Showing posts with label Haitian Studies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Haitian Studies. Show all posts

Monday, June 29, 2015

The Idea of Haiti: Rethinking Crisis and Development

The Idea of Haiti: Rethinking Crisis and Development, edited by Millery Polyné, is uneven but useful for general and academic audiences. The text consists of a collection of essays and one phone conversation on Haitian development and the need for new narratives and approaches after the 2010 earthquake. Some essays were quite informative and challenged common notions of Haitian underdevelopment or responses to the earthquake, particularly Karen Richman's nuanced explanation of Protestant conversions in Leogane after the catastrophe. Instead of arguing, like some Western journalists did, that Haitians turned away from Vodou after the earthquake because the lwa did not stop the natural disaster (clearly, these US journalists know nothing about Vodou, as Richman demonstrates), Richman argues that we must see the religious landscape of Haiti as fluid and inseparable as people adopted new religious identities for various reasons, often temporary. 

Understanding and respecting Vodou is one of the central themes of the text (McAlister's excellently researched essay on Bois Caiman as a pact with Satan in the eyes of evangelical Christians was also informative) tied to the need for inclusion of grassroots organizations, the peasantry, and the urban lower classes in government and decisions made by NGOs. In a similar context, arguing for the philosophical underpinnings of Haitian univeralist freedom and the importance of the Haitian Revolution, as well as the detrimental impact of the Western powers, indicates the importance of understanding Haiti's history, positive meanings and contributions of the nation, and how Haiti cannot be solely reduced to a aberration of international standards or crises. Patrick Sylvain's essay buttresses these points, too, focusing on the silence of Preval in the aftermath of the quake as a lost opportunity for fostering Haitian solidarity and national identity. The President's failure to speak to the people was, as Sylvain suggests, a form of violence that materialized in protest, anger, social distrust, and lamentable conditions as NGOs and the US became the real arbiters of authority and providing services in the Port-au-Prince metropolitan area. 

The impact of NGOs on taking away resources from the Haitian state and lacking any real accountability to Haitian citizens is also superbly elucidated by Mark Schuller through his analysis of several camps established after the earthquake for internally displaced people. Moreover, the funding of NGOs and the shift after the Cold War in donors' relationship with NGOs was new information to me, and quite useful for explaining how Haiti became the 'Republic of NGOs. The transformation of Port-au-Prince, also included in the text, was a dry read but the essay on Duvalier's relationship with Kennedy via the Alliance for Progress aid program was an enlightening reminder to the geopolitical and strategic purposes of international aid  the difficulties of delivering that aid to the Haitian state. The author of that essay, Arthus, unfortunately, seems to have a more conservative conclusion that is at odds with most of the other writers, but certainly is in the right for placing part of the burden on the Haitian state for not taking enough measures to ensure compliance with some of the conditions of donors for aid. 

Unfortunately, Yveline Alexis's chapter was the weakest part of the text. It was lacking in enough sources and felt redundant, which is odd given how strong her dissertation on the same subject reads. Regardless, her chapter supports the aforementioned role of remembering the caco resistance as part of Haitian historical memory, just like Bois Caiman, as important in Haitian self-identity and key to local ideas of democracy as rooted in the popular classes. Nesbitt's chapter, alas, was too pedantic for my taste and nothing new from his earlier writings, but useful for introducing new concepts and arguing for Haiti's place in history as part of universal liberation, not as the cause of Haiti's 'ruin' or persistent series of crises. Fischer's essay on Gilden's photography was likewise one of the weaker sections of the text, albeit certainly important for understanding how Haiti is framed by the outside world as exceptional, savage, mysterious, irrational, ultimately working against the possibility of supporting a sovereign Haiti.

