Sometimes it's best to listen, ponder-to become part of a message. When that messenger's seal is authentic you are served with more than just information. You are pulled into his orb and become part of his experience. Today, that experience is Haiti-its history, its politics, its psyche. And the history is a painful one-being resurrected in the lobby of the Venezuelan Consulate in midtown Manhattan, courtesy of Ray La Forest, a steering committee member of the International Support for Haiti. It was a personal exchange that only deepened my understanding of that country's political turmoil.
La Forest is mulatoo and son of a privileged family who commanded no less than eight servants. He chronicles a gripping and complex tale of privilege, identity, class, colour and political realism. His account is hardly linear. It's muddled with foreign interference, alongside hostilities between mulatoos and black elites. There is mention of Papa Doc, and his courtship of Syrians (now among the upper echelon), as he became increasingly isolated; and his 1963 bloody attack on the mulatoos in Jeremie for backing a coup against him. Against this dizzying backdrop, the black majority remained politically and economically suffocated.
Since the removal of the Duvaliers, Haiti has seen its fair share of presidents-but none has delivered. And there is no reason to believe that the current adminis- tration will serve the interests of the people. Michel Martelly, Haiti's recently elected President, is called "bold and flamboyant"-charismatic qualities that attracted the people. But La Forest cautioned against optimism, citing the connection of the new administration to the Duvalier regime-with three Cabinet ministers whose fathers served under Duvalier-and Mar-telly, a member of the notorious Tonton Macoute in his teenage years. Martelly, financed by Haiti's upper crust, was also a vociferous opponent of Jean Claude Aristide-a true populist who welcomed relations with Cuba, promoted education, improved wages to two dollars a day, and checked the overreaching role and abuses of the security forces.
During his early political years, over a million Haitians rallied to Aristide's defence against his opponent, Roger La Fontante. Later, Aristide was forcibly removed, only to return with a vacillation that confused the Haitian people-he too a victim of outside interference. In recent months, Martelly has prioritised the rebuilding of the armed forces-a portentous move-questioned even by his benefactors. Equally ominous is the President's intention to continue the ineffectual and anti-nationalist policies undertaken by the former Preval administration. It is an economic model called "Chilean" in its format and scope. Here, Haiti's society is restructured, only to dance with unfettered privatisation. La Forest and I agree that this economic model had torpedoed Haitians into a downward spiral of social and economic disenfranchisement. You see, Haiti's bourgeoisie has always served its interests and those of an outside power-mortgaging the nation and the livelihood of the majority.
That Haiti's present administration is more of the same is tragic. Haiti remains a political mess that no one can fully fathom. It's one thing to state that Haiti was brought to its knees-first by demands of the French for reparations and later by US jingoism. But what puzzles is the willful collaboration of Haiti's ruling class with outside powers, and the limitless reach of concessionaires to rape the land and exploit nationals. It is bewildering and unforgivable that the well-heeled class can turn a blind eye to the nation's wretchedness. That Haitians, unlike any other, fought for and won their independence begs the question: Has their valour been crushed into oblivion with decades of oppression?
Haitians are tired and perplexed. "When a mosquito flies, they don't know if it's male or female," La Forest tells me, referring to the questionable character of those at the helm of political power. He cites a remark by Aristide that Haitians are moving up from misery to poverty-chilling words that encapsulate Haiti's enduring quagmire. With a succession of failed governments, Haitians must be willing to cough up the last vestige of political will and demand transparency, accountability, and a government willing to serve them. They have been tested before and proved their resilience. The coming months are pivotal.
As for foreign interference, I am reminded of La Forest's colourful language-uttered in Creole, then English: "If you say 'good morning' to the devil, he will eat you. If you refuse to say 'good morning,' he will still eat you." In other words, there is no middle ground for Haiti. Its political leaders cannot sit on two tables-serving two masters. Elected officials are, in effect, servants of the people. But amid the bleakest of forecasts, many nations have risen from smoldering ashes. The geo-political and economic shift toward regional cooperation, sovereignty, and socialist ideals throughout Latin America can be a boon for Haiti, finally.
Venezuela's overwhelming and unparallelled contribution to Haiti after the devastating earthquake-a fact underplayed in the western media-signalled the strengthening of ties between the two nations. The implications of this bilateral cooperation are manifold. Haiti's leaders have a clear choice: To lean left and adopt a people-centred approach to governance, or lean right and experience the tightening of the political albatross that has plagued the nation for close to a century. For the moment, though, we must wait with bated breath for Martelly's next move, mindful of the dictum: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
• Dr Glenville Ashby is the New York correspondent for the Guardian Media Group
