Joe Gaetjens, Football, and Haiti

Read about  Joe Gaetjens in this short but informative piece from Africa's a Country. It is always important and informative to be reminded of the role sports and other forms of popular culture in Haitian history, society, and politics. Also, my uncle was a footballer back in the day, so it's very reminiscent of some personal connections.

Haiti in the Early 1970s

Haiti one year after Papa Doc's Death (early 1970s) in a 60 Minutes Special. Worth watching for the not quite accurate US narrator's summary of Haitian history and the use of 'transformation industries' as a phrase to describe sweatshops. Naturally, it's hardly an authoritative source, but another example of the many ways the US media approaches the subject of Haiti through exoticizing, primitive lens. It's frightening how so many of the same economic policies introduced under Baby Doc are being attempted again by the current Haitian government, although one can be glad that there is no longer a business in selling Haitian plasma and cadavers anymore (good riddance, Luckner Cambronne).

The Comedians

"...it's astonishing how much money can be made out of the poorest of the poor with a little ingenuity." 

I'll admit that when I first heard of The Comedians I expected some stereotypical trite with a racial bias. Of course, Graham Greene is an excellent writer and well-known figure of English literature, but, as of now, I have only read The Comedians. The beginning of the novel was a little rough, too, since it is set on a Dutch ship leaving the US for Port-au-Prince and it moves at a slow pace. Quickly, however, Greene's novel picks up and unites the various passengers on  the ship in the midst of Papa Doc's terror in 1960s Haiti. Sure, some of Greene's allusions to Vodou and Haitian history are stereotypical and perhaps ill-informed (he makes Henri Christophe out to be some sort of extreme tyrant, applicable to Papa Doc), but through the lens of the protagonist, Brown, Greene has a more nuanced perspective on 1960s Haiti.

During most of the novel's events, Papa Doc's government had lost most ties to the US (the Kennedy administration recalled their ambassador, Haiti and the Dominican Republic were not on cordial terms, and Papa Doc was executing Barbot and flushing out rebels in the mountains and along the border) and is clearly extending 'Duvalierism' and state terror into as many aspects of public life as possible. Corruption is endemic, violence the norm, and regular blackouts define urban life. Greene's Port-au-Prince is one where Baron Samedi, Papa Doc, with the help of Tonton Macoutes, terrorize the population, threaten and steal, kill and maim, while the vast hordes of peasants, beggars, urban poor, etc. struggle to survive. Yet, despite the deep disgust and disdain Greene clearly bears, Brown articulates a critique of US imperialism that allows Papadocracy to thrive: Haiti is a bulwark against Communism. During the height of Cold War politics in the post-Cuban Revolution Caribbean, US support for Papa Doc was inevitable, despite the obvious horrors he subjected his population to. Indeed, the Communist Dr. Magiot also notes the money to be made by US Congressmen and businesses with corrupt Haitian officials, a reality unfortunately quite real in Papa Doc's Haiti.

Despite a perhaps superficial resemblance to Naipaul's truly pessimistic (and racist) A Bend in the River, one can clearly surmise that Greene is aiming for a more nuanced view of a 'third world hotspot' peopled by descendants of Africa. Even if there are at times racist statements by Brown (who also states Haitian women to be the most beautiful of the world) and a certain level of condescension and revulsion (such as when Brown discovers Marcel, a black Haitian, was his mother's lover during her years in Port-au-Prince running the hotel, Trianon, clearly based on Hotel Oloffson), Greene's characters are generally positive and don't assume a perpetual rule of terror and dictatorship. Instead of Afropessimism, one encounters a 'balanced' narrative with a bleak, but hopeful conclusion (Dr. Magiot urges Brown, in spite of losing everything he had in Haiti, the closest thing he has had to a 'home' in his life, to not lose 'faith').

