Showing posts with label Colonialism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Colonialism. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

[HoI] Getting to know the spirits: Haitian Vodou (Haiti Today 2/6)



WELCOME TO THE SECOND LESSON FOR HAITI TODAY, 

PART OF THE HISTORY OF IDEAS ACADEMY

You can find the outline for the course here and a brief history of Haiti here. Please post all comments, requests, and questions in the Reddit post rather than the blog. That way we can continue our discussion within the History of Ideas subreddit.

Getting to Know the Spirits
An Introduction to Haitian Vodou

       When slaves were brought over from West Africa they were not tabula rasa. Rather, they retained their religious beliefs, cultures, traditions, and memories from their own complex and highly developed societies. These experiences and bodies of knowledge informed the ways in which they understood being enslaved and the new cultures they encountered. In Haiti, this meant that while slave owners were required to baptize and instruct their slaves in Catholicism, slaves found ways to retain their own beliefs in spite of them being outlawed. Remember that at the time of the revolution 2/3 of the slaves in Haiti had been born in Africa so they had already grown up with their own cultural and religious beliefs. When they were introduced to Catholicism, they found creative ways to use the saints as a facade for their own spirits. For example, the snake spirit Danballah became associated with Saint Patrick because icons of Saint Patrick often include snake at his feet. This allowed them to pray openly to Danballah via the name and image of Saint Patrick. Over generations, however, this relationship became more than a facade. Today, Catholicism and West African religious traditions exist in Haiti both as parallel traditions and in a form that mixes the two. In other words, sometimes people really are praying to Saint Patrick the long dead Catholic Irish man. But other times people are specifically referring to Danballah as the ancient African creator spirit. And yet these concepts are not contradictory - Danballah is both an ancient African snake and Saint Patrick

       It is hard for many people in America and Europe to fully understand this because we're often raised with the idea that you have to pick just one religious worldview and that to do otherwise is insincere or even hypocritical. But much of the world does not see religion in this way. In many areas of Africa and Asia people hold overlapping religious views without it creating anxiety about cognitive dissonance. And if we really look hard at our own cultures we'll see that people in America do this too. A Christian might believe in both the Bible and a form of reincarnation and karma, without this jeopardizing their mental health or views of their own damnation. And if we look at this cross-culturally and historically we'll find that religions and cultures overlap, intersect, and influence one another constantly. These moments create traditions through a process we sometimes call syncretism, creolization, or hybridity. These terms come in and out of favor but the important thing is to recognize that Haitian Vodou is not unusual in this sense. In fact, many other colonial communities in the Caribbean and Central & South America created similar religious responses. Lukumi (Santeria), Candomblé, Obeah, Orisha, and Vodou are all cousin religions in that they were created through the process of slavery, colonialism, West African traditions, and Christianity intersecting. If you have studied any of these traditions you might notice similarities, though of course each religion is unique and a product of its own history and people. 

       The revolution in Haiti began with a Vodou ceremony and today religious system retains some of its revolutionary aspects, and has been a source of inspiration to guerilla fighters and political dissidents. Yet, it also encourages a harmonious relationship with society and nature, providing ideal examples for behavior that fit within rather than against legal and social systems. It provides an encompassing worldview that connects individual, society, environment, luck, health, and action. However, this system also retains a huge range of potentials that allows individuals to creatively respond to different situations in a way that works with their current conditions. Like many African traditions, two or more aspects that at first seem like internal contradictions are juxtaposed to suggest that together they create a third deeper truth, a mystical knowledge that touches upon the really-real. Therefore, while there are general ways to characterize the religious system of Vodou, it is also important to recognize its plasticity that allows practitioners to adjust it for changing socio-political conditions in Haiti and the experience of diaspora. My goal here is to give an overview of the religion as it is practiced in Haiti, while acknowledging that there are variations. There is no pope of Vodou or overarching governing body. Each religious house gains and retains status through recognition by other houses, but they are their own traditions and no house has control over another. My description of Vodou comes not just from scholarly research but from working with Vodou communities, studying the religion hands on, and going to ceremonies for over four years. Most of my information here is about how the religion is practiced in Southern Haiti, though I am happy to discuss some variations found in the North in comments. This blog post from a Vodou scholar is also useful for understanding the variation in the religion. 

