Gender, Headlines, Human Rights, Latin America & the Caribbean

FILM: Haiti Teeters on the Brink

Katherine Stapp

NEW YORK, Aug 31 2005 (IPS) - The world may be focused on Iraq’s Oct. 15 elections, but an equally critical vote will soon take place in the first country in the Americas after the United States to declare its independence.

On Nov. 13, Haiti will hold its first national polls since President Jean-Baptiste Aristide was forced from office on Feb. 29, 2004. A new documentary by Wozo Productions and New York’s Two Tone Productions, called “Unfinished Country”, which premieres on the U.S. public television series Wide Angle Sep. 6, examines Haiti’s uphill struggle to create democracy from decades of violence and neglect.

In its 200 years of independence, Haiti has had 44 leaders, the filmmakers note, and just seven have served out their terms.

Jane Regan, a former IPS correspondent from Haiti and producer of the documentary, told IPS that the goal was to find four or five people who would, together, “offer a partial picture of the kaleidoscope of Haitian society”.

“We only made it part way because there is no peasant or person representing what Haitians call the ‘country outside the country’ – the rural world,” she added.

We meet Butteur Métayer, who believed Aristide was behind the gruesome murder of his brother, Cuban Métayer. In 2004, Butteur took over Cuban’s gang and took to the streets. He was joined by Guy Philippe, a Haitian Army officer exiled by Aristide in 1997 for attempting a coup.

A key figure in the civil strife that led to Aristide’s departure and exile in Africa, Philippe is now running for president under the banner of a new party called the National Front.

We also meet Patrick Fequière, a prominent Haitian businessman and head of operations for the Provisional Electoral Council, charged with getting 424 polling stations up and running in the next three months, chosen because of his “incorruptible reputation”.

“Even with a brand-new computer system provided by the U.N., registering four and a half million voters, half of whom have no identification of any kind, will be a challenge,” says Fequière, a bearish and disarmingly plainspoken man.

“I’m like a pit bull, okay. And I’m gonna keep biting their asses until they do what they have to do and do it right,” says in the film.

And we meet Serge Cantave, a member of the insular Haitian upper class, who runs a tree-planting project on Haiti’s decimated hilltops. Unrestricted logging has left the land 97 percent treeless, while neighbouring countries are still almost half forest, the narration notes.

“From the U.S. – they were referring our Haitian elite as M.R.E.s: ‘Most Repugnant Elite.’ At first, I was really hurt by my feelings because I’m a proud Haitian and… But when you really get, get in really deep in what M.R.E means… Looking at the Haitian elite, it is so true,” Cantave says.

Daniel Morel, a co-producer of the film, told IPS, “I think that it is the first time in decades that at least some younger members of the elite are starting to think about more than their pockets. I think they finally understand the danger that is threatening their country.”

But with escalating violence in the capital – as many as 30 people were reportedly killed at a football match earlier this month as police stood by – the fate of the elections remains in doubt.

“I don’t think any of the candidates – and there are something like 50 candidates for president – are generating enthusiasm,” Regan said.

“People in general don’t trust anyone, they don’t trust the little they know about so-called ‘democracy’ since there have been coups and violence and failed or crooked elections and lies and betrayals, and they don’t trust politicians, the U.N. or the U.S. – and the U.S. and U.N. are the ones really pushing the elections.”

While some of those interviewed are determined to participate – one elderly man says he came to the registration site “as a citizen to do my duty” – others are angry and full of despair.

“They’re talking about elections,” says Elizna Nicolas, a former Lavalas organiser and resident of the garbage-strewn La Saline slum. “But 80 percent of the people live in places like this. Can we vote in these conditions? No way.”

Nicolas shares a dark one-room shack with her seven children. They all sleep in a single bed – the oldest three on top and the little ones with their mother on the floor beneath. She used to earn a decent living as a street vendor until, she says, the ex-rebels stole the truck with all her goods.

“I’m not going to do an elections card. I’m not doing anything,” she says, as her young son – who has not been in school since Aristide’s ouster – untangles copper wire to sell. “Because we struggled so much to bring democracy. And this democracy has only made things worse.”

Nicolas, and thousands of others, refuse to accept that Aristide is gone, insisting that he must finish his term before fresh elections are called. They have vowed to boycott the polls, and could be a decisive factor in the success or failure of the November elections.

“It is important to understand that by the time Aristide left, the real groundswell of support for Aristide had dried up,” Regan said.

His remaining backers were mostly associated with the political or bureaucratic power structure – politicians and paid street organisers – and some have now openly split and say they want to participate in the elections, she explained.

“Others, the poorer and more desperate ones, still seem to think Aristide will come back and they will once again get the hand-outs or ‘zombie’ checks or other advantages they had,” she told IPS. “That is why they are desperate and that is why some of their neighbours will support them and participate in demonstrations.”

One of the most powerful scenes is one of a women’s group that has assembled after renewed violence in the capital.

“The U.N. says they’re trying to help,” a young woman says. “No. To me, the U.N. are tourists. They came here to get tan. They buy mangoes. They drink coconut juice all day long. They go to the beach. They smoke. They eat bread. That’s it.”

Regan told IPS: “There’s a proverb in Haiti: ‘Fanm se poto mitan.’ It means: ‘Women are the centerpost.’ That’s because women are crucial to the economy – both rural and urban – as well as to the family and to education.”

“But women are as excluded as they are in every other part of society. There are some foreign women playing roles in the U.S. and OAS (Organisation of American States). As for Haitian women, there are a couple of prominent Haitian women: the mayor of the capital is a woman, and three or four relatively prominent political parties have women at their heads or as the ‘number two’.”

“There has been progress over the past 10 years, and they are also behind the scenes, in the offices or homes of fields supporting the politicians and diplomats and peacekeepers. Actually, some Haitian police and U.N. peacekeepers are women. But, as in the U.S., it is mostly a man’s affair,” she said.