The Haitian People

Somehow we here at the blog have managed to read parts of Leyburn or follow the scholarship of social scientists and historians who are heavily influenced by Leyburn without actually completing his well-known The Haitian People. After finally reading the entire study, one cannot escape how dated it was and incorrect some of its conclusions and predictions were. While perhaps best known for its insistent focus on the theme of a caste nature of Haitian social structure, Leyburn's detailed social history of the 19th century and overview of economics, domestic affairs, politics, Creole, and religion is actually quite researched and occasionally insightful or useful.

However, Leyburn famously did not foresee the reappearance of non-elite noir presidents after Lescot's presidency. And he did not dedicate enough attention to the "middling" sector of Haitian society who were neither the masses (the peasantry) or the elite (educated, urban, wealthy, often light-skinned), the very sector who became so important to Haitian politics after 1946. Perhaps, like Beaulieu, we think Haiti was transitioning from the caste-like social order that may have prevailed in the 19th century (although with so many caveats that calling it caste is probably  misleading) to something else during and after the US Occupation. But fixating too heavily on the color question and lacking enough thorough research on regional and historical social mobility, the "middling" sector that gradually asserted itself in Haitian politics was unforeseen by Leyburn.

For us, Leyburn's view of the Haitian peasant as completely isolated and cut off from the rest of the world contributed to the weaknesses of his analysis. For instance, he ignores the existence and influence of foreigners from other parts of Caribbean and the rest of the world in Haitian towns and the countryside. By insisting on a false view of 19th century Haiti as cut off from the rest of the world, it becomes easier for him to conclude rural Haitians were always resistant to change, new ideas, and complexity. This view is further challeged by the thousands of Haitian migrants who labored in Cuba and the Dominican Republic, often returning with new ideas, consumer spending habits, and ideas of the world which challenged tradition and custom. Leyburn even lets US racial stereotypes of African Americans in the Jim Crow South shape his perception of Haitians, particularly in their alleged submissiveness and acceptance of their plight. This is odd since Leyburn reports contradictory data, such as the use of song and music for political and social critique of politicians. Not to mention Leyburn's omission of the political dimensions of peasant resistance in some caco and piquet movements, which evinces signs of political ideology, awareness, and independent organizing among the peasantry. 

It is a shame, since he was probably one of the least racist American social scientists to write about Haiti in the 1940s yet he could not escape his American background. This is ironic as he asserted US social scientists would be better than Haitian elite scholars for studying Haitian social structure. But in his conclusions on the "ambivalence" experienced by many of the elite, and implied in upwardly mobile Haitians, Leyburn seems to affirm Herskovits and the theory of socialized ambivalence. This may explain part of the reason for the persistence of "caste" in post-occupation Haiti as those of the elite and upwardly mobile remain internally divided, troubled, and disturbed by their contradictory status in the world and must maintain distance from the unlettered masses for psychological, social, and economic reasons. So, despite its flaws and limitations, The Haitian People makes for thought-provoking reading that also exemplifies the transnational aspects of American sociology's approach to race and the "Negro."