       Vodouisants believe that spirits (lwa) and ancestors are active agents in the material human world, and this belief is a given - a post that holds up the reality of the system and which other cultural beliefs exist in relation to. These beings exist without a material body and on a spiritual plane, but this plane can be accessed through divination, dreams, ritual, possession, and geographical and temporal spaces of bleed through. Contact provides a way to mitigate relationships with these beings who otherwise could impact lives without individuals having the ability to negotiate their situation. These spirits and ancestors have individual personalities and preconceived notions about proper behaviors that can cause them to help or hinder people as they see fit. Engaging with these beings allows humans to gain their aid and take control over their own luck. However, this usually requires a pledge of either a direct exchange of offerings for services or a lifelong commitment to serve and honor. Failure to uphold a person’s end of the deal or to recognize when a spirit is making a demand can result in punishment that affects luck, health, personal relationships, and financial situations. Since it can be difficult to decipher exactly what a spirit wants and which spirit is affecting a person’s life, religious professionals are consulted to ensure that life is being led in harmony with these beings. These beings also become part of an extended spiritual family, and as such individuals love them and provide offerings because they enjoy making their spirits and ancestors happy. This bolsters the spirits and ancestors, because they need humans in order to be fed. Thus, humans and spirit beings exist in a symbiotic relationship.  

       The arrangements of social and familial obligations, relationships, and interactions move outwards from this central spiritual worldview. Vodou morality is not a black and white understanding of right and wrong, but rather a contextual response that above all works to maintain harmony in the community. The universe exists in harmony as a natural state, and any action that creates discord is a moral transgression. It would be a mistake to consider this the same way that Catholics view sin. Moral transgressions are not individual acts that permanently taint the soul and change the outcome of the afterlife. There is no defined concept of heaven in Haitian Vodou and reincarnation is not affected by the sins of the past life. Rather, these moral transgressions change the circumstances of the individual and community in the here and now but can be overcome and moved past. Also important is that the moral violation of harmony by one individual can affect the morality of the group and cause repercussions from spirits and ancestors that affect the community. This places a huge focus upon the collective and tends to downplay the individual. Yet, it would be wrong to characterize the Haitian worldview as solely a collective one. Individual action is an important part of disrupting, maintaining, and repairing balance. Also, religious leaders and elders of the community hold a special place in social hierarchies. Outside of the racial economic divide of elite mulattos and peasant blacks, the countryside divides the community according to age and status achieved.  Children are at the bottom and elders at the top since they are the closest to becoming future ancestors. This arrangement is similar to many African societies. As future ancestors, elders are the bearers of wisdom and deserve extreme respect for their position. Elders who are Vodou oungan asogwe or manbo asogwe (high priests and priestesses) and who have had children are the most respected, having gone through all rites of passage besides death. If properly honored now, they will also be more likely to respond positively after death and if they are not immediately reincarnated they will provide assistance and guidance as ancestral spirits. 

       Vodouisants often grow up in households where these spirits and ancestors are part of their extended families. Home altars dedicate a space to honoring and feeding them, dreams bring messages, and daily experiences reinforce their presence. A whiff of perfume when no one is nearby indicates that a spirit who likes that perfume is spiritually close. A song that suddenly comes to mind might be related to a spirit and a reminder of the message in the lyrics. These everyday moments and experiences introduce people to these lwa saint-spirits and they get to know their personalities, preferences, tendencies, and attitudes. Over time they often develop personal relationships with certain spirits. These spirits make frequent appearances in dreams and visions and are believed to provide assistance. For example, Ogou the warrior king may appear in dreams as a father figure, policeman, and protector. He might make his presence known during times of difficulty through the scent of the cigar he loves to smoke, reminding the person he is there for them. And at group ceremonies he might even possess a body and use that to speak directly to individuals, lay hands to heal, and perform important rituals. Spirit possession in the West is often seen as something scary. But in Haiti and many other places it is a welcome event. Spirits do not have corporeal bodies but they enjoy corporeal things such as drinking, eating, smoking, dancing, and talking. In certain contexts practitioners can give up their own bodies so that the spirits can temporarily use them. The person retains no memory of the event and no aspect of their personality or self-hood should show during the possession. The body is just a vehicle and the spirit is believed to push out the current driver and seat him or herself behind the wheel during possession. Group ceremonies are a chance for practitioners to come together as a community to honor spirits on their special day but also to gain direct contact with the divine. 

