The escalating undeclared war in Cité Soleil, which has
taken scores of lives in the last couple of months, pits the UN
stabilisation force (Minustah) against armed gangs, variously
described as supporters of ousted president Jean-Bertrand Aristide,
drug traffickers, kidnappers or outside provocateurs.
Whatever the truth, the UN force have long demanded the
“aggressive cleansing” of an area that is seen as a
stronghold of support for ex-president Aristide and of resistance
to the neoliberal “restructuring” on the Caribbean
island.
The impact of these policies has been to make Haiti, in the words
of one commentator, “the most open economy in the
world”. Agriculture, which most Haitians rely on for
subsistence, has all but been destroyed. A country that was once
self-sufficient in food is now dependent on aid and remittances
from Haiti’s large overseas community to stave off
starvation.
The lowering, or outright abolition, of protective tariffs on
foodstuffs, demanded as a condition for the granting of financial
aid, has meant that the small peasants and sharecroppers who
scraped a living off the land now compete with dumped cheap foreign
imports and “food aid”.
The outcome of this unequal competition is that the poorest are
driven off the land to swell the pools of human misery in the urban
slums like Cité Soleil, or attempt the perilous sea trip to
an uncertain future in a foreign land – a journey many do not
survive. Those who remain are compelled to turn to the cash crop of
last resort – cutting down what few trees are left for
charcoal production, and making Haiti’s ecological
catastrophe worse.
The immediate background to the violence in Cité Soleil,
which is mirrored in the rest of the country, is the drive to hold
presidential and parliamentary elections, which are currently
scheduled for 7 February.
These elections represent an attempt to bring legitimacy to a state
that has been run by unelected US-appointed officials since
Aristide was forced from office two years ago by an armed revolt by
former members of the military.
Shattered dream
Few people, however, believe the elections hold out any hope for an
improvement to the desperately miserable lives of the bulk of the
population. None of the contending parties or candidates offer a
programme that would reverse the damage done by following the
neo-liberal plan, nor relieve the phenomenal wealth inequalities
and exploitation that characterise Haitian society.
Furthermore, many question the legitimacy of elections that have
already been postponed five times due to incompetence, poor
infrastructure, corruption, violence and general cynicism.
Elections are seen as a sick joke when the estimated 500,000
inhabitants of Cité Soleil are under siege by an occupying
army, or ruled by self-appointed armed thugs, where 40 percent of
the population haven’t received polling cards and where some
will have to walk for up to six hours to cast their vote.
Finally, a large number of Haitians, despite the disillusionment
caused by his time in office, regard the exiled Aristide as the
legitimate president and the “missing candidate”.
René Préval, his former deputy, is currently seen as
a front runner.
How did the Haitian dream turn so sour? Haiti is a country whose
history should be close to every socialist’s heart.
Occupying the western third of the Caribbean island of Hispaniola
(shared with the Dominican Republic), Haiti emerged from the ashes
of the French slave colony of Saint Domingue as the world’s
first independent black republic in 1804. Inspired by the French
Revolution’s ideals of liberty, equality and fraternity, as
well as by their African animist-based religion, the slaves had
risen up and taken on their masters.
In the course of a bloody decade-long struggle, armies of freed
slaves led by such heroic figures as Toussaint L’Ouverture
and Jean-Jacques Dessalines defeated armies sent by the
world’s then superpowers – France, Spain and Britain
– to restore slavery.
In the wake of independence, international isolation and a
war-shattered economy kept the new nation in thrall to a succession
of vicious despots, culminating in the notorious Duvalier
dictatorships (1957-86).
A massive popular uprising in 1986 overthrew the regime of Jean
Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier and the feared Tonton
Macoutes militia he had inherited from his father, known as
“Papa Doc”. Many hoped this episode heralded the dawn
of a brave new era for the desperately impoverished nation.
Instead, Haiti today is the shattered dream of those who laid down
their lives in those struggles.
By far the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, Haiti ranks
among the very worst countries in the world in terms of life
expectancy, infant mortality, HIV infection, literacy, access to
healthcare or clean water, income per capita, debt, corruption and
environmental degradation.