For scholars and lay audiences, this is certainly a worthwhile read. The editor's useful introduction places everything into context and the essays, for the most part by Haitians or Haitian-Americans, offer different perspectives that reorient questions of development and what Haiti represents to those more meaningful to Haitians. Instead of blindly supporting NGOs, Western governments, and imperialist or racist readings of Haiti's history and present poverty, one must see Haiti as part of modernity (the incarnation of the radical Enlightenment, to paraphrase Nesbitt) that is a highly complex society in need of multiple solutions (some, seemingly so simple, like formal cadastres). Overall, the text seems consistent with leftist ideas on Haitian development, while some individual essays in the text are more aligned with neoliberal development.

Monday, December 29, 2014

Some Haiti-Related Posts

I came across some great, useful, and interesting posts pertaining to Haiti in the past few days. La Revue Indigène, started by the moderators of Haitian History on Tumblr, has posted again. Haitian History on Tumblr has also posted a useful overview of Duvalierism. And last but certainly not least, two lists of great 2014 books on Haiti from The Public Archive and Celucien Joseph are online.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Michel-Rolph Trouillot's Haiti, State Against Nation: The Origins and Legacy of Duvalierism

 “It must be said in all sincerity that in Haiti, the most productive, the most useful class is surely the peasantry. After all, is it not this class alone that pays taxes? Is it not they who bear all the nation’s costs?” 

Finally got around to completing Trouillot's well-written text. The man was a gifted writer unafraid to use the first person or throw in sarcastic and bitter words toward certain figures of Haitian history, such as Beaubrun Ardouin. Ever since I first read his excellent essay on the rise of free people of color planters due to the coffee boom in Saint Domingue a few years ago, and his Silencing the Past was also a thought-provoking read. After his untimely death, I felt reading his Haiti, State Against Nation: The Origins and Legacy of Duvalierism was a must. Furthermore, I heard a humorous story involving him and a former professor of mine traveling in Cuba. Not to speak ill of the dead, but Trouillot apparently recoiled in fear when the two were approached by a beggar in Cuba!

Returning to the text, Trouillot traces the development of Duvalierism before Duvalier to the colonial period and early independent black and mulatto-led governments of the 19th century. Indeed, as he pointed out through a careful examination of the writings of Beaubrun Ardouin, an important figure in Haitian liberalism, Ardouin was the first to articulate a form of despotism in which the Executive held complete control and civil servants were to comply at all times. Furthermore, Trouillot is adamant about the key roles of Petion and Boyer in establishing the pattern in which Haiti became the "Merchant's Republic" where foreign merchants dictated the course of the political system.

Of course, some of the blame for the militarized structure of governance could be attributed to Toussaint Louverture or Dessalines, but, according to Trouillot, Dessalines tried in vain to curb the power of foreign merchants (while urging for capitalist accumulation within the state sector, according to Trouillot) while Petion and Boyer actively courted them and ensured the republic would cater to their needs. This, unsurprisingly, helped fuel merchants cheating the Haitian government, threatening the nation with protective consulships (something Raybaud himself did during the Soulouque years), and worked against the peasantry, the only productive group in Haitian society through indirect taxation on their coffee and other export items at the customshouses (which was unfair for placing favorable duties on luxury goods for elites, hurt peasant producers who received less and less for their coffee and other products but had to pay more for agricultural and other imports from the United States and Europe and the peasantry had few options to resist it, given their exclusion from the towns and cities dominated by the import and export firms acting in collusion with the Haitian state. Indeed, foreign consignment merchants also became powerful in Haiti's coastal towns, including prominent families such as the Brouards, Sutherlands, Prices, and Milroys, who, like the rest of the international trading community in Haiti, "fed on the political, financial, and military instability of the state, and had an objective interest in the rate of political succession, since every regime offered them a new and greedier clique of customers” (72).

In a very similar manner as Dupuy, Plummer, and Dubois, Trouillot illustrates how the Haitian taxation system and death of the plantation economy (despite attempts to revive it, such as during the reigns of Louverture, Dessalines, and Christophe, which Trouillot claims only succeeded due to their black skins and honorable positions as military heroes, surely a position a frequent critic of this blog would disagree with) led to many mulatto elites switching to retail and government to profit of the peasantry and their marginalization in the various dictatorships and military coups that claimed power in Port-au-Prince. Foreign merchants benefited the most from this arrangement, providing loans to the Haitian government to keep it standing while using the threat of US or European invasions to ensure compliance with their demands, hence the violation of Haitian waters dozens of times in the second half of the 19th century.

In this context of European and US contempt for Haitians and the threats and intimidation that went hand in hand with the Haitian elite of all shades preying on the vast majority of the people, it's no surprise that productivity stagnated, the population increased, more and more people moved to the cities and Port-au-Prince especially, and the Haitian economy was trapped in a state of dependence and underdevelopment. Without any capital from taxes used by the state or elite to fund technological innovation (well, except for Geffrard, Salomon, and a few industrialists in Haiti and their foreign partners), combined with the corruption of Haitian politicians using government funds to purchase luxuries they believed were deserved, Haitian levels of coffee exports fell despite rising population and their close trade relationships with the US, Germany, France, and other European powers.

One example particularly pertinent is the estimated 150 million francs in gold Boyer and his cronies squandered from the leftovers of Henri Christophe's treasury. What happened to the money? Presumably, it went into the pockets of Boyer, Inginac, and their other closed circle of mulatto elites and the foreign merchants who supplied them with unnecessary luxurious imports. Or, to quote an example from the Soulouque regime, his appointed nobility numbered in the hundreds and drained the treasury far more than Henri Christophe's underpaid and significantly fewer nobility in the North. Soulouque also spent over 30,000 francs one year for a fine French coat one year, the same as his budget for education! Papa Doc's government had numerous examples from the 19th century for corruption, repression, and poor fiscal policy.

In order to demonstrate the weakness of the landowners in post-emancipation Haiti, Trouillot cites Beaubrun Ardouin himself, writing about his inability to control the movement of workers from his plantation or what they chose to produce and take for themselves! In addition, the black landowners of the North also took to politics and the military to enrich themselves, while the import-export bourgeoisie remained more mulatto-controlled, perhaps due to their closer phenotype to whites. Trouillot does not offer a definitive answer to that, but certainly diplomats discriminated against darker-hued Haitians, why not many white businessmen?

On the color question, Trouillot provides some insights lacking in other accounts of Haitian history and social relations. For instance, from what I can recall, Dubois and Dupuy do not delve deeper in the the demographic signifiance of the clair groups in Haiti today. How could such a small minority of the population from Saint Domingue, who lost signifiant numbers during the Haitian Revolution, still appear so numerous in 20th century Haiti? Of course, the fluctuating boundaries between 'black' and the 'mulâtre' have shifted multiple times, allowing certain people to become 'mulatto' when a century ago, they would have never passed. Indeed, regardless of color classifications or the fact that not just any noir could marry a clair, the question of color among black and mulatto elites in Haitian political history was never about democracy or sharing power with the black masses, something visible in the Duvalier years when the bourgeoisie and handy mulattoes benefited from supporting or accepting Papa Doc and Baby Doc. 

The 'color question' and conflicts associated with it in Haitian politics was also compounded by Trouillot's 'urban parasites,' a problematic term but, if I understand correctly, refers to the urban proletariat and servants of the state and other members of the Haitian population not engaged in productive labor but merely waiting and betting on political crises to enrich themselves of serve another dysfunctional state. This system consisting of the political marginalization of the peasantry and accumulation of the urban sector into the political realm was contradictory and made political strife inevitable, which thereby helped 'justify' US occupation for some. This crisis in the system was already almost at its nadir in the 1860s, when Geffrard could not control the countryside, revolts were spreading each year, coffee prices and cotton were down, and Geffrard had to rely on the British to stay in power.

Unfortunately, the pattern did not end, but only grew worse after US occupation centralized the system in Port-au-Prince and removed what Trouillot calls the 'feeble restraints' of the system. Soon, everything was leaving through Port-au-Prince, impoverished peasants and the growing black middle-class were moving to Port-au-Prince and other towns, and the military apparatus was more centralized, too. Papa Doc, from 1957-1964, merely had to neutralize opposition in the government institutions, already conveniently centralized through Port-au-Prince, and then declare himself President-for-Life. Duvalier was following in the more recent footsteps of the repression of Magloire, too, for both persecuted the political opposition and changed the face of Haitian political violence. Women were, for the first time, valid targets and anyone nearby or related to a target was fair game. This is much worse than the assassination of Dessalines, when at least Petion had the honor to promise her the protection of the Haitian state!

Anyway, the Duvalier dictatorships witnessed the rise of totalitarianism, a specific cult of personality centered on Papa Doc, the worsening share of peasant-producers in Haiti's exports, a kleptocracy with little restraints, pervasive and new forms of violence, and the reduction of the state to Papa Doc himself. His son, no better for Haiti, ruled in a period of increasing prices for food, excessive flaunting of his wealth and ties to wealthy elites, and popular discontent and the eventual uprisings. However, as Trouillot indicates in his book, dictatorships, the Haitian state acting against the nation, or the majority of its inhabitants, were and are not new phenomena.

Yet, Trouillot leaves many questions unanswered. How, for instance, can he say peasants were not aware of who to blame or direct for their worsening poverty in the late 19th and 20th centuries? Even in the 1840s, the Piquet peasant uprisings in the South directed their anger at the exploitative taxation system instituted by Petion and Boyer's governments. Would peasants in the second half of the same century not know who to blame, despite being included in caco uprisings in the North and various military leaders who took it upon themselves to lead a coup against Port-au-Prince? I am sure peasants would have realized they were still being cheated by the same indirect taxation of the Boyer years and the influx of peasants into the coastal towns and interior market towns would have exposed them to the intricacies of urban Haiti and economic/political power. Indeed, as Trouillot argues himself, Haiti was never a society of two separate castes, but rather complementary and unequal worlds where peasants and elites were inseparable sides of the same coin representing society.

Overall, a fascinating overview of Haitian society and a convincing case for the origins of Duvalierism in the 19th century economic and political structure. A frequent topic on this blog, the numerous ways in which Boyer and his cronies firmly institutionalized the patterns of systemic underdevelopment and undemocratic practices, partly inherited from the colonial era and a world hostile to black independence, are fully detailed by Trouillot. However, the question of peasant resistance and pushes for social change requires a secondary look to avoid problematic silence on the question of subaltern agency. Basically, what I would like to see is a thorough account of ex-slaves and their descendants in rural Haiti from the 19th century to the present which may shed some light on the inner thinking of peasant communities and moments in which their actions and reactions shaped the national government (and beyond some of the more obvious ways, such as peasant resistance to the Code Rural).

Well, let me know what you think? Thoughts on Duvalierism and the long first century of Haitian independence? Could capitalist accumulation in the state sector under Dessalines have succeeded in curbing the power of foreign merchants and allow for innovation and improvements in the Haitian economy?

Monday, July 8, 2013

Thoughts on Dubois's Haiti: The Aftershocks of History


Laurent Dubois, Duke University professor and specialist in Haitian history, has written a very accessible, yet powerful and meaningful history of Haiti from it's revolutionary past to the 21st century. A very ambitious project, Dubois nevertheless cuts back on the Aristide and post-Aristide years, particularly on the question of whether or not Aristide's government succumbed to corruption and the function of a predatory state which has characterized Haiti's central government for quite some time, prior to the Duvaliers. In addition, Dubois's coverage of MINUSTAH and the current affairs of Haiti is quite brief, though clearly he is in opposed to perhaps most of the international community's responses to post-earthquake Haiti, such as the unnecessary UN presence or the various forms of economic imperialism that have defined relations between Haiti and the 'great powers,' such as France, the United States, Germany, and others. His evaluation of the self-declared emperor Soulouque is also fresh in that it avoids the racist generalizations and stereotypes of previous scholars, and his analysis of the violent period of American occupation in the early 20th century demonstrates the power of transnational ties between cacos in Haiti and similar groups operating in the Dominican borderlands, also resisting American occupation. Furthermore, his defense of the "counter-plantation" mindset of Haitian ex-slaves and their rural, Kreyol-speaking descendants is useful for dismantling some of the racist myths regarding Haitians as lazy or barbarous as well as a useful historical precedent for analyzing the troubles with attempts to institute sweatshop-styled labor and other forms of exploitation in Haiti after the earthquake, such as the industrial park in the north of the country, far away from the center of the earthquake. All in all, Dubois's text is necessary for all initiates in Haitian studies or a general audience interested in learning more about the nation after the horrendous earthquake and the ignorant, racist statements about Haiti and its history coming from the likes of Pat Robertson and the mainstream Western press. 

His writings on post-revolutionary Haiti in the first half of the 19th century is also very useful. He clearly has benefitted from other scholarship, such as that of Mimi Sheller. His coverage of both Alexandre Petion/Jean-Pierre Boyer and Henri Christophe's leadership actually supports that of a commentator on this blog, with the latter being a more positive force for the betterment of the rural population than the latter. Although Christophe's rule was more progressive in some ways, all successors to Dessalines, Toussaint, Sonthonax, Poverel, and the French colonial system maintained a militarized system of governance where democratic, civil institutions were neglected or suppressed and the Kreyol-speaking, rural majority of the population were mostly left out of the formal political process. 

According to Dubois, Christophe supported public education (13 schools in Christophe's kingdom were created between 1816-1820, and perhaps as many as 72,000 students benefitted from these initiatives, and a medical school was established in Le Cap through the use of Duncan Stewart, a Scottish doctor), introduced legal reform, some of which was progressive (such as legislation intended to curb deforestation),  all inhabitants without a specialized skill and not appointed to a landed aristocratic position to oversee parishes or members of the military had to work on a plantation, and the Code Henry limited the movement of the workers, but recognized their right to wages (1/4 of annual production), stipulated that landowners had to provide medical service, and, theoretically, the rural population could complain to royal officials. Christophe also sought to introduce the plow to improve Haitian agriculture, but language barriers impeded it's dissemination. 

In addition, Christophe saw Haiti as needed to prove the capabilities of the African or black race, so, despite a paternalistic attitude toward his subjects, intellectuals of color, such as de Vastey, or Prince Saunders, worked with the king and wrote on topics relevant to the king's interest in demonstrating the equality of the races. Though Christophe, like Petion, Boyer and their predecessors (Dessalines, Toussaint, the colonial state), did not practice a democratic form of governance, according to his own laws, the people legally had the right to resist unfair labor relations with elites. What's more, Christophe had the French agent, de Medina, executed upon learning about his mission to reenslave Haiti through acceptance of French sovereignty in 1814. Christophe refused the indemnity to France for lost (human) property in the course of the Haitian Revolution, which probably helps explain his interest in securing a British alliance and his close relationship with British abolitionists, such as Wilberforce and Clarkson, who apprised the king on European affairs. Oh, and Dubois suggests that Christophe was the first to attempt to attract African-American free black settlers to Haiti, which is why Clarkson introduced him to Prince Saunders, an educated free black from the US. 

What is unclear, however, is the question of how the famous Citadel was constructed. Dubois hints at forced labor, which would, naturally, lead to popular resentment. Why, exactly, the soldiers of his kingdom revolted, remains unanswered in Dubois's book, but the king's stroke, immobilizing him, created a space for a military revolt. This could either hint at solely military leaders' unhappiness with Christophe's system or style of rule, but soon after his death, Boyer, successor of Petion's republic in the southern half of Haiti, would reunite the country. If soldiers were the main coercive agent in enforcing the peasant majority to remain on large estates, how did peasants then respond to the death of Christophe? These are questions I want to know, but were not answered by Dubois's overview of Haitian history.