       Once these experiences build up a person may recognize that he or she is called to have a deeper relationship with the spirits. Each person has a spiritual court, meaning that particular spirits show interest in them and become intertwined in their lives. Everyone's spiritual court is different and people must learn to recognize their spirits so they can effectively work with them. Vodou is sometimes mischaracterized as a tradition similar to some other faiths where you select spirits most relevant to your issue at hand and attempt to work with them. While Ezili Freda, for example, is sometimes represented as the spirit of love and romance if you do not have a relationship with her you would not approach her for help in that arena. Rather, you work with the relationships you've already developed and the spirits most likely to be interested. To determine a spiritual court, a person can go to a oungan or manbo (priest or priestess) for a card reading. Many people then use this knowledge to create a home altar where they can strengthen these relationships and focus their attention. For individuals who are called further they may choose to have a head washing, which connects them permanently to their met tet (ruler of the head) who is the spirit most closely aligned with them. The next step would be to initiate into the religion into one of three stages: hounsi (congregation member), manbo or oungan (priestess or priest), and manbo asogwe or oungan asogwe (high priestess or high priest.) These levels of initiation (kanzo) are not decided by the individual but by the spirits and revealed through dreams, card readings, and other forms of communication. This is a permanent life-time commitment and each level requires different duties to spirit and community. 

       In Haitian Vodou, men and women can both attain equal status levels as manbo asogwe and houngan asogwe. This doesn't mean that there aren't issues with sexism and in the countryside the traditional arrangement was to have the eldest male hold the highest level of power for the family compound. Yet, changing economic situations have meant that women have better odds finding work than men - especially in the city. In the past forty years more and more female led spiritual houses have popped up. In the countryside religious houses were usually made up of actual family members. In cities, members may not be blood related but through initiation they become spiritual family members with the same obligations and responsibilities they have towards blood kin. The priests and priestesses become the fathers and mothers of this extended family and the religious community becomes a place where members can receive healing, shelter, food, counseling, a loan, and other assistance. The temple is often a space that between services is used for sleeping, cooking, and socializing. These spaces and communities are important places for disenfranchised people to gain status and help. Since homosexuality is religiously sanctioned, Vodou houses are often safe havens for gay men and women who otherwise can be persecuted in Haitian society. Poor people - especially single mothers - also often find Vodou to be an avenue to bettering their lives.

       Access to the spirits and the power of religious officials provides ways to use their faith to make what they believe are real world changes. However, these networks and the religious philosophy also encourage people to change their situation in non-religious ways too. It is important to counter claims by people such as Lawrence Harrison that Vodou encourages laziness and is somehow progress-resistant. First, almost everything in Haiti gets done through social networks and relationships. Being part of a Vodou community links you into an important network and provides a safety net. This is especially important for people who leave their family homestead for opportunities in cities. Second, Vodou encourages people to take individual responsibility and proactively work to fix their situation. It is not enough just to pray or make an offering. This can help open doors, but it is the person's responsibility to walk through them. Hard work, supporting their family, fighting injustice, and respecting the environment are all important aspects of Vodou religious philosophy. The lwa also provide models of how individuals can succeed through appropriate behaviors. For example, Azaka is a hard-working peasant farmer who is dedicated to his wife and a smart businessman. Likewise his wife is a shrewd negotiator in the market place, the one who controls the money in the marriage, and a dedicated wife. Together they provide a model for marriage and hard-work, but they are not perfect in the way Christians would describe Jesus or Muslims Mohammad. Sometimes Azaka drinks too much or the two fight. They are flawed because they represent real models of living - not an idealized model that is unattainable for the normal person. 

