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14351: Burnham posts Re: 14348: Du Tuyau " What is the truth", and David Nicholls (fwd)



From: thor burnham <thorald_mb@hotmail.com>

>From Thor Burnham in Port-au-Prince

Dear Du Tuyau:
   Truth can be elusive, obviously. Who do we believe, in fact? Do we
believe Pina and Dorce and their firm and unwavering endorsement of Titid
and the Lavalas Revolution? Is it a revolution? Do we side with Simidor or
members of the convergence? Do we see reason and logic in the statements
from the sectors of civil society and their denouncements of rule by
chimere? Did the Ti-Goave student demonstration get hi-jacked by convergence
thugs? Or, is the NCHR correct in its assessment of the situation,
publishing their opinion in Le Nounelliste? Is "Lord" Chamberlain (sorry
Greg, couldn't resist)correct when he chides Pina for doing exactly what he
accuses everyone else of? Is Stotsky out to lunch? Do we heed the calls of
the middle-classes and the elites? Are the popular classes overwhelmingly
behind Aristide? Are the elites manipulating the situation? Is it the evil
intervention of the U.S. embassy and the CIA and their partisans in the IRI?
Is it the international system as presently constructed, which may leave
little or no room for small states to operate? Is Lavalas a bunch of
thieves, or are they the victims of an international small state conspiracy?
Are the dice loaded? Is the fix in?
   Basically, it's a tough call. Or maybe it's not. I only have my own
experiences, which are not the same as others. Personally, I have seen
bodies.(Delmas 75) I personally know people that have been shot and
murdered. (Delmas 33 and 95 and Laville). My good friend's neighbour was
arrested on Christmas eve by SWAT. I've heard nothing reported of the
arrest. But I know it happened. Le Nouvelliste has regularly reported the
deaths and shootings of people and reports of bodies left in the street.
Does it necessarily mean Lavalas is responsible for all of it? Obviously
not.
   Basically, it's incumbent on everyone to get as much evidence and
information as they can. Then they must make a decision based on that
information. But this will, of course, be influenced by one's politics,
biases and world view, or even the battle one thinks one is fighting
relative to the rest of the world. All we can do is try to critically assess
the situation and judge based on that.

So let me confuse things.

   During some down time last week I took pleasure in beginning a second
reading of David Nicholls book “From Dessalines to Duvalier: Race, Colour
and National Independence in Haiti”, the 1996 Revised edition. What is
particularly interesting in the 1996 edition is Nicholls new preface.  It
offers an overview of the years leading up to the ouster of Jean Claude
Duvalier, the growth of civil society groups and, importantly, a quick
assessment of the center of everyone’s attention, J.B. Aristide.
     Greg Chamberlain has mentioned that Nicholls “was very lucid about
Aristide”; I thought it would be interesting to see what Nicholls actually
said.  Please note that this is what Nicholls said, NOT what Thor Burnham
thinks, or endorses. It is, however, an informed opinion by a leading
scholar of Haiti and its politics. (he has, unfortunately, since passed on)
So I spent a considerable amount of time typing this out. I hope some people
find it useful. I do recommend, however, that you get a hold of the book and
read it for yourself. I have added nothing to the text below, but I alone am
responsible for the selections.

Best,
Thor Burnham


I start quoting at page xxviii, the last paragraph. He is talking about the
December 1990 elections. And I warn you that Nicholls didn’t pull his
punches, he spreads it around pretty evenly.

	“With the prospect of over 1000 international observers, considerable
pressure from the United States embassy, and an army leadership prepared at
last to allow free elections to take place, prospects looked good for a
relatively fair election.  The candidates began preparations for the
contest.  The electoral commission disallowed the candidature of Manigat and
Duvalierist Lafontant; other candidates included businessman Louis Déjoie,
populist Sylvio Claude, and United States-backed Marc Bazin. KONAKOM, a
loose federation of radical political movements and community-based groups,
proposed backing Victor Benoit as presidential candidate, but he lacked
popular support.  In mid-October, partly at the instigation of Evans Paul,
KONAKOM together with the Front National pour Changement et Democratie
(FNCD) switched its allegiance to Aristide who announced his candidature
only days before the close of registration.  This transformed the situation
overnight; the poor in the cities and peasants from the countryside poured
into registration centers by the hundreds of thousands. A Canadian observer
in the region of Jacmel told me at the time of the dramatic change that had
occurred in his area.
    Aristide had enormous popularity among the poor people of Haiti, but he
was no democrat, denouncing the system of representative government as
fraudulent, resulting in a government which acts in the interests of the
rich and relatively well off.  He condemned the capitalist economy of Haiti,
the selfishness of the elite and the role of the United States.  In the
course of the presidential campaign, however, he modified his position on
these issues and tried to reassure the elites of the country and the United
State embassy.  He indeed secured some support from the business class due
to his unremitting opposition to Duvalierism.

