Like what you've read?

On Line Opinion is the only Australian site where you get all sides of the story. We don't
charge, but we need your support. Here�s how you can help.

  • Advertise

    We have a monthly audience of 70,000 and advertising packages from $200 a month.

  • Volunteer

    We always need commissioning editors and sub-editors.

  • Contribute

    Got something to say? Submit an essay.


 The National Forum   Donate   Your Account   On Line Opinion   Forum   Blogs   Polling   About   
On Line Opinion logo ON LINE OPINION - Australia's e-journal of social and political debate

Subscribe!
Subscribe





On Line Opinion is a not-for-profit publication and relies on the generosity of its sponsors, editors and contributors. If you would like to help, contact us.
___________

Syndicate
RSS/XML


RSS 2.0

The forgotten story of Haiti

By Bronwyn Winter - posted Wednesday, 3 February 2010


Christophe declared himself king in 1811 and had a massive Citadelle built, perched on top of the highest hill above the Cap. Some 20,000 newly-subjugated slaves died in its construction. Haiti did not become reunited until 1820, after a mutiny by Christophe’s army and the suicide of Christophe himself.

So started the postcolonial history of Haiti, in which an alarming number of regimes have been overthrown by coup d’état, assassination, or both, as the country has continued to battle political instability, debt and poverty.

The civil war of Haiti’s early years left an indelible mark. Aimé Césaire even wrote a play about it, The Tragedy of King Christophe, in which the full complexity of post-coloniality is displayed in all its glory and all its horror. Césaire’s play may have been historical, but his message was contemporary. See, he was telling us, see what colonialism does to people.

Advertisement

As for the US occupation of Haiti, it began not in January 2010 but a roughly century earlier. The US colonial project there began circa 1890, as the US started taking an interest in the Caribbean in the lead up to what would become the Spanish-American war of 1898, but formal occupation did not start until 1915. This occupation was enabled by a treaty signed between the Haitian and US governments. US marines took over the country at that time for pretty much exactly the same professed reason as now: humanitarian intervention. The US also engineered the re-establishment of the unpopular mulâtre elite.

But then, practically every Haitian leader is unpopular. Aristide was very far from the popularly elected president. He may have been better than some, but very few, if any, Haitian presidents have ever been truly the people’s choice, and most have been extremely corrupt. I was in Haiti in 2000, between the two rounds of the presidential election of that time; it was a period characterised by riots. This is not a “media exaggeration”. I was there, I waited hours in a blocked airport in Cap Haitien, having driven round overturned burning cars to get there. Haitians were angry - but few of them ended up actually voting. This is not unusual. Participation in some elections has reportedly been as low as 10 per cent.

I also spent a great deal of time with feminist NGOs in 2000 (and have been distressed to learn of the death in the earthquake of some well-known feminists with whom I spoke at that time) and every single one of them, including an NGO to support women’s political participation, spoke scathingly of Fanmi Lavalas, the party founded by Aristide. Haiti’s elite is not of the people. Haiti’s elite is of the elite. That is, even more so than elsewhere.

The ongoing structural and systemic problems of Haiti are not because Haitians are intrinsically violent or stupid or incapable of self-rule. When one has been infantilised for so long, maintained for so long in a relationship of dependency, growing up is a colossal challenge. Haiti learned its colonial lessons far, far too well. Those lessons have been carried forward through the last century and into this one, in a sort of neo-colonial institutionalisation of Haitian lives and Haitian minds. Nothing that has happened since the earthquake is really that new.

The only thing that gives me hope for Haiti is the same thing that gave the world’s colonised hope two centuries ago: the Haitian people, and in particular, Haitian women (although they usually only rate a mention when it is a question of children’s welfare: women rarely matter very much in and for themselves). Before the earthquake, the country was held together by Haitian NGOs and other more informal networks, mostly of women. The informal, small-business, subsistence economy is held together largely by women. Its social fabric, the care of its children, its ill, is held together largely by women. This is not, however, unusual anywhere in the world, even in the west.

It troubles me that even critical analysis of the post-earthquake situation in Haiti and of the troubling yet familiar kowtowing of the international community to US muscle, continues to infantilise Haitian people as somehow passive. It is not because they need help that they are helpless. It is not because they need independence from the US idea of rescue that they need rescuing by someone else. Haitians are strong, they are resilient. They have had to be, for many centuries. In the great sadness that I feel for Haiti now, that I feel for the deaths of so many, including those wonderful feminists I met, I am reassured by the knowledge that others will take their place.

Advertisement

And will continue to resist.

  1. Pages:
  2. 1
  3. Page 2
  4. All


Discuss in our Forums

See what other readers are saying about this article!

Click here to read & post comments.

3 posts so far.

Share this:
reddit this reddit thisbookmark with del.icio.us Del.icio.usdigg thisseed newsvineSeed NewsvineStumbleUpon StumbleUponsubmit to propellerkwoff it

About the Author

Associate Professor Bronwyn Winter is a senior lecturer at the University of Sydney, School of Languages and Cultures, Department of French Studies. She is also Director of the Faculty of Arts International and Comparative Literary Studies program.

Other articles by this Author

All articles by Bronwyn Winter

Creative Commons LicenseThis work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

Photo of Bronwyn Winter
Article Tools
Comment 3 comments
Print Printable version
Subscribe Subscribe
Email Email a friend
Advertisement

About Us Search Discuss Feedback Legals Privacy