       Like any religion, Vodou is a lived tradition meaning that there are overarching religious tenants but people bring these with them out from the temple and altar into the world where they live. Religion permeates every aspect of life so that it is difficult at times to separate out religious beliefs from ideas about family, the land, economy, and other daily concerns. This is why it is helpful to learn about Vodou if you want to understand Haiti but also to learn about Haiti if you want to understand Vodou. The two are intertwined and impossible to fully untangle. Though people do convert to Protestant forms of Christianity that reject any mixing with African based traditions, they still grow up in a world where Vodou folkstories, songs, art, dietary restrictions, and religious calendars are important parts of the culture. People may find that claiming to be purely Catholic or Protestant useful for gaining certain positions or access to NGOs, but then turn to Vodou for healing when the doctor fails. These lines are porous and overlapping and in the end people often do what works for them and is meaningful at that moment. These negotiations and tensions become complicated for Haitians who immigrate to other areas such as New York, Miami and Boston. Here they have to rethink what it means to be a Haitian Vodouisant outside of the context of Haiti. Also, in response to the negative stigmas we often see of Vodou in movies and the media, many practitioners have sought to educate people about their faith. Therefore, Vodou is in an interesting moment where practitioners are thinking about their religion both as insiders and outsiders and figuring out how to present it to the world. This has also meant a sudden interest in the religion from some New Age and Neo-Pagan traditions, which has created mixed feelings from Vodouisants. On the one hand it helps legitimize their faith and make it seem safe. On the other, the Neo-Colonial attitudes of some people who co-opt their religion and represent it in ways that are very offensive to Haitians is highly upsetting to them. 

       These issues of negotiating diasporic experiences through Vodou are what my own dissertation work focus upon. In addition to answering any questions about Vodou in general I am also happy to talk about experiences of Vodouisants in the diaspora. Below you will find suggestions for further reading if you would like to do your own scholarly research. I've also added a brief excerpt from some of my early fieldnotes that I typed up a few years ago. You can also see some photos I've taken along with descriptions for clarity here

If you have questions or want clarification please comment on the HoI post here so that we can hold our discussion via Reddit. Thanks for reading!

http://dreamsofginen.wordpress.com/


http://blog.vodouboston.com/


Bellegarde-Smith, Patrick and Claudine Michel
2006. Haitian Vodou: Spirit, Myth, and Reality. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

- 2006. Vodou in Haitian Life and Culture: Invisible Powers. New York: Palgrave
Macmillan.

Brown, Karen McCarthy
1987. "Plenty Confidence in Myself”: The InitiationMcAlister, E.

- 2002. Rara! Vodou, Power, and Performance in Haiti and Its Diaspora. Berkeley and
Los Angeles: University of California Press.

- 2001. Mama Lola: A Vodou Priestess in Brooklyn. Berkeley: University of California
Press.

- 2001. “Mimesis in the Face of Fear: Femme Queens, Butch Queens, and Gender Play in
the Houses of Greater Newark.” In Linda Schlossberg and Maria Sanchez, ed. Passing:
Identity and Interpretation in Sexuality, Race, and Religion. New York: NYU Press.

Deren, Maya.
1953. Divine Horsemen: The Living Gods of Haiti. Kingston: Documentext

Desmangles, Leslie
1992. The Faces of the Gods: Vodou and Roman Catholicism in Haiti. Chapel Hill:
University of North Carolina Press.

Drewal, Henry John
2008. Sacred Waters: Arts for Mami Wata and Other Divinities in Africa and the
Diaspora. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Richman, Karen
2005. Migration and Vodou. Gainesville, FL: University of Florida Press.




All photos and text are my own original work. 
If you would like to reproduce them in whole or in part please contact me first. Thanks!

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

[HoI] Pearl of the Antilles (Haiti Today 1/6)



WELCOME TO THE  First LESSON FOR HAITI TODAY, 

PART OF THE HISTORY OF IDEAS ACADEMY

You can find the outline for the course here. Please post all comments, requests, and questions in the Reddit post rather than the blog. That way we can continue our discussion within the History of Ideas subreddit.

History of the Pearl of the Antilles 
Alternate title: How dafuq did Haiti get here?


