For Whom the Dogs Spy

Although Raymond Joseph's occasionally oversized ego mars the text, For Whom the Dogs Spy is a breezy read on 50 years of political change and conflict in Haiti. Beginning with his time in Radio Vonvon and the New York-based Haiti Observateur, Joseph chronicles his experience inside and outside of Haitian politics. The underground resistance Radio Vonvon was directed against Duvalier and relied on local informants for radio coverage and criticism of the Duvalier dictatorship. Then, with like-minded Haitians critical of the regime but not Communists, Joseph was part of the group that launched Haiti Observateur, which continued the criticism of the dictatorship that was inherited by Baby Doc. 

Joseph then transitioned to the Wall Street Journal before formally getting involved in Haiti politics as a diplomat. Much of the book is full of anecdotes about his role or contributions to helping Haiti, such as getting HOPE through Congress, making it easier for Préval to meet with Clintons or the appropriate powerful US figures, or his leadership role in defending the image of Haiti after the disastrous 2010 earthquake and securing international aid. Joseph clearly helped to combat Haiti's bad press and tried to combat corruption, inefficiency, and lack of transparency in Haiti's diplomatic staff. There is much to admire here.

Undoubtedly, Raymond Joseph accomplished much in his professional, political and personal lives. Unfortunately, we were sometimes wondering if his braggadocio style might obfuscate more nuanced events or meetings that took place. There was also a surprisingly light critique of Aristide that relied on some extreme language. It was clear that Joseph was not a fan of Lavalas, but to dismiss him as a terrorist because of his past rhetoric displayed a lack of the deeper analysis he exhibited in chapters on the Duvaliers, Préval, and Martelly, whose strongman presidency is covered by the final chapters of the text. We also wonder how Joseph feels today now that his cousin Wyclef's charity has been exposed and the Haiti is arguably in far worse conditions today. 

His several chapters on the ways in which Martelly avoided holding elections, intimidated and threatened the press, gave a pass to kidnappers and drug dealers, and engaged in unbridled public corruption and embezzlement with the tacit approval of the "international community" clearly paved the road to the Hell of Haiti after the assassination of Martelly's successor. Perhaps because of his own political orientation and relationships with powerful US politicians, their role in supporting or cosigning the calamitous, undemocratic elections and transitions have led to the miasma of today. Nonetheless, we hope Joseph writes another book on his experiences in Haiti's troubled democratic transition and the legacy of Duvalierism. Too often one finds young Haitians who believe Duvalier was Haiti at its best, or they have never been taught the darker chapters in their history of repression, state terror, and violence under Papa Doc and Baby Doc. 

Black Nomads of the Sahara

Although only about a third of Jean Chapelle's ethnographic study of the Tubu peoples, Nomades noirs du Sahara: les Toubous, was particularly useful for our purposes, we highly recommend it as a synthesis of various colonial-era sources on the Teda-Daza peoples of the Sahara and Sahel regions. Despite Chapelle's personal experience on the ground in Chad, many chapters draw on earlier studies by colonial officers who collected local traditions which formed the basis for this books conclusions and historical outlook. It is undoubtedly a dated work and reflects, perhaps, some of the colonial obsession with the "mixed" racial origins of the Tubu. Nevertheless, it was a refreshing read for its acknowledgement of the Tubu origins of the Sayfawa dynasty and the role of constant migrations and shifting lifestyles (from nomads to sedentary agriculturalists) across the history of the region. We only wish more was said about clans of Tubu origins in Kanem and Borno and the ways in which Kanembu and Kanuri communities have continued or inherited Tubu practices. Nonetheless, if the ethnographic present can be used to fairly deduce how the Saharan ancestors of the rulers of Kanem lived several centuries ago, this book might give one an idea of how early Kanem could have looked with a "Zaghawa" ruling dynasty and sedentary farmers in the Kanem region paying tribute and engaging in reciprocal exchange. Like the Tubu chiefs and Derdes of more recent times, perhaps the early mais were associated with religious rituals on behalf of the clan, including rites attached to rain, harvests, and sadagas.

The Hausa Factor in West African History

As an overview of the complex origins of Hausa communities across most of West Africa, Mahdi Adamu's The Hausa Factor in West African History is worth reading. It covers the spread of Hausa traders, artisans, malams, and other assimilated non-Hausa from the 16th century until the early 20th century, though most of its sources seem to cover the 18th and 19th centuries. Adamu's study illustrates how Islam, mobility, and Hausa cultural and economic practices and institutions were able to facilitate the development of markets, local industries (like textiles and leather goods), exchange, and link much of West Africa through Hausa-identified merchants and communities. 

Based on mostly European primary sources and oral sources from informants of Hausa origin (or connections) in Nigeria, Ghana, Benin and various countries in the region, Adamu occasionally can trace the origin of some Hausa and Hausa-identified Borno, Nupe, and Wangara traders who became economically important in the Bight of Benin, Middle Belt of Nigeria, Gold Coast, Mali, and Senegal. It is certainly an impressive, centuries-long process of economic integration, mercantilism, and proof that the economy of precolonial West Africa cannot be simply described as a subsistence one. 