II
Aristide

Père Jean-Bertrand Aristide took office in February 1991, after a stunning
victory in the elections of the previous December, in which he received over
two-thirds of the votes cast (though it should be remembered that probably
less than half those eligible bothered to register and vote).  His nearest
rival, Marc Bazin, obtained a mere 15 percent.  An attempted coup in January
1991—led by Roger Lafontant, a leading Duvalierist—was foiled.  The
complicity of the Archbishop of Port-au-Prince, Mgr François Wolff Ligondé,
led to popular attacks on church property, and the Papal Nuncio was
reportedly chased into the street in his underwear.  Apart from these
incidents, Aristide (popularly known as ‘Titid’) moved peacefully into the
presidential palace in February 1991 with enthusiastic backing from the
masses and with varying degrees of acquiescence on the part of political
elites (with the obvious exception of the largely discredited Duvalierists).
  The masses clearly expected radical changes.  Political elites were
willing in general to give him a chance.  What went wrong? How, riding on
such a wave of goodwill, did he come tumbling down so soon?
    Aristide, born in 1953 at Port-Salut in the south-west of the country,
came from a modest background. His father died soon after he was born and he
was brought up by his grandfather, a small landowner and justice of the
peace.  He was educated at a school in the capital run by the Salesians and
entered their seminary at Cap Haïten in 1966.  He finished seminary at the
age of 21 and after a year in the Dominican Republic as a novice in the
community, returned to Haiti where he studied philosophy and psychology at
the state university.  He studied for a time in Israel and was ordained
priest in 1982.  After a further period abroad he returned to Haiti in 1985,
where he worked with the Salesians teaching and working in the parish of
Jean Bosco in a poor district of the capital.  His sermons, explicitly
condemning the military regime in the strongest language, drew huge crowds.
Attempts by his superiors to send him abroad were resisted by his
supporters.  Aristide was eventually expelled from the Salesian order.  He
founded and ran an orphanage for street children, but maintained a militant
opposition to the regime.  His decision to stand for president was a
surprise to most people in Haiti.

The 1991 Coup

Aristide’s reforms in the armed services and his steps to create a separate
police force and a system of regional government, following the provisions
of the new constitution, led to unease in the army, from the officers to the
‘ti soldats’ (lower ranks).  After less than eight months in office Aristide
was overthrown by a military coup.  The small army at that time numbering
about 7000 men, could contemplate a coup, however, only if it had
endorsement from important sectors of the population.
    Most of the business community was uneasy from the start, though a few
supported him, believing that only he could secure political stability and
deal effectively with the former tonton macoute.  In the election campaign
he had in fact received financial backing from the wealthy Palestinian
businessman, Antoine Izméry, and probably from others in the commercial
sector.  The economic policy pursued by his government was conciliatory
towards business and found favour with the World Bank.  Though he appealed
for co-operation to the ‘patriotic’ sector of the business community, some
perceived a menacing tone in his discourse.  Their growing hostility to the
priest-president and their support for the coup, however, was due less to
what he did than to what he was—what he symbolized.  Aristide’s presence in
the presidential palace reflected and reinforced a new confidence among the
poor people of Haiti.  Servants refused to do what they were told, and were
even heard to say that their master’s luxurious house and cars would soon be
theirs.  The rich became worried that their privileged position was being
threatened.  The prospect of a social revolution appeared on the horizon.
     Despite outspoken anti-American sentiments expressed by Aristide before
the election, his policy was again accommodating and his rhetoric was
moderated.  But elements in the U.S. government, uneasy with his populist
stance and his willingness to ignore the niceties of the constitution, gave
tacit support to the military coup.  His candid criticism of the Balaguer
regime in the neighbouring Dominican Republic for its policy towards Haitian
migrants created another powerful enemy.
    A further implacable opponent of the Aristide government was the church
hierarchy.  Vatican policy was hostile to clergy playing an active role in
the politics (apart, that is from the Pope himself and his secretary of
state with their team of nuncios).  They feared Aristide’s populist style
and his influence with the ti légliz groups. Most of the bishops backed or
acquiesced in the coup of 30 September 1991 and the Vatican was, shamefully,
the only government in the world to recognize the military junta that
succeeded to power.

The legislature and the black middle class

The final nail in Titid’s coffin was the hostility of the legislature, and
its apparent willingness to supply the coup leaders with a shroud of
constitutionality.  On taking office, Aristide did not control the
legislature. Although one principal political grouping, the FNCD, had backed
him in the election and achieved a significant representation in the two
chambers, Aristide never really saw eye-to-eye with the parliamentarians.
The constitution, as we have noted, gives substantial powers to the
legislature to restrict the president’s activities.
    In choosing his cabinet, Aristide largely ignored the claims of elected
politicians, even those who had supported him, choosing people he thought he
could trust, including several mulattoes from the bourgeoisie.  The
government contained ex-priests or seminarists—like Ernst Verdieu (Social
Affairs) and Renaud Bernardin (planning)—or people who had previously been
involved with non-government aid agencies, like Marie-Michèle Rey (finance)
and Claudette Werleigh.  It was called a ‘government of pals’, with no
serious attempt to represent powerful interests.  Aristide thus made little
effort to secure effective support from the legislature, encouraging rather
the growth of a popular, extra-parliamentary movement, called Lavalas after
the slogan he adopted for his election campaign (a word popularly used for
the deluge of water and mud which descends into the capital after a storm,
carrying all before it).  The predominantly black politicians retaliated by
refusing to endorse some of his diplomatic nominations and delaying or
modifying his policy proposals.  As early as May, Communist Party leader
René Théodore denounced the government as ‘autocratic’.  This was compounded
when former provisional president Ertha Pascal-Trouillot, was arrested on
charges of corruption and complicity in the January 1991 coup; she was,
however, soon released due partly to pressure from Venezuela and the United
States.
     Aristide’s relations with the legislature reached their nadir in August
1991 with the attempt by mostly left-wing deputies to remove the prime
minister, René Préval. A mob, composed of a thousand Aristide supporters,
manhandled one of the opposition legislators and threatened others with
being burned alive.  They also set fire to the CATH(trade union)
headquarters, ransacking the offices of the FNCD and of the KID(Democratic
Unity Confederation). The leader of both CATH and KID, Mayor of
Port-au-Prince, Evans Paul, denounced ‘banditry, threats and violence’ on
the part of government supporters.  Many deputies were afraid to sleep in
their own homes.
    Aristide, far from discouraging these disturbances, actually commended
the mob who intimidated judges in the trial of Roger Lafontant (organiser of
the Duvalierists’ attempted coup). All this reinforced the hostility towards
the president on the part of important sectors.  With such scant respect for
law and for constitutional procedures on Titid’s part, some even feared the
shades of a neo-Duvalierism.  There was an increasing personalization of
power but this has been the normal practice in Haiti since independence.  A
Haitian architect who was supervising some work in the presidential palace
told me how the department of public works was totally bypassed and he dealt
only with Aristide’s formidable personal assistant Madame Gladys Lauture.
    Then the government began sacking thousands of civil servants. This was
partly in response to recommendations from international agencies like the
World Bank that government expenditure should be cut.  Certain departments
were manifestly overstaffed, and also numerous employees were unqualified
political appointees of the Duvalier regime or of successive military
juntas.  Nevertheless, sacking went beyond this and many officials were
fired because of personal vendettas.  The black middle classes, who had been
among François Duvalier’s principal supporters in 1957, but most of whom had
become disillusioned with Baby Doc, were unnecessarily alienated from the
new government by such moves as these.”

Move to page xxxiii

     “Suspicion of and hostility towards the military has been
characteristic of the mulatto elite since the mid-nineteenth century.  They
sensed that the army posed the principal challenge to their hegemony.  In
the years prior to the first United States occupation their worst fears were
realized, when one black general succeeded another as president, in quick
succession and disorder threatened.  The elites generally welcomed the
invasion and supported United States efforts to create a small, professional
and ‘depoliticised’ army, which would concentrate on keeping the masses in
order at the behest of a mullato-dominated government.  In the post-Duvalier
years, the army leaders have excelled themselves in corruption and in
presiding over a viciously oppressive government.  There have been
widespread demands for a reduction in the size and power of the military. On
his return to the country in 1994 Aristide has taken steps to this end.  Six
thousand soldiers have been sacked, leaving an army of about 1500, with no
officer above the rank of major.  The army headquarters have been turned
into the offices of the new Ministry of Women’s Affairs.  Duvalierists have,
however, interpreted these moves as part of his supposed vendetta against
the black middle class.”

Move to page xxxiv

    “When the ‘invasion’ eventually took place it was with the grudging
acceptance of the Haitian military, who still thought that they would be
able to manipulate the situation in such a way as to retain their positions.
  This they failed to do and soon the three leading members of the junta,
Cèdras, François and Biamby, left the country.  Aristide, however, became
something of a prisoner in the palace.  His freedom to act was restricted by
the 1987 constitution.  It is widely believed that opposition from the
United States government prevented him choosing René Preval or Claudette
Werleigh as prime minister.  The principal ministries are mostly in the
hands of mulattoes from the elite.  Many of the cabinet are indeed of
radical political views and will no doubt endeavour to pursue moderately
reforming policies and deal with some of the more scandalous aspects of an
oppressive system.  Aristide has been unable to act independently except on
public appointments, and is being blamed by his more impatient followers for
not moving faster.  Attempts by the ‘Lavalas’ mob to put pressure on the
legislature, as they did in 1991, would have been thwarted by United Statees
troops, later replaced by a UN force.”

end of quotes

Nicholls, David. From Dessalines to Duvalier: Race, Colour and National
Independence in Haiti. Rutgers University Press, New Jersey. 1996.




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