                The island of Hispaniola, as it was originally called, was discovered by Christopher Columbus in 1492. The island was inhabited by the Taino who called the island Haiti/Ayiti, which meant Mountainous Land. Columbus was impressed with how good the locals had it – only a few hours of work a day and the rest spent relaxing, playing, and visiting with friends. Good old Christopher was a pretty awful human being, though, and he quickly enslaved the Taino, took their resources, and brutally killed many of them. Many of the survivors of his rule died from smallpox so that the Spanish soon realized they would need another source for slaves. Conveniently for them (though quite unconveniently for the slaves) Europeans had discovered slave sources in Western Africa and they began shipping in enslaved peoples to work the land.

                Spain initially claimed the island, but France decided it wanted a piece of the pie and went for the old squatters’ rights argument. In 1697, Spain gave in allowing France to officially take over the Western half, which they called San Domingue. France focused on sugar and it paid off big time. It exported more sugar than all of the British colonies combined and more coffee and rum than all the colonies of Spain. In short, San Domingue became the richest colony in the West Indies and a huge cash cow for France. However, this profit came at a steep price. Unlike many other colonies, San Domingue did not focus on reproducing the slave population but rather on constantly replacing it since most slaves could not survive the harsh conditions long enough to raise children. In fact, the average life expectancy for a slave in San Domingue was 21 years. Despite these difficult material conditions, social mobility was more flexible in many French colonies for two reasons: the Code Noir (France’s legal code for slavery) provided a way for slaves to make their own money and purchase freedom and the popularity of plaçage in which male French colonialists kept mulatto women as mistresses. The children of these arrangements were usually granted freedom, and eventually the free people of color became an important merchant middle class in Haiti during colonialism called the affranchis.

                At the time of the revolution, 90% of San Domingue’s population were enslaved and 2/3 of these slaves had been born in Africa. This is why the Haitian revolution is often called an African revolution and a good reason why so many African traditions and cultural aspects were retained. But I’m getting ahead of myself. First, it is important to note that about 40% of those slaves came from the Kongo. Why does that matter? Well there was a big civil war going on in the Kongo at that time over who would be the next Christian King or Queen of the nation. Both sides captured one another’s soldiers and sold them to slave traders in exchange for resources. (Side note: most slaves were not sold for weapons, but this is one case where the old stereotype holds true.) Some scholars such as Linda Heywood and John Thornton have suggested that this meant many of the Kongolese slaves in Haiti were trained soldiers. So not only did you have an island where 500,000 people (90% of the population) were enslaved in a very brutal form of slavery but up to 200,000 of those might have been trained and very angry soldiers. Second, it is important to look at the demographics of the rest of the population. There were about 31,000 whites, some of whom were successful plantation owners (gran blans) and some of whom were just merchants (petit blans.) There were also about 28,000 affranchis, some of whom were in direct competition to the gran blans as plantation owners themselves. Therefore, the affranchis were not necessarily on the side of the slaves but rather you had an island with three populations all pitted against one another. It was a ticking time bomb. And in 1791, it exploded.

                August 14, 1791, elite slaves from plantations in the northern plain gathered on the Lenormand de Mezy plantation at a place called Bois Caiman to plot a revolt. They held a Vodou ceremony where they sacrificed a black pig and a slave named Boukman prayed for success. Folklore holds that Boukman’s prayer went, The god who created the earth; who created the sun that gives us light. The god who holds up the ocean; who makes the thunder roar. Our God who has ears to hear. You who are hidden in the clouds; who watch us from where you are. You see all that the white has made us suffer. The white man's god asks him to commit crimes. But the god within us wants to do good. Our god, who is so good, so just, He orders us to revenge our wrongs. It's He who will direct our arms and bring us the victory. It's He who will assist us. We all should throw away the image of the white men's god who is so pitiless. Listen to the voice for liberty that speaks in all our hearts." While this prayer is very likely not what he actually said, it does reflect the anger and search for justice that many slaves must have felt being ripped from their homes, enslaved in horrible conditions, and being forcibly baptized into Catholicism.