As for Pétion, who, according to Dubois, led the coup against Dessalines, he established one elite school, later called Lycée Pétion. His nominally liberal state, defined in the 1816 Constitution and centered in Port-au-Prince, featured a lower house, called the Chamber of Deputies, who were voted in but the Senate and president were autocratic, positions dominated by Pétion himself and his allies. The president was the only one able to propose a new law and was elected by the Senate,  Like Christophe, his entry into political power began as a military general so autocratic governance practices defined his "republic" where he was life-long president. He also suggested the indemnity to France itself, hoping for recognition! Moreover, what drove the separation between a northern and southern Haiti began with Pétion and his allies proposing a constitution after the assassination of Dessalines that would have granted Christophe the presidential position but taken all the power out of it by empowering the Senate, leaving the presidential position as mostly symbolic. Naturally, Christophe did not like this, and took over the northern half of Haiti while Pétion and his supporters retained control of what were the South and West of the former colony of Saint-Domingue. 

The one good thing about Pétion, however, is the "republicanization of the soil" which occurred through land redistribution and land payments for soldiers. Indeed, some have alluded to this process as the first Latin American land reform, which was practical for the cash-strapped Haitian state in order to pay soldiers (and the military consumed a large part of the state budget of Haiti in these days, no surprise since the Haitian state was always characterized by large military influence and control, no doubt due to the Haitian state's origins within military rule and the failure to subordinate the military apparatus and power to civil institutions). Despite the lack of real republican government where all citizens had the right to vote or participate in the political system, Pétion's land reform indicates some complacency with the "counter-plantation" mentality of the ex-slaves and peasants. He also encouraged sharecropping, or métayange, and his tax system, referred to as a "territorial tax" in Dubois's book, was levied at ports of export, not based on the estates where coffee and other export products were grown. This, in turn, left more profits for the agricultural workers and small-scale producers. Thus, Pétion's rule was at least supportive (most likely against its will) in allowing the Kreyol-speaking, rural majority to engage in its own forms of organization and local autonomy through the quite egalitarian lakou system which determined questions of land inheritance and land distribution among extended families, as well as other forms of social organization rooted in cooperatives and religious associations. Of course, the predatory Haitian state sought to limit their control and access to mainstream, dominant sources of power (except through the military, which remained the main way to access national or regional political power, since generals often had great power and collected taxes in 19th century Haiti) as well as profitted from the agricultural products of rural Haiti while not providing basic services (healthcare, education, suffrage, etc.). Another positive contribution of this president was his support for Bolivar and the liberators of Venezuela and  Colombia, whose leaders received Haitian military aid and supplies to defeat Spain. 
Jean-Pierre Boyer, who inherited Pétion's political system in 1818, would reunite Haiti under his authority and secure French recognition of Haiti by accepting a massive indemnity (and gigantic loans to pay off that debt). Boyer, like his predecessor, ruled in an authoritarian manner, carried out human rights violations, censored and cracked down on critics of his regime (such as Félix Darfour), blocked the election of opposition members in the bicameral legislature, and attempted to recreate an export-oriented, plantation-styled estate system through the Code Rural, which gave landowners extensive power over laborers, outlawed agricultural cooperatives, limited the movement of rural residents (like the Code Henry, or the laws of Dessalines and Toussaint before him), created a rural police to enforce this,  and enacted corvée labor to force rural residents to work on road repairs without pay. Boyer, in addition to subjecting the Haitian state to great debt with France (and the long legacy of debt and poverty that many postcolonial nations would suffer in the 20th century) and attempting to confine the rural Haitian majority to plantations (though it was a huge failure, since rural farmers and workers continued to control, for the most part, cultivation, and focused on growing subsistence crops and coffee for export (often through land they had come to acquire on their own or through lease),  Boyer's state relied on keeping the Haitian people uneducated, according to French abolitionist Victor Schoelcher, who saw the Haitian peasant as little better off than Caribbean slaves (a perspective Dubois is careful to criticize). Indeed, Boyer's Haiti only had 10 schools, and upon unification of Haiti with Christophe's former kingdom, the schools established there were destroyed. So, the majority of the Haitian population were blocked, for the most part, access to schools, hospitals, and the vote, which enabled Boyer to keep his grasp on power for over two decades, in Haiti as well as the Spanish-speaking East, which would not sever ties with Haiti until 1844. As Dubois describes, Boyer's Haiti produced two classes: urban residents governed by national laws and rural dwellers subject to a different, highly restrictive set of rules.