However, there are occasional errors and inaccuracies which mar the general narrative and we're still in the dark about the early penetration of Hausa traders in several regions discussed by the author. For example, Adamu erroneously refers to traveler Wargee as an Arab. There's even an incorrect labeling of the do Rego family as being of Yoruba origin rather than Kanike or Kanuri extraction. He also mistakenly assumes Labat actually visited Dahomey even though he was merely publishing the travel report of another Frenchman. In addition, we were alarmed by Adamu referencing the correspondence of Sir Joseph Banks casting doubt about the authenticity of some of the information provided by Lucas on West Africa. 

However, when we actually scoured said correspondence for references to West Africa, Tripoli and the Fezzan, we did not find anything so alarming that casts doubt on the information of Lucas and Ledyard on Borno or Hausaland. Moreover, we also have our own doubts about the accuracy or authenticity of some of the sources utilized by Adamu. For instance, Damberger, whose narrative was a hoax, is cited favorably for identifying "Haoussa" or "Hausa" as Yawuri, even though the vast commercial center described in some of the European sources does not necessarily need to have been a single place or entrepot. 

Despite our quibbles and problems with Adamu's text, we still recommend it for anyone interested in how the Hausa language and culture have become so widespread in Africa. For those interested in the economic history of the Central Sudan, it supplements Lovejoy's work on the salt and kolanut trade by focusing on the Hausa communities outside of Hausaland who played such a key role in the movement of these aforementioned commodities. For those of us who are interested in Borno and the Kanuri, there are occasional references to Bareberi or Beriberi Kanuri traders and malams in many of these Hausa enclaves outside the Central Sudan. Indeed, Adamu's conclusions suggest the "Kambarin Beriberi" or "Hausa" traders of Kanuri origin may have been established in Hausa trading centers in some areas long before the 19th century. 

Zombie Files

Zombie Files: Gangs, Drugs, Politics and Voodoo under the Mandate of the United Nations by Max Kail is one of those books whose title alone will deter some readers. The title and occasional references to disturbing things such as human sacrifice and even cannibalism will raise alarm and cause others to dismiss the author as a racist or liar. That's actually quite a shame. Max Kail, presumably a pseudonym, offers an important insider perspective on how ineffective MINUSTAH was at stabilizing Haiti with occasionally useful insights on the nature of the narco-state cabal that runs Haiti and participates or enables kidnappings, gang violence, political corruption, and drug-trafficking. 

However, Kail's title and some of the repetition of hearsay and negative tropes of Haiti's "Voodoo" religion is unacceptable in some quarters. Of course, the reality is quite different and Haitian people themselves have reported cases of (or suspected cases) of human sacrifice and violence driven by beliefs in sorcery or magic. Indeed, there is undoubtedly a darker side to magico-religious worldviews, one in which Vodou is a part of albeit often maligned as black magic. And Kail is probably correct about the darker side of this worldview being used or exploited by gang leaders, the economic elite, and corrupt politicians to plot their actions or terrorize the population. Whether or not a Cite Soleil gang leader actually eats the hearts of rivals or ritually sacrifices a person on a full moon does not matter so much if it reinforces the reputation of certain people as dangerous, terrifying, and ruthless. We just wish the author could have offered more evidence of some of his assertions, like the role of a manbo in assisting Clifford Brandt's kidnapping ring or Aristide's father as a houngan. 

The true value of the text lies in Kail's perspective on the failure of MINUSTAH. In order to actually make a positive difference in Haiti, Kail had to join an unofficial anti-kidnapping working group that actually gathered data and intel with the support of people like Reginald Delva and reliable HNP to arrest the perpetrators. With like-minded others, he had earlier played a role in the targeting of gangs and making Cite Soleil, the notorious slum, safer than other parts of Port-au-Prince. Unfortunately, the UN's own internal bureaucracy, corruption, incompetence, and desire to work with the local government undermined all their attempts to actually improve Haiti for the vast majority of the population. The aforementioned cabal of politicians and wealthy business interests are heavily involved in the drug trade since the 1980s (with Col. Michel Francois, a friend of Martelly) and then the large, effective cartel of Jacques Ketant which appears to have been close with Aristide. In order for them to maximize their profits and power, Haiti must remain a key transit point for narcotics to enter the US and the profits from the drug trade as well as political corruption and aid must continue. 

Several of the examples examined or mentioned in the text have been documented in Haitian and international journalism, so one knows Kail did not fabricate or exaggerate. It is a long, sordid history of corrupt politicians, drug traffickers, gang-elite partnerships, manufactured crises and riots, and real humanitarian disasters which clearly illustrates how morally repugnant the Haitian elites are as well as the collusion of international forces (like the UN) with this savagely inhumane political economic system that disenfranchises and excludes the majority of the population. Basically, Kail is doing in a less academic form what scholars like Fatton have done, showing how the Haitian prebendary state or the "state against nation" framing of Trouillot has acted in the last 20 years since Aristide's second term. Sadly, Haiti today in 2022 seems to have continued on the path of this inexorable decline and impunity continues to be enjoyed by many of the "usual suspects" (Acra, Boulos, Mevs, Latortue, Martelly, Vorbe, and others in this rogues gallery).