Some see the logical extension of the current occupation being to
declare Haiti a “failed state” and the establishment of
some sort of protectorate. This would indeed be the sad, final nail
in the coffin of a heroic enterprise.
The most common approach by so-called development experts is to
describe Haiti as the archetypal basket case that is incapable of
self-rule and will never be more than a headache for the
international community.
Far from being an ill-judged experiment in black self-rule that was
always doomed to failure, the post-independence history of Haiti is
one of interference, aggression and invasion by foreign
powers.
At first the young republic, once it had shown that it could not
easily be militarily subjugated, was put in international
quarantine by the great powers who feared it might provide a
dangerous example to their slaves.
The US did not recognise Haiti for 58 years and only did so during
the American Civil War, its own life and death struggle against
slavery.
Other powers did not recognise Haiti until 1825, when it was forced
to pay a huge indemnity to the former slave power, France. This
payment effectively meant that the descendants of slaves were being
asked to pay for their forefathers’ freedom. It also
represented the beginning of the cycle of debt that still crushes
the poor today and keeps the state in hock to foreign and
international financial institutions.
The cycle of foreign interference continued into the 20th century,
culminating in the US invasion and occupation of 1915-34. Prompted
by concern for US interests in the region, the marines were sent
in. Their brutal racist approach was summed up by their bemusement
at dealing with “niggers who spoke French”.
The main legacy of the US occupation was the creation of the
Haitian army, a force whose sole mission has been internal
repression and the propping up of grotesque dictatorships
sympathetic to US foreign policy goals.
Thus, the otherwise reviled Duvalier dictatorships were seen by the
US as embarrassing but steadfast bulwarks against “world
Communism” (for which read local liberation movements). This
was especially true after Cuba was “lost”.
Haiti’s more recent history is no less replete with examples
of foreign interference.
In 1990 former Catholic priest Aristide became Haiti’s first
democratically elected president in living memory, carried to power
by a landslide after a promise to champion the poor. The US state
department saw him as a dangerous leftist and a threat to their
policy goals.
Almost immediately, the US embassy in Port-au-Prince began
conspiring with the Haitian army top brass and economic elite, who
were themselves deeply unhappy at the turn of events.
The result of these machinations was quick to be felt. Aristide was
thrown from power and forced into exile by a violent military coup
barely eight months after coming to office.
Brutality
The incredible brutality of the resulting military regime produced
an international outcry, compounded by the arrival of thousands of
desperate Haitian boat people along the Florida coast.
The then US president, Bill Clinton, was prompted to reassess US
policy toward the country, although this did not stop US
coastguards holding boat people illegally at the Guantanamo Bay
detention centre before “renditioning” them to the
mercies of the Haitian military.
The new approach adopted under Clinton meant returning Aristide to
office, but only after effectively rendering him incapable of
making any substantial changes that would benefit the Haitian
masses or impede US goals.
Aristide was forced to accept that his three years in exile should
be counted as part of his term in office (the Haitian constitution
bars presidents from serving consecutive terms). He was made to
agree to the terms set out by the international financial
institutions and forced to accept that the bloody activities of the
regime would go unpunished.
A suitably de-clawed Aristide was then shipped back to Haiti.
Predictably, his government, and that of his successor René
Préval, was weakened by the concessions and incapable of
reversing the decline in standards of living experienced by
Haiti’s poor.
The disillusionment with the “people’s champion”
meant that although he was re-elected in 2000, turnout was low and
support lukewarm.
This proved crucial in early 2004, when disgruntled former members
of the army he had disbanded in 1995 took up arms against him.
Unlike previous occasions, Haiti’s poor were not prepared to
rise up and defend Aristide. He left the presidential palace for
exile once again with an escort of US soldiers, prompting further
controversy over the role of the US, as well as with that of
France, which fatally weakened him by publicly asking for him to
resign.
To those that say Haiti is a basket case and demand more foreign
intervention to save it from anarchy, socialists must respond that
too much foreign intervention is what has kept the Haiti
down.
At every turn, grassroots organisations of Haitian workers,
peasants and the urban poor have shown their resilience and will to
organise for a better life.
It is solidarity with their fight, not foreign occupation or phoney
elections that represent the way forward.