This presentation took place during a December 2, 2021, webinar. Toward Freedom has 69 years of experience publishing independent reports and analyses that document the struggles for liberation of the majority of the world’s people. Now, with a new editor, Julie Varughese, at its helm, what does the future look like for Toward Freedom and for independent media? Toward Freedom‘s board of directors formally welcomed Julie as the new editor. She reported back on her time covering Nicaragua’s critical presidential election. New contributors Danny Shaw and Jacqueline Luqman also spoke on their work for Toward Freedom as it relates to the value of independent media. Danny touched on the rising Pink Tide in Latin America while Jacqueline discussed the role of the Pentagon in Hollywood.
Editor’s Note: This lightly edited article was originally published by The Real News.
Unless you’re buck naked as you read this, chances are that you’re wearing at least one garment manufactured in the Haitian apparel factories of Port-au-Prince, Caracol and Ouanaminthe. Those Hanes or Fruit-of-the-Loom briefs in your dresser drawer; the classic Levi’s denim jacket hanging in your closet; or that cheapo, trendy, puff-sleeved H&M frock you hope to add to your spring wardrobe—all of them were likely made by men and women in Haiti earning the barest of minimum wages.
Since 2019—until the government announced a modest, unsatisfactory hike just two weeks ago to quell the workers’ fighting spirit—the Haitian minimum wage for garment workers making clothing for export has been 500 gourdes a day (or $4.82 USD). The math is even crueler than expected: In exchange for an eight-hour work day, around 57,000 Haitian garment workers have been earning almost three cents less per hour than the average incarcerated worker in the United States makes, which is only 63 cents per hour.
With their products sold at major outlets like Walmart, Target, Zara and The Gap, 62 U.S. brands have profited handsomely for years by paying miserly, unlivable wages to Haitian workers. But on February 9 and 10, too poor even for strike accoutrement like matching tee-shirts or printed placards, workers marched out of the factories en masse in the first of several strategic strikes. Pouring into the streets, they raised their voices in protest of the daily exploitation and destitution they endure. Their only protest swag consisted of common leafy twigs held high in affirmation of their right to a portion of this earth’s abundance in their lifetimes. Poetry in motion; they do not stand alone.
On behalf of its 50 million members worldwide, the secrétaire général of the IndustriALL global union in Geneva, Atle Høie, wrote to Haiti’s Acting Prime Minister and President, Ariel Henry, urging wage relief for workers whose earning power is being crushed by inflation. Since then, the tidal wave of support for the Haitian strikers has continued to swell. Workers United, the successor union in North America to the International Ladies and Garment Workers Union, issued a statement of solidarity. Secretary Treasurer Edgar Romero admonished U.S. companies for their silence as their workers were being assaulted by state police, and reminded them that their actions are not invisible:
The world is watching, and will call to task the companies that are profiting manyfold on the backs of our Haitian brothers and sisters. It’s time for corporations, especially our American companies who import garments manufactured in Haiti to step up, and pay workers what they deserve.
Your brand is at stake.
Exploitation of Workers Is Stitched In
According to Ose Pierre, a representative of the Solidarity Center, the largest U.S.-based international worker rights organization, who is working to support the labor movement in Haiti, a typical Haitian garment worker starts their workday at 6:30 a.m. Too early to cook and eat before they leave home, many workers buy breakfast from vendors, a meal referred to in Haiti as “lunch before work.” With food and drink, “lunch before work” costs about 100 gourdes, Pierre told The Real News. They also buy their “manje midi,” or noon meal (a plate of rice, beans and meat), for about 200 gourdes. Transportation, depending on where they live, could cost 100 gourdes. With four-fifths of their day’s earnings wiped out by necessities, the only way to get marginally ahead is to volunteer for “the wages of production.”
Though the phrase might sound innocuous, wages of production is a discretionary bonus system based on over-and-above production, wherein a line of 10 or so workers make side deals with their bosses. “An importer decides, ‘Well, you were going to make 5,000 of these, but if you do 7,000 you can have some extra money,’” Pierre explained. “The workers have to work extra hard and fast.”
Almost every economic hardship in modern Haiti can be traced back to the unprecedented reparations debt that Haiti, the victor over France in its revolutionary war, was saddled with in 1825 in exchange for recognition of its independence and sovereignty—the equivalent of $21 billion, which has been paid over 122 years, and was resolved only in 1947. As a consequence, Haiti’s development has been strangled and mauled at every turn, a structural power inequality that has led to a neocolonial dependency on foreign investment that has proven impossible for any Haitian government to overcome. All of former Prime Minister Jean-Bertrand Aristide’s efforts to significantly increase wages—in 1991, 1994 and 2004—were answered with coups, sanctions, smears or all of the above.