                The rebellion in the North soon spread like wildfire and was incredibly violent, but it was not initially well organized. This was in part because some original leaders such as Toussaint Louverture originally wanted to work with France rather than fight. Louverture was born a slave but gained his freedom at age 33 and became a well educated affranchis. He joined the revolution early on rising up from being a doctor to a military commander in a short amount of time. Once the island was fairly secure, he reached out to Napoleon to try and broker a deal. The goal was not to become free from France – just to gain freedom for slaves and become equal citizens. He shocked the French by writing incredibly eloquent letters that justified the revolution using the same philosophies that justified the French Revolution (hence the nickname for him and the other revolutionary leaders as the Black Jacobins.) Unfortunately for him, Napoleon was not the least interested in losing the workforce for his prized colony that was going to pay for his empire’s expansion. So in 1802, sneaky Napoleon sent his brother LeClerc to the island where he lured Louverture in with a dinner invitation, kidnapped him, and then forced him into exile where he died. Unfortunately for Napoleon, however, due to a combination of yellow fever and military losses he was never able to regain control of the island despite the thousands of troops he threw at Haiti. Without his cash cow and with other military engagements looming, Napoleon made the decision to sell the Louisiana Purchase at a famously good price. In 1804, the military leaders of the Haitian revolution declared the island free and independent. Thus, Haiti became the first free black republic in the world.

                However, becoming a free black nation through a slave uprising in a time when African slaves were awfully popular in the Western world doesn’t happen without consequences. It scared American and European countries, who refused to acknowledge the new nation and maintained an embargo until 1863. France also demanded that Haiti pay restitution of 150 million gold francs to the plantation owners who lost their land, slaves, and sugar cane or else they would invade again. Allowing for inflation and the insane interests rates France charged, this came to $22 billion, which was a crippling amount to the new nation. But they paid it back. Oh it wasn’t easy. By 1900, 80% of their GDP went towards payments. And to do this they often had to take out loans from other countries. Yet, by 1947, they had paid it all off. But, by then they were also the poorest nation in the western hemisphere.

               Now this is not the sole reason Haiti is poor. But it is a very important factor. And I think it is a bit mindblowing that while in America people discuss the US government paying reparations to descendents of slaves in Haiti descendents of slaves had to pay France reparations for their own freedom. 200 years after the revolution, Haitian president Aristide demanded that France’s president Chirac return the money. Not too surprisingly, these requests were denied.

               After the revolution, racial and political tensions were still problematic. Henry Christophe declared himself King of Haiti and took over the North, while another military leader Alexandre Petion took over Southern regions. (Also, little known fact, but Petion provided refuge and help to Simon Bolivar. And, in 1820, Haitians assisted Greece in their struggle for independence against Turkey. This continued a tradition begun in 1799, when 750 Haitians fought in the American revolution.) Christophe instituted a brutal feudal system while Petion maintained a republic, which is why when Petion died no one in the South wanted Christophe to take over. Instead they elected Jean-Pierre Boyer. When Christophe became ill he committed suicide and Boyer took over not only the North but the entire island, liberating Santo Domingo from Spain.  But the payments Boyer agreed to make to France for their freedom were disastrous for the economy and he had to flee to Jamaica when the people revolted. By the 1860s, Spain regained the DR and Haiti began its history of electing and appointing presidents that rarely lasted long and were often corrupt.

               For example, in 1915, President Sam made the unpopular decision to execute 167 political prisoners. The angry populace overtook the French embassy where he’d fled, killed him, and then tore his body to pieces in the streets. The US decided to use this as an excuse to occupy Haiti and President Woodrow Wilson sent 3,000 marines to control the island. They spent 19 years controlling every aspect of the government, not even allowing the Haitian flag to fly at the capital, which was why guerilla forces outside the cities attempted to regain control. They were never successful and thousands of Haitians died in these skirmishes.  The Catholic Church also used this opportunity for an Anti-Superstition Campaign aimed at wiping out all Vodou practices. People were forced to burn their religious icons and altars. They renewed these campaigns a few more times after the US left. However, the US did build a lot of infrastructure and brought stability to the island.  Today the Haitian people remember the US occupation with a mix of feelings. Some see it as just another way that Haiti has been colonized, used, and disposed of by the West. Others wish the US would return and make Haiti into a territory like the Philippines and Puerto Rico. After all, the US has continued to play a heavy hand in Haitian politics ever since.

