Democracy, Haitian Style

Thursday, March 09, 2006

It’s February 6^th, 2006, the long-anticipated election day in Haiti. Two years have passed since the forced departure of former President Jean-Bertrand Aristide. Even though the people have been assured that the situation is under control, they cannot ignore the vivid memory of September 29^th, 1987 . On that day, Haiti was supposed to transition from temporary military leadership to free democracy. Instead, the country was scarred by a massacre targeting voters on their way to polls in Port-au-Prince. If Haitians do not easily forget, it is partly because the tragedies of their history are so recent.

As morning unfolds, word spreads around Porte-au-Prince’s network of friends and neighbors—it is safe to go to the polls. I depart for the local school with Pè Vital, a distinguished 78-year-old man who is a fixture in the community and my host here in the capital. We arrive at the school to a mob of people; they are anxiously waiting to fulfill their civic duty. Like those in many parts of the country, the polling station opened hours later than expected. As an elder, Pè Vital is ushered to the front of the line. Upon inspection of my Minnesota Driver’s License, a poll worker lets me enter, no questions asked. I may not be an elections observer, but being a Minnesotan is clearly good for something.

Sadly, many Haitians could not make it to the polls with such ease. Chaos reigned in much of the country. Polls opened late, police used force to keep order, and voters clamored to get their ballots. Despite these challenges, the Haitian people made it clear that they want change, and they won’t let anything stand in their way. When the authorities refused to open voting booths in the vast slum of Cité Soleil, residents took to the streets in massive non-violent protest. The booths finally opened, and they redirected their energies to casting their ballots.

As election day came to a close, I felt the weight of a collective sigh of relief passing through the neighborhoods of Haiti. The election hadn’t been perfect, but it wasn’t another 1987. The following Sunday, however, everything changed. The authorities announced that René Preval, the hugely popular candidate of Haiti’s poor majority, had not won the clear majority needed to avoid a second round of elections. That same evening, the news broadcast images of full ballot boxes that were discovered among garbage in a poor neighborhood. Days of intense protesting ensued, culminating in the takeover of the Hotel Montana, Port-au-Prince’s finest hotel and the headquarters of the UN mission, by a mob of protesters. The protesters took their own approach to displaying their malcontent with the political situation; rather than ransacking the hotel, they ate the food, drank the champagne, and swam in the pool meant for foreign diplomats.

In response to the intensity of the protests, the Provisional Electoral Council had no choice but to proclaim Preval’s victory. In dire straits, they decided not to count blank ballots, thus ensuring Preval an absolute majority. The 2006 Haitian election did not follow the rules of a model democracy. Instead, with courage and non-violent protest, the people demanded a peaceful transition to a truly representative government. In this way, Haiti followed its own model of democracy. The Haitian people are willing to take their future into their own hands, if only their voice will be heard.

At 1:59 PM, SarahLynn said…

This is an awesome view into something I would probably never get to see in real life!! Thanks for the photos and the details on what went on where you are in Fondwa. It's inspiring to see people want their voices heard.