This article was first published in the April 2006 issue of Diplo MagazineHaiti is a country that rarely figures in the Western media, and when it does the coverage is overwhelmingly negative: a steady drip-feed of coups, civil unrest, political assassination and brutal violence. The first months of this year have been no exception to this dismal rule. The general election on 7 February was rocked by accusations of fraud, plunging the country into a fresh crisis, and quite possibly dashing hopes that the country’s long-running strife would be consigned to the past.
The poorest country in the Western hemisphere, Haiti has struggled throughout its history with appalling leadership on a vast scale. The site of the world’s first successful slave revolt, in 1804 Haiti became only the second independent nation in the Americas. Sadly this auspicious beginning proved illusory. Over the decades, the country’s intrinsic problems of poverty, lack of development, poor nutrition and education, not to mention its strategic importance to the burgeoning superpower to the north, have left it the most impoverished nation in the hemisphere. The statistics are bleak: life expectancy for men is 48, one child in ten fails to reach his or her fifth birthday, and over 85% of the population subsist on less than a dollar per day.
Haiti’s recent history is bleak. After the overthrow of the notorious Duvalier dictatorship in 1989, a quasi-democracy was born, and in 1991 the country held its first election. Yet coups and attempted insurrections resulted in constant upheaval, and finally, the fig-leaf of legitimacy was torn aside in 2004, as US Special Forces stormed the country to remove President Jean-Bertrand Aristide, ostensibly to prevent further unrest. While Aristide was undoubtedly corrupt, there was a sinister motive behind the American intervention. The Haitian government had committed the cardinal sin of seeking to address the country’s crippling poverty, and in doing so had made economic decisions that threatened the rude health of the companies that had set up shop in Port-au-Prince during the nineties. As Guatemala in 1954, and Chile in 1973, had already found out, a sovereign nation cannot snub Washington and think they will escape without a bruised nose.
Since 2004 – the bicentennial year – Haiti has been under the interim control of Boniface Alexandre, who has gingerly steered the country toward this year’s election. During that time, despite the further decline of the economy and mass emigration that sees the few educated nationals leave as soon as possible, there has been one source of hope: the election itself, seen optimistically as a turning point. Some 33 candidates ran, and despite an increase in violence and kidnapping, the hopeful mood prevailed. Yet barely had the polling stations closed before the results were in doubt. Burned ballot papers were discovered at a city dump, and 150,000 votes were invalidated due to tally sheets being incorrectly filled out by poll workers. Frontrunner and former president Rene Preval, who saw his initial share of 61% drop to 48.7%, claimed that he was denied an outright victory due to ‘massive fraud and gross errors’. His supporters, who include the country’s main street gangs, organised protests that swiftly turned violent.
A last-minute intervention by the Brazilian-mandated UN peacekeepers and the Organisation of American States led to a deal which exploited a loophole in Haitian law, allowing some 85,000 blank votes to be disregarded (they had previously been counted as a separate category). This tipped Mr Preval’s share of the vote up to 51%, edging him just over the crucial 50% mark and thus avoiding a recall election. Despite this, the electoral debacle doesn’t bode well for the future health of Haiti’s democracy. The election official, Jacques Bernard, has been forced to flee the country in fear of his life after his farmhouse was burned down. The general picture is of a country on the edge of social unrest, hardly the brave new world that the election was supposed to herald.
And even if the result is confirmed, will the president-elect be allowed to keep his campaign promises? The United States made it abundantly clear during the campaign that they were not in favour of Mr Preval. As far as Washington is concerned, in a polarised world, the Haiti result indicates that it has elected to follow the centre-left pattern of government that has taken hold over the last five years throughout the Americas. Furthermore, Preval was once the protégé of the exiled Aristide, although the two no longer see eye to eye. With these things in consideration, it is important that recognition from the US, as well as other world organisations, is swift. US State Department spokesperson Sean McCormack sounded a hopeful note, saying that his country ‘should unconditionally support a government that wins a democratic election’.
As the only Haitian-elected leader to complete his term of office (from 1995-2000) without either being ousted, assassinated or seeking to extend his rule by extrajudicial means, Mr Preval commands a respect unique in his country. The name of his party, Lespwa, the Creole word for ‘hope’, is fitting. If he can bring stability and a period of legitimate rule, then perhaps the corner towards national unity and reconstruction could be turned. With luck, between now and his 29 March inauguration, a period of calm will prevail. Preval’s task is colossal, but one with immense rewards: the steering of this blighted country, now in its third century as an independent nation, towards a better future.