               In 1934, the US officially left Haiti and they were able for the first time in 19 years to fly their flag and elect their own leaders. However, on the other side of the island Rafael Trujillo Molina had just recently taken control of the Dominican Republic. He institutionalized antihatianismo (anti-Haitian sentiments i.e. racism) and made it part of the school curriculum. Ever since colonization, the border between the two nations had been porous with families straddling the lines and people freely moving between both countries for work. In October of 1937, Trujillo ordered the ethnic cleansing
 of every Haitian living in the Dominican Republic. The borders were sealed and for five days ethnic Haitians within the Dominican borders were actively hunted down and murdered with machetes, guns, and clubs. Haitians sometimes call it the Parsley Massacre because soldiers would hold up a sprig of parsley and ask people what it was. The Spanish word for parsley is perejil, but most Haitians cannot trill the “r” in the word. If someone could not pronounce it correctly, they were killed. At the end of five days 38,000 ethnic Haitians were murdered, some of whom had been born in the Dominican Republic. President Roosevelt and the current Haitian president eventually convinced the Dominican government to pay reparations of $30 a victim, though most of that never made it to the families. Trujillo remained in power.

               In 1957, a medical doctor named Francois Duvalier was elected on a populist and black nationalist platform. It is important to note that in Haiti there is a social divide between the mulattos and blacks, the two local racial types. Mulattos claim heritage from the French colonials and typically are better educated, well off financially, and use French to differentiate themselves from the masses. They are the social and political elite. Blacks make up the majority of Haitians both in the cities and countryside. They tend to be less well educated, poorer, and speak Haitian Kreyol. It would be easy to assign our own racial understandings to these classifications, but in reality it is more complicated than that. They have more to do with class than genetics. A local proverb goes, “Neg rich se mulat, mulat pov se noua" meaning a rich black man is a mulatto and a poor mulatto is black. I’ll talk more about this in another post, but for now it is sufficient to understand that there is a fair amount of resentment from the lower class against the elite upper class. Duvalier was highly educated, but came from the black class and therefore it was a big deal for the people when he was elected in a landslide. Unfortunately, Papa Doc (as his patients had fondly called him) turned out to be an evil dictator.

               Now I’m an anthropologist and I don’t use the world evil often. But if Papa Doc wasn’t evil when he was elected he sure became it. In 1958, he turned the military into his own personal army to ensure he retained power and appointed all new chiefs of staff that were loyal to him. He kicked out all foreign born bishops (which initially got him excommunicated) thereby removing any influence from the Church. In 1959, he created the Tonton Macoute a rural militia named after a boogeyman from stories used to scare children into behaving. People joined for a chance to have power for the first time in their lives. This led to the Tonton Macoutes not only carrying out the violent political whims of Papa Doc but also establishing their own little dictatorships in the countryside. Opponents were burned alive, stoned, forced to rape their own mothers, and their corpses displayed as a warning to others. Papa Doc had also studied Vodou as an outsider when he was younger, and he used this knowledge to convince the people that he had a dangerous spiritual power (in local terms he practiced with the left hand meaning he was a sorcerer.) In 1963, he rigged his illegal re-election and in 1964 made himself President for Life. It is estimated that around 60,000 Haitians were killed during his reign for crossing his path.

               Papa Doc died in 1971, but he passed on his dictatorship to his son Jean-Claude Duvalier AKA Baby Doc who was only 19 at the time. He preferred being a playboy to being a politician, though he did ease some superficial aspects of his father’s regime. He turned over most of the decisions to his father’s advisors and instead focused on his $3 million USD wedding to a mulatto woman. Neither the price tag nor the choice of wife was seen favorably by the people. Things continued to go downhill for Baby Doc from there. In 1978, the US government decided that to prevent the swine flu from affecting American pigs they had to kill all of Haiti’s black creole pig population. Peasants in Haiti used the pigs as walking savings accounts – a pig could pay for a child’s education, a new house, or any number of other life events. Overnight their investments disappeared and the breed, which was well suited to the island, is gone for good. In the early 80s, AIDs became a huge problem in Haiti, especially since most people had no access to doctors. I'll talk more about AIDs later, but it was devastating to the island. Finally, the people had had enough and began large scale revolts. In 1986, Baby Doc fled to France where he lived in exile. For a while.

               Elections in 1987 were fraught with violence, but in 1991 a former priest named Jean-Bertrand Aristide was democratically elected. He had been a strong social advocate for the people and a liberation theologian and therefore an enemy of the Duvaliers and the Catholic Church. Before his term even began, a former Tonton Macoute attempted to claim the presidency. Within a few months Aristide was run out of Haiti by a coup d’état. The coup regime stayed in power in part due to violent repercussions against Aristide supporters and in part due to their lucrative relationship with the Cali Cartel. In 1994, with the help of the US, the coup regime backed down and Aristide returned but he was only allowed to finish out the remainder of his term. He was re-elected in 2001, and instituted a number of reforms that helped the poorer class to the anger of the elite and the US textile companies who opposed raising the minimum wage. However, some argue he often did this through less than democratic means. In 2004, Aristide claimed that the US showed up in the middle of the night to force him to resign and whisk him away to exile. He and many of his political allies found a safe haven in South Africa and he remained there in exile. For a while.

               In January of 2010, a 7.0 magnitude earthquake hit Haiti killing somewhere between 60,000 and 300,000. Why the disparity? Well, mostly because the hardest hit areas were slums and shanty towns in Port-au-Prince. These buildings never had a chance of surviving the earthquake, and many were built right on top of another. Afterwards, it was difficult for agencies to figure out how many people had lived in the destroyed areas just by looking at the structures and most people were not registered in any way. The streets overflowed with bodies to the point that mass graves were dug and the dead unceremoniously dumped. Not that there were many other options, but it violates religious beliefs and prevented many people from knowing for sure what happened to their loved ones. Plus, no one kept count of the bodies buried. The Haitian government claimed the dead numbered more than 300,000, but the USAID later conducted polls of surviving neighbors and determined the number should be somewhere around 60,000. The same 2011 report also used polling of neighbors to determine the displaced number was around 895,000 rather than 1.5 million and those living in temporary camps 375,000 rather than 670,000. There were accusations that the Haitian government exploited international aid using inflated numbers. The Haitian government claims that their numbers are correct, and that since aid from the US is based on such numbers there is a conspiracy about a conspiracy to avoid giving more aid. In the end we’ll probably never know about the true number of dead, but regardless of the final tally it was absolutely devastating to the nation.

               Then, in a bizarre turn of events, in 2011 Aristide and Baby Doc both decided to return to Haiti. Baby Doc was arrested, but so far has not been tried for any of his crimes. Everyone was nervous that they would try to interfere with the presidential election, but nothing happened. Today both former presidents are residing in Haiti and the world is waiting to see what they are up to. Until then, we’ll just have to watch and wait. Meanwhile, Haiti faces a serious cholera epidemic, the aftermath of Hurricane Isaac, a lack of housing, heavy handed influence from other countries and NGOs, and (as always) corrupt politicians.

I will leave details about the aftermath and reconstruction for another post. But to understand the contemporary situation in Haiti, I believe it is important to understand the country’s history. Though my sketch is simple and obviously leaves out some things, I hope it sets the stage. If there is anything missing that you would like to know more about just ask. Next week I’ll talk about the Vodou religion and how it is lived by the people. But for now I’d like to open this up to questions, requests for clarifications, and discussions which I welcome you to post here. Also, below you’ll find a list of books for further reading if you’re interested in doing your own scholarly work.


Further Reading and Sources


Trouillot, Michel-Rolph. (1995) Silencing the Past: Power in the Making of History. Boston: Beacon Press.

Fatton, Robert Jr. (2002) Haiti’s Predatory Republic: The Unending Transition to Democracy. Lynne Rienner.

Dupuy, Alex. (2007) The Prophet and Power: Jean-Bertrand Aristide, the International community, and Haiti. Rowman & Littlefield Publishers.

Dupuy, Alex. (1989) Haiti in the World Economy. Westview Press.

Wilson, Samuel Meredith (1990) Hispaniola: Caribbean chiefdoms in the age of Columbus. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama

Hallward, Peter (2007) Damming the Flood: Haiti and the Politics of Containment. London:Verso




All photographs are my own taken during trips to Haiti and the writing is my own. If you would like to reproduce this post whole or in part please contact me first. Thanks!