Regardless of the title hinting at the various 'roles' we play in all human societies, how we can all be comedians, this is a novel about two characters shedding all the artificial 'clothing' they have constructed in their lives and utterly 'being' themselves at the heart of it, 'confessing' and accepting life but not living through it as passive observers, not assuming roles and using deceit, but making a stand for something (even if in the case of Brown, the ultimate motives were not initially pure). Thus, in that regard, this is a powerful novel on the human condition, which, obviously, surpasses the insignificant and impoverished island of Haiti. Any attempt at resistance is admirable, perhaps even the foolhardy attempt at a Cuban-styled coup by Philipot and Joseph, led by a man with absolutely no military leadership credentials, or even the naive but well-meaning American couple (who provide some fodder for a wicked sense of humor, since they actually believe that a vegetarian centre could be established in the heart of Port-au-Prince, and seem shocked that 'law and order' in the conventional sense do not operate in Papa Doc's Haiti) who genuinely have 'faith' in the future of humanity, in a world where racial equality, erasure of poverty, and an end to animal cruelty were all possible. In addition, a dark sense of humor abounds in other instances, such as Brown becoming an undertaker in Santo Domingo with Fernandez, a role intimately tied to death and Baron Samedi, the very same lwa associated with watching over the dead (also the lwa Papa Doc was associated with, perhaps suggesting the dual connotations of the lwa as a force for good in contrast with Papa Doc's evil).

In summation, this novel about actors dropping their stage roles, individuals retaining faith, has a powerful message for all, beyond the 'benighted' destitute nations of the world as well as the wealthy. Even the dishonest Jones ultimately became a hero, proving himself similar to Mr. Smith for sharing a similar nature and belief in life. Besides the intriguing plot, the prose is direct and enthralling, giving the reader clear images of 1960s Port-au-Prince, the decline of the Trianon, and the familiar sight of the Tonton Macoute in dark sunglasses. The meta aspects of the novel, as a sort of play within a novel, is a fascinating concept, too. Each character has a role they play in the novel, and another one amongst themselves in their own world, in their relationships with each other, in the fantasies they construct, including the Tontons Macoutes, who don sunglasses to hide their own emotions and fears, insecurities and humanity.

Turbulent Haiti

An interesting look at how US media covered Haiti in 1962, a year of one of the political crises of the Duvalier dictatorship. Unfortunately, it seems to only be an excerpt, but it's fun to watch nonetheless. Lots of stereotypes of Haiti and vast generalizations are reported as fact (not to mention a lack of depth), but clearly the political crisis in Haiti (I assume the political crisis referred to here is the moment where Duvalier sought to extend his presidency (which he did successfully) and the near-war with Juan Bosch's government in the DR) was important in the minds of US politicians due to the Cuban Revolution and the fall of Trujillo's dictatorship the previous year. The alluded to violation of the security of the Dominican embassy was one of the factors that nearly brought the Dominican Republic to war with Haiti, as well as JFK's own disdain for Papa Doc. While watching this, go ahead and check out these news reels about Duvalier in 1971 and 1972.

Merengue, Kompa, and Dictatorships in Hispaniola

Trujillo and Francois Duvalier (Papa Doc) in a meeting. Two dictators, two countries, same island. Papa Doc came to power while the aging Trujillo was beginning to lose it, but the relations between the two governments would be an interesting history project. And while both were similar autocrats, Papa Doc seems to have been more of a kleptocrat and created a more terrifying force to intimidate the masses while Trujillo supported industrialization. Moreover, both promoted related genres of dance music, Trujillo nationalizing merengue while Papa Doc and his son promoted kompa, which was influenced by 1950s merengue. Looking at music alone during both of their horrid reigns would be an interesting project for how both used music to express a nationalistic identity that, naturally, could be manipulated and used to promote their power. Check out the links below:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFYCfk2NMc0
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVgR6mtebvA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fcCinJHPCL4
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nSGjLTlDxtM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=weFmRXJ3kOs
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8phy586SGaw
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QwNoVSVflec
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LC2nHA35Qys&index=19

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?