Similarly, many of the political hardships Haiti faces today, like the ongoing instability and insecurity in the aftermath of the July assassination of Haitian President Jovenel Moïse, can be traced back to the Core Group. Imposed upon Haiti by the United Nations in 2004 after the U.S.-backed coup that ousted Aristide, the Core Group is a multi-national supervisory body with the nebulous mission of “steering the electoral process.” Its creation was originally proposed as a six-month interim transition support measure, yet it endures to this day.
Proponents of the Montana Accord, a civil society proposal put forward by a coalition of 70 political organizations and social groups, want to plan for a transition of power to stabilize the country and move toward free and fair elections by 2023 without outside interference. By contrast, acting President and Prime Minister Ariel Henry, who is answerable to the Core Group, has been pushing for elections later in 2022, which will again presumably be “steered” in service of the interests of the oligarchic forces within Haiti and the forces of international capital at the expense of another generation of Haitian workers.
Garment Workers Forced to Strike, Face Tear Gas and Live Rounds
In tension with these systemic constraints, the Haitian constitution (Section 35: Freedom to Work) explicitly guarantees workers certain rights and duties: Among them the right to a fair wage, rest, vacation and bonus, and to unionize and strike. But legal ideals aside, for decades, garment workers have been denied anything approaching the standard of fairness.
In theory, the Superior Council of Wages (SCW) is responsible for analyzing socioeconomic factors and ensuring that the minimum wage reflects changes in the cost of living at scheduled reporting intervals. Additionally, any rise in inflation over 10 percent triggers a requirement for action under Article 137 of the Haitian Labor Code. But the SCW hasn’t fulfilled its charge; thus, on January 17, noting a current inflation rate of 22.8 percent, a coalition of nine trade unions representing or affiliated with garment workers in Haiti sent an open letter to Henry seeking a wage increase from 500 gourdes ($4.82) per day to 1,500 gourdes ($14.62). With that, the unions fired their opening salvo in what Mamyrah Prosper, international coordinator of the Pan-African Solidarity Network, called in her March 2 piece for Black Agenda Report, a “Different Fight for 15.”
In February, having been ignored by Henry, the unions joined the workers in the execution of a number of strategic, multi-day strikes to force the issue. Interested onlookers could follow events as they unfolded on the “Madame Boukman—Justice 4 Haiti” Twitter account, after she began posting about ValDor Apparel, a Florida-based company that shuttered its factory in Haiti on December 31, absconding with its workers’ wages. Madame Boukman told The Real News that, building on the positive international responses to her tweets, she’s seeing growing support for the workers’ movement in and outside of Haiti.
“It’s a movement that can transfer immense power from the small, but powerful, economic elite to the poor masses,” she observed. “Haiti’s minimum wage is the lowest in the region due to years of violent suppression by external and internal forces. With a near non-existent parliament, a de facto prime minister and no president, the masses are taking it into their own hands to set a path to a living wage.”
Their actions have started to move the needle. Talks between the government, foreign factory owners, and the unions have resulted in several incremental advances and concessions on wages and proposed supports, like transportation to work. But so far the negotiations have fallen short of the strikers’ primary demand: On February 21, the SCW acted to raise the minimum wage across sectors, and the highest wage, applicable to garment workers who are part of the import/export tranche, is now 770 gourdes, which amounts to roughly half of what garment workers are demanding.
Strikers returned to the streets again on February 23, but this time they were met with lethal state violence meant to terrorize them back to their sewing machines at any price. Pierre suspects this police violence has had the opposite effect and has stiffened strikers’ resolve, though videos of the police assault against peacefully demonstrating strikers are certainly shocking.
“The workers were protesting: They have their mobiles with music, and Haitian music is playing, and they’re dancing, and they have their flyers saying what they want—their demands,” he explained. “Then the Haitian National Police came. They used tear gas.”
Besides choking on the gas, some of the workers were burned by canisters that hit their bodies and feet. Amid the mayhem, another unknown police force reportedly came and shot into the crowd.
“Masked police without any identification badges came in white cars with generic plates… and they shot the peaceful workers, and three journalists,” Pierre said. Photojournalist Maxihen Lazarre was killed, and two other journalists were injured. Another worker was shot in the foot, three people were hospitalize and many others were injured, according to local reporting. The factories were then closed—ostensibly, the closures were for Carnival celebrations, but more likely they were intended to allow worker outrage, like the toxic gas fired by police, to dissipate.
“People ask me if I am safe in Haiti, and I say, ‘I am not safe, but I am quiet,’” Pierre said.
A History of Unaccountability Pervades the International Community’s “Investments” in Haiti
Sandra Wisner, senior staff attorney for the Institute for Justice and Democracy in Haiti, thinks it’s time the international community acknowledged its role in creating these conditions on the ground. “It needs to take a look at itself,” she told The Real News, “and focus on providing a long-term, rights-based approach to development in the country instead of prioritizing foreign interests.”
The Caracol Industrial Park, where the recent spate of garment worker actions started, is a good case study.
In 2010, after the devastating earthquake, it was decided by foreign actors—the United States and the Inