatto against black; north against south.
Dessalines, the first Emperor, was an illiterate black, mocked by mulattoes
for his clumsy dancing. His successor, King Christophe, ruled only in the
north; the south went to the French-educated mulatto, Pétion. For a newly
independent nation the problem was, as it still is, how to generate the
exports on which the prosperity of the old colony was based. Emancipated
slaves did not want to go back to work on sugar plantations. Dessalines and
Christophe saw that only forced labor could make Haiti rich as well as
independent. It was forced labor that built the Citadel of La Ferrière,
superb monument to the determination of ex-slaves to resist the return of
their masters; now it is a melancholy ruin perched above a poverty-stricken

Forced labor and sharecropping did not last. It was Pétion who carried
through the first agrarian reform in the Western Hemisphere. Thirty years
after independence two-thirds of the population were landowners. On
gardensized plots coffee was the only conceivable commercial crop; the
production of subsistence crops exhausted the soil. Eroded
landscapes?hardly what the Caribbean tourist expects to see from the
air?are a sad reminder that prosperity is not always produced by giving the
land to those who till it. Haiti cannot conceivably generate the exports to
bring even a modest prosperity. One hundred and sixty agrarian paupers
squat on every square kilometer. They will have to go on living on
vegetables, walking miles to market a pathetic surplus, and dying of
intestinal diseases.

Leyburn describes Haiti in the final stages of the US presence which began
with the occupation of 1915, when the highly unstable political structure
that had grown up after independence collapsed in chaos. He saw the country
as imprisoned in a caste system. The "light skinned," diglot, nominally
Catholic, and legally married elite, whose cultural world was centered in
Paris, controlled political life from the towns. In the impoverished
countryside eroded by a century of subsistence farming were the "black,"
Creole-speaking peasants living in free unions, whose strange cult of vodou
was beginning to attract anthropologists. The control of the state was
based on a subtle mechanism: black armies could make and unmake black
presidents, grotesque puppets controlled by those who had a monopoly of
education and therefore of the language of government?French.

United States officials reinforced and simplified the system. To them the
elite seemed the only possible class around which a modernized society with
roads, hospitals, sewers, and a progressive agriculture could be built. The
mulatto elite regarded themselves as white Europeans, however black they
were in skin. In Brazil money whitens; in Haiti culture does. Sometimes the
uncultured revolted; in 1883 four thousand mulattoes were slaughtered in a
week. Sometimes the cultured took their revenge; in 1915 the mulattoes tore
the black President Guillaume Sam limb from limb in front of the French

After 1915 the crude version of elite control in the interests of a foreign
power was attacked by Haitian nationalists as a subconscious version of the
racial prejudices of the United States. The American occupation provoked a
revival in literature and politics, a return to the African heritage of a
former slave society. A politically inspired doctrine of social realism was
combined with a new respect and interest in the African elements of popular
culture and the language of the people?Creole. All Caribbean slaves of
African origins tried to sustain an independent culture of their own.
Planters sometimes found this useful (it kept the slaves quiet), but at
times it seemed a vast and impenetrable conspiracy against the whites?as
indeed vodou proved to be in 1791.

An African "subculture" survived among the Creole-speaking peasantry of
Haiti more strongly than anywhere else in the Americas. During this
century, social realists and ethnologists have been able to describe this
culture in French, and their writings are the foundation of the
self-conscious Haitian cultural nationalism that has been a recurrent theme
in Haitian life for more than fifty years. But when Haitian nationalists
wished to close the gap between the French-speaking elite and the peasants,
in what language could they write? They might seek to import Creole rhythms
into French prose. But who would read a Creole book? So far, it is only the
Haitian poets who have written convincingly in Creole; and perhaps it is
only the dancers and musicians who can enter into the culture of the

The American occupation did not only provoke a cultural revival, it also
fostered "progress," induced by American money and expertise; and produced
a middle class differing from the old elite, but whose composition,
function, and relation of color have never been analyzed.

In 1946 a black-skinned but educated villager, Dumarsis Estimé, became
President. Estimé's "revolution" represented a symbolic shift of cultural
emphasis rather than a radical social change?governmental patronage of
Afro-Haitian folklore in an educational system where the Haitian elite had
formerly been reared on the history of the Gauls and read Racine. Leyburn's
caste society was being weakened (if it ever existed in the rigid form he
imagined) by the new "black" urban middle class and a new urban working
class. Paul Magloire, another northern black, thrived in and on this new
society and became President in 1950. To outsiders it looked as if, at
last, Haiti of the Fifties was, in spite of corruption, on the way to
modest prosperity via foreign investment; caste conflict, if it existed
apart from class conflict, would be subsumed in economic progress, or so it
was hoped.

Suddenly it all ended. In 1957 Francois Duvalier was elected President of
Haiti; in 1963 he declared himself President for life.

No dictatorship can survive by pure force and it would be a great mistake,
as Sidney Mintz points out in his contribution to Leyburn's book, to regard
the present regime as no more than "an élite-hating dictatorship backed by
machine-guns." Duvalier regards himself as the spiritual heir of Estimé's
revolution of negritude. His first published work (1933) calls for a "truly
Haitian literature"; his teacher Price Mars was the founding father of
Haitian ethnology. His Praetorian guard, his Ton-Ton Macoutes, his militia,
in so far as they think at all, regard themselves as ultra-nationalists;
his sycophants rate him as "one of the great thinkers of the third world,"
for whom the murder of Martin Luther King was a turning point in history.
Illiterate peasants are flattered as well as manipul
ated by the first President to make vodou virtually a state religion, and
his pretentious verbiage may appear to them the wisdom of a national sage.

Duvalier's current hero is Dessalines, who, in the struggle for
independence, massacred white planters en masse. Dessalines is a nightmare
to those who dream of Paris, but to others his desire to inscribe Haiti's
declaration of independence on white skins constitutes his claim to be the
true founder of the nation. "Dessalines pas vlé oné blancs," runs the
Haitian military march once played before American Marines when being
decorated by the President. It means, "Dessalines can't stand the sight of
white men." Duvalier has a developed sense of irony in his dealings with
the United States.

However explicable as an event in Haitian history, Duvalier's regime
remains the most ghastly regime in the hemisphere. On this score Mr.
Diedrich and Mr. Burt, two journalists who knew the country well, leave no
doubts. Duvalier may not contemplate the heads of his slaughtered enemies
stuck before him on his desk. He has, however, left his rivals riddled with
bullets on the pavements. He has dismantled all organized institutions from
the business community to the army and the Catholic Church. Every Haitian
with a glimmer of independent spirit is outside Haiti.

One is astonished at the physical courage of his opponents; Clement Barbot,
hatchet man of the early days, believed capable of changing himself into a
black dog (Duvalier, it was said, ordered all black dogs to be shot on
sight), was perhaps the only man who knew enough about Duvalier's methods
to oust him. After three years of hair-raising clandestine activity he was
flushed out of a burning cane field and shot like a rabbit. All the horror
can scarcely be described in modern English: only Suetonius, as Graham
Greene suggests, could do these Roman tragedies justice.

Why does it last? Oppositions?and Mr. Diedrich and Mr. Burt give a clear,
if discouraging, view of this process?have fragmented time and time again.
The Coalitienne Haitienne in New York united the centrist leaders; but it
must seem old hat to radical young Haitians to contemplate politicians like
Magloire as powers in the New Haiti. Guerrillas attacking in groups without
coordination, harboring illusions that foreigners will give arms and that
the peasants will support them as they cared for Castro in the Sierra
Maestra, meet with failure. Jacques Alexis, a writer arriving from Peking
and Cuba, was stoned to death by the peasants he had come to save in April,

Does the majority?the peasants?swallow Duvalier's turgid declarations about
"the victory of our miserable peasant masses"? Or are they terrified?
"Blood will flow in Haiti as never before. There will be no sunrise or
sunset, just one big flame licking the sky. The dead will be buried under a
mountain of ashes because of serving the foreigner." All guerrillas are, by
Duvalier's definition, foreign whites. "Allow the blood of Dessalines," he
exhorts, "to flow in your veins." Black racism is denied by Papa Doc's
lobbyists and public relations men in New York and Washington; but it is

In Mr. Diedrich's and Mr. Burt's book Duvalier is shown as alternately
blackmailing or humiliating the United States. If aid agencies attempted to
halt the process by which their aid was used to strengthen Duvalier's
police and enrich his supporters, they were accused of infringement of
Haitian sovereignty. If a cut-off of aid was threatened, Haitian students
could be relied on to demonstrate and "reaffirm the anti-imperialistic
position beside the youth of Cuba and all the progressive youth of the
world." When Washington suggested that Duvalier's second election was
illegal this was to discriminate against a negro nation?democracy
masquerading as colonialism. Haiti alone knows "true" democracy?"ethnic"
and "revolutionary."

Duvalier's relations with the United States are a farcical parody of the
embarrassments created by the American search for "security" (Haiti must
not become another Cuba) and by the external weaknesses created for US
policy by domestic failures. If the OAS has a right to curb internal
violence in member states, "why has it not," asks Duvalier, "been used in

Large-scale aid from Washington was wound up in 1963. "Correct" diplomatic
relations, after a short suspension, continue, to the distress of exiles
who regard such a policy as empty of moral conviction, and to the
embarrassment of a State Department which can think of nothing better to
do?even if this means that Governor Rockefeller must smile on Papa Doc.

Perhaps there are situations too tragic to contemplate. Only extensive aid
could lift Haiti out of poverty which breaks the heart; but, private
charity and restricted bank loans apart, the subjects of some dictators do
not qualify for public aid because the dictator cannot be trusted with the
funds. Coming from a civilization where citizens?and even horses?get their
own disposable syringes, one is shocked to visit a village dependent on an
ancient hypodermic sterilized in a cocoa tin over a charcoal fire. Do only
the politically respectable qualify for "humanitarian" aid?

Duvalier's popular appeal, I would guess, is greater than is believed.
Liberals, of course, do not and cannot support governments because they are
popular, but they do then?as any glance through press cuttings since 1963
would reveal?toward a belief that a government of which they disapprove is
on the verge of overthrow. A bullet or a stroke may do the trick; the
economy, catastrophic as it is, may slide into total ruin. But it is hard
to see how anything but chaos can follow Duvalier's crazy police state.

So long as Papa Doc lasts Haiti will suffer some form of ostracism.
Tourists believe that they will be found with their throats cut among the
dead leaves of an empty swimming pool in a guestless hotel. Graham Greene
and his scriptwriters have seen to that. The taxi drivers and prostitutes,
hotel porters and pimps, the tourist agents and money changers of
Port-au-Prince regard Greene as public enemy number One. Such is the power
of literature.

Copyright © 1963-2002 NYREV, Inc. All rights reserved.

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