From Dessalines to Duvalier: Race, Colour and National Independence in Haiti: A Short Review

Image courtesy of http://www.blackpast.org/gah/duvalier-jean-claude-baby-doc-1951

I am not sure how I feel about the much-lauded From Dessalines to Duvalier: Race, Colour and National Independence in Haiti by David Nicholls. I have skimmed the book twice and recently read it about a month ago, and am not sure if Nicholls approaches his two areas of focus with enough nuance, the question of race or color and the ways in which Papa Doc's regime gained legitimacy or became an entrenched institution for decades. The text is clearly a classic because of its wide breadth, epic scope, and well-researched pages reveal how deep Nicholls delved into Haitian primary sources for his analysis, particularly his readings of 19th century Haitian writings to buttress his analysis of that crucial first century of Haitian independence.

However, one begins to wonder why he wrote such a long text when he contradicts and modifies his thesis on the importance of color in Haitian history. For example, on more than one occasion, he refers to instances of mixed-race Haitians allying themselves with 'black nationalism' or some form or 'noiriste' ideology, such as Thomas Madiou serving under Soulouque, Salnave, a light-skinned mulatto being a "product of the noiriste tradition of the north, the Afrocentrism of Carl Brouard, a mulatto, and numerous instances of prominent black or mulattoes serving or representing the interests of the Liberal or National parties despite the binary lens of black versus brown Nicholls wants to impose on political conflict.

Furthermore, he affirms the tendency among Haitian elites of all backgrounds to express pride in their being descendants of Africans, even when such Haitians were virtually indistinguishable from Europeans! For instance, Baron de Vastey, a mulatto supporter of Henri Christophe, wrote about the blackness of ancient Egypt and followed European travel narratives of the 18th and 19th century to dismiss the notion that all of contemporary Africa was a land of savagery. In addition, later elite mixed-race and black Haitians of the 19th century proudly alluded to their African ancestry in writings, saw Haiti as proof of racial equality, and mulatto Haitian thinkers were far more complex than the narrow lens of a 'mulatto legend' Nicholls attributes to them. Sure, all 19th century Haitian thinkers for the most part saw the Africa of their day as barbaric and considered European cultural norms and society as the barometer for success to a certain degree, but many argued for Haitian cultural autonomy (Nau and Lespinasse) or, like Janvier, Firmin and Sylvain, became involved in anti-racist scholarship, 'black nationalism' or pan-Africanism.

Indeed, by the 1890s and early 1900s, some Haitian writers wrote admiringly of African-derived traditions (Innocent, Dorsainvil). Thus, to me, Nicholls takes the rider on a rollercoaster ride across Haitian history by emphasizing the color question yet simultaneously illustrating how complex, surprising, and class-centered much of elite contests for power were in the first century of Haitian independence. He even writes about these conflicts as being more about rhetorical strategies and slight ideological differences among different sectors of the elite where color could arise as a point of conflict. This does now show the central role of color in Haitian social relations, but rather the importance of color in relation to class and  the ideology of race for elites (who may or may not endeavor to use it to legitimize their rule). In the case of Haiti, race seems to trump class, though naturally race as a social determinant is a function of class in some ways, and vice versa.

Personally, what would be of greater interest to me in terms of an analysis of notions of race, color and class is an analysis of black anciens libres and their mixed-race fellow free people of color from the colonial period into 19th century Haiti, where one can read more specifically into marriage and other forms of social interaction among black and brown elites in an attempt to measure class mobility and intra-class conflict from the days of French rule to independence. Such a feat could be done, and Nicholls himself hints at the class roots of much of Haitian political conflict, as well as the uncanny resemblance between black and mixed elites. In fact, based on Garrigus's Before Haiti and numerous essays on free people of color in the south of Saint Domingue, one can trace the rise of powerful families in Haitian history from the late colonial period, such Boisrond Tonnerre. Another interesting study could focus more on the broader ideological and pro-black messages of 19th century Haitian literature and relations with the Black Atlantic, which eschews some of the dichotomous black/mulatto lens used by Nicholls. More specifically, what is needed (or at least of interest to me and perhaps more useful for elucidating the origins and structure of Duvalierism and Haitian failures at accountable democratic governance) is vast research on social, political, religious, cultural, transnational, and other dimensions of Haitian history and society to avoid reductionist, one-dimensional readings of Haitian underdevelopment and poverty. If internal race/color conflicts is not the main factor, then of course neither is religion or popular culture (an idea still popular with some of the evangelical crowd in the US).

Of course, Haitian social elites largely interacted among themselves, married among themselves or foreigners, engaged in political and cultural spaces among themselves and inevitably mixed in some way, even if some light-skinned elites continued to look down on their darker-hued peers or rejected marriage alliances. Even some of the 'noiristes' from the school of the Griots such as Papa Doc married light-skinned or white women, formed close relationships with certain mulatto elite families, and incorporated them into the machinations of the state. As one of this blog's followers has revealed, one of the principal architects and ministers of Papa Doc's authoritarian rule was Gerard de Catalogne, who could have easily passed for white. Such instances unveil the silliness of nonsensical claims of a 'mulatto genocide' under Papa Doc. Moreover, his son, Baby Doc, married a mulatto woman from the bourgeoisie, though Burnham thinks this was one of the ways Baby Doc lost his legitimacy among the small black middle-class. Similarly, Aristide is accused of losing his legitimacy by marrying a light-skinned woman from the diaspora, Mildred Trouillot, an interesting perspective but one that would be minor in comparison to the much larger role played by elites and foreign interests in unseating Aristide (or a plethora of other reasons, such as corruption, mismanagement, and other alleged wrongdoings).

Consequently, the larger question of what ideological basis was resorted to under Papa Doc or various other Haitian governments is much larger than race itself, or even the rising black middle class and urban proletariat's alleged interest in naive black nationalism. Would the black middle-classes continue to support a predatory government that preys on their gullibility for so long? Was some form of 'noirism' really one of the significant things in consideration for middle-class Haitians during the Papa Doc years? I am not sure, and I don't believe Nicholls has said too much of substance on 20th century Haiti. The question of the rise of Duvalierism and the 20th century process through which it occurs is better left to other scholars, particularly the nuanced and detailed Red and Black in Haiti by Michael J. Smith. Reviewed by a fine literary scholar of Haiti, Dash, Smith's book is multi-dimensional, nuanced, detailed, and ignores some of the sweeping generalizations and contradictions of Nicholls, who, despite recognizing some of these aforementioned flaws that undermine his work, persists in believing in it. Dupuy's interesting analysis of Haitian underdevelopment helps locate the origins of Duvalierism in a vast array of Haitian and international social and economic forces that contributed to exploitation, autocracy, and meddling from the North to undermine Haitian democracy. Indeed, wasn't one of the main reasons Duvalier enjoyed American support because of his commitment to anti-Communism? I am sure US funding helped keep afloat his parasitic government that further drained the Haitian people of needed funds, social programs, and infrastructure. Alternatively, one could look much earlier into the established pattern of Haitian dictatorships throughout the 19th century for precedents of Duvalierism, such as Soulouque's regime, which also featured Vodou and other appeals to subaltern and elite "African" interests.

Overall, read Nicholls for a good overview of Haitian history, particularly in some of the fascinating figures of 19th century Haitian letters, but be wary of his color obsession and, in my opinion at this moment, his incomplete answer to the roots of legitimacy and acceptance of Papa Doc and Baby Doc. I actually need to do some very serious readings myself, since I am not nearly as informed as I should be though Duvalier is the reason my family came to America in the first place...