Boyer's Haiti also enabled the forms of economic imperialism that would weaken Haiti (and many other postcolonial "Third World" states), such as relinquishing further and further control of the foreign trade to merchants from Europe and other parts of the world (Germany, later on, Syria, and others). The Haitian state, which relied on taxes on imports which caused the rural peasants to pay more for these imported goods, also levied a tax on the coffee produced in the interior and sold to merchants in the port towns. Haitian coffee, a high quality export, was favorable to Haitian peasants and could be grown on small plots, and, indeed, by the 1820s, Dubois states that nearly 1/3 of all coffee consumed in the US was from Haiti. However, foreign merchants, who often married local women so as to gain access to property-owning status in Haiti, were able to eventually replace local Haitian merchants and control trade through their trans-Atlantic contacts. This is a dangerous trend because such a large portion of the Haitian government's revenues derived from custom houses, rising to 92% in 1842 from 73% in 1810. Basically, Boyer helped initiate and further establish Haitian economic dependence and allowed foreign merchants to gain control of the foreign trade, which was also increasingly one of the main sources of government revenue. His militaristic rule, from 1818-1843, exclusionary and undemocratic, undeniably helped permanently place Haiti into a position it has not yet escaped from, debt-ridden, subject to political and economic imperialism from the US and Europe, and an inefficient, oppressive state. Indeed, the often seen warships from Germany, France, the US, and other states in Haitian waters, threatening to invade over allegedly unpaid debts to foreign merchants would reveal the weakness of the Haitian government to respond to its economic woes and the degree to which foreigners controlled the trade and could dictate the course of the state.

Unlike Papa Doc, however, Boyer never faced accusations of practicing Vodou, and his 1835 penal code included prohibitions on Vodou, witchcraft, zombification, and other African-derived and influenced practices. And, as Dubois himself recognizes, Boyer never had the direct, rule of terror over all of Haiti that Papa Doc abused, since the Haiti of the 19th century was defined more by regionalism less than a centralized state in Port-au-Prince. But nevertheless, Boyer's long rule of Haiti and the island of Hispaniola consisted of abuses of power, patterns of economic dependence, and a militarized state that would only grow exponentially by the mid-20th century when Papa Doc's dictatorship and rule based on fear ensnared all of the Haitian population. Surprisingly, the relatively peaceful revolution of 1843, which unseated Boyer, was mostly non-violent, and revealed the degree to which radical ideologies (such as socialism) were known to some Haitan elites, and, of course with the Piquets, led by Acaau, who were referred to by Maxime Reybaud as black communists (Dubois says they demanded reduced work with increased salaries, lower costs on imported goods and more money for their crops, as well as a national education system). So, the Haitian peasants were not an apolitical mass lacking consciousness and disconnected from the obvious deficiencies of the government which largely excluded them.

In summation, Dubois's book does a decent job explaining certain trends in Haitian history and their origins, which often date back to the colonial period and early national periods. Indeed, we can clearly see some of the future roads Haiti would walk in Boyer's agreement to the massive indemnity to France and the creation of two separate and unequal Haitis: one of elites based in the military or descendants of colonial elites and the majority group, mostly Kreyol-speakers and often denied access to the very sources of power which sought to prey off their exclusion. Clearly, Michel-Rolph Trouillot's work on the origins of Duvalierism and other studies of Haitian social history and political conflict have contributed to Dubois's analysis, which is, for the most part, more accurate and fair than any rendering one would get in the mainstream media or news coverage of Haiti during and after the earthquake. If we only just supported a "counter-plantation" system there and at home, while recognizing the necessity for the Haitian state to develop its own accountability and democratic institutions, then perhaps Haiti could thrive once again.