Kaiama Glover and Haiti

A worthwhile lecture from Kaiama Glover on how discourses of Haiti after (and before) the 2010 earthquake are predicated on an anti-African, anti-black bias. Media reports of Haiti during and after that catastrophe often emphasize Haiti's links with Africa as a way of denigrating and Othering Haiti.

Farewell, Fred Voodoo

I finally read Amy Wilentz's commendable Farewell, Fred Voodoo. Unfortunately, it lacks the biting punch of Jonathan M. Katz's investigative journalism on the subject, but compensates by bringing great affection, a longer history of commitment and interest in Haiti, and providing portraits of some of the leading figures in the reconstruction effort with great depth. Indeed, I had no idea who Megan Coffee is, the power of Digicel in Haiti, or the nuances of Sean Penn's work in Haiti. If you do not expect something of great academic or historical meaning, this is a well-written love letter to the people of Haiti. Alas, Wilentz probably repeats some historical errors (can one really say Haiti has never had a 'good' government?) and at times I wish she delved deeper into her thoughts on Aristide, but she has written an excellent text on the relief efforts, the innate problems of how humanitarian aid and NGOs are part of a long history of globalization and exploitation in Haiti.

The Caribbean at the Epicenter of History: Haiti, the Earthquake, and Tr...

A worthwhile (and short) video to watch.

The Big Truck That Went By: How the World Came to Save Haiti and Left Behind a Disaster

I finally read journalist Jonathan M. Katz's heartfelt and enlightening perspective on the international community's response to the diastrous 2010 earthquake that destroyed Port-au-Prince. Although a journalist, Katz clearly wrote a well-researched account of the numerous follies of the West's perception of Haiti, how NGOs, Western states, and the media contributed to the problem, and how Haiti's politically stability and democratization was further weakened as a result.

Katz, narrowly escaping from AP's Petionville house when the earthquake struck, followed developments closely. He notes how the media, NGOs, and Western governments exaggerated the extent to which rioting and social unrest would happen in the earthquake's aftermath, rightly criticized the influence and power of foreigners like Sean Penn who disseminated false information, as well as noting the problematic militarized distribution of aid from the US (which, assuming riots and unrest, likely slowed down the pace of rescue efforts and aid to the hundreds of thousands who lost their lives and homes). Katz also challenges the hypocritical stance of the US and the international community at large regarding corruption in Haiti, which was the rationale used by various agencies to argue against direct aid to the Haitian state.

Agreeing with Katz, I find it hard to see how not directly channeling aid to the Préval government would help, since the anti-corruption government agency in Haiti (as well as numerous other departments, institutions, and jobs) were sorely lacking in cash necessary to operate successfully or rebuild their destroyed offices. Thus, Western hypocrisy regarding widespread corruption in places like the US weakened Préval's and the Haitian state's ability to direct reconstruction and services in the worst humanitarian disaster to ever hit the hemisphere.

In addition, Katz makes it quite clear how most of the billions of aid raised by donor countries and financial institutions never found its way to Haiti, instead staying mostly within donor countries, dispersed through NGOs (which used much of the funds for costs of operation, paying for their own comfort, etc.), spent irresponsibly by US institutions, fed into UN organizations in Haiti, and under control by a foreign-dominated management group. In addition, the Collier report, favored by Clinton, Haiti's business elite, a South Korean garment factory operator, the UN, and other influential people continued an old pattern of failed strategies to challenge poverty in Haiti. Indeed, as Katz reminds us, the garment factory industry (or sweatshops, since most garment factories in Haiti don't comply with workers' right standards or the Haitian minimum wage law) never paid enough to lift workers out of poverty, led to an concentration of people in Port-au-Prince (fueling the creation of large slums), and left when wages rose and the workers became more skilled. Clearly, the Clintons, Sean Penn, the Martelly government, Boulos, some NGOs, and many donor countries saw an opportunity to make money off human suffering, which is exactly what happened.

Although lacking the term used by Naomi Klein, clearly there is an undercurrent of her work in Katz's coverage of the undemocratic, foreign-led transition of power in Haiti (as well as the eventual establishment of a tax-free garment factory in Caracol, far away from Port-au-Prince). In addition, Katz is not afraid to attack imperialistic bullying and coercion by the US and other donors, who used the threat of stalling aid and needed reconstruction efforts to ensure an obedient Préval. Undoubtedly, Haitian sovereignty was not a priority for most of the international community in the aftermath of the earthquake, a persisting problem that reared its ugly head in the farce of an election that led to Martelly's election. However, Katz is quick to note a corrupt land deal that led to hundreds of thousands being pushed in tarps out of Port-au-Prince (in a floodplain!) and other instances of Haitians colluding against their sovereignty and economic well-being.

All in all, Katz's book is an accessible, highly readable account of disaster capitalism and how neoliberal-oriented development in 'the republic of NGOs' has contributed to a catastrophe almost as horrifying as the earthquake itself. From cholera to a quasi-Duvalierist state, the reconstruction efforts to build back better in Haiti will likely take several decades to rectify.

Julia Alvarez's A Wedding in Haiti

I finally read Alvarez's A Wedding in Haiti and though it was endearing, full of detail on the personal life of Alvarez (as well as forms of Dominican 'whiteness' in Santiago), and well-intentioned, it was sad to see how dependent she was on foreign white writers for understanding Haiti's history (something she compares to a nightmare at one point and exaggerates the extent of a 'genocide' against the remaining whites in Haiti during the days of Dessalines). But her relationship with the Haitian worker Piti and his family (and that of his Eseline, his future wife, which inspires the first trip to Haiti taken by Alvarez, her husband, etc.) is useful for looking at symbiotic and positive relationships between Haitians and Dominicans, even if it began with Alvarez and her white American husband starting a coffee farm, inherently unequal power relations.

What I particularly enjoyed was some of the rather repetitive and silly human drama that comes with all couples or trips. Alvarez and her husband, Bill, fighting and arguing, especially on their second trip to Haiti after the earthquake, was actually humorous and provided a fully human portrait of herself and her companions. Moreover, she has a very compassionate take on Haiti post-earthquake, describing in sad detail the devastation of Port-au-Prince, her own guilt and fears (she's influenced by the media reports of large-scale violence and crime in Haiti), and the obvious social inequality. Unfortunately, Alvarez lacks a more critical lens that sees beyond the benign intentions of missionaries, aid workers, and NGOs as a contributor to dependency and the inability of the Haitian state to develop accountability.

She does get to see rural Haiti (Moustique and other small villages and towns, for instance), go to Le Cap, visits Port-au-Prince (including spending a night in Petionville with a wealthy son of an American and a Tuareg woman from Niger, Adam), gets a personal tour of the capital from a Haitian police officer assigned at the Dominican consulate, experiences Haiti while driving across the country (from Santiago in the DR to all over the Haitian countryside (for the wedding, one in which Piti and Eseline are chastized for premarital relations!). It's an interesting book for sure, and certainly speaks to the possibility for people of different cultures, races, and languages to communicate, as Alvarez did with Eseline, her mother, her own parents deteriorating due to age and Alzheimer's, and Haitian people she encounters, such as one woman she shares an extra portion of pineapple (or was it mango?) with. Like I said previously, it's an endearing book written with simple prose that is immediately accessible and likely a reflection of some of the Dominican goodwill and interest in less combative or hostile relations with the sibling on the other side of the island. Who knows, maybe I'll finally read How The Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents, a novel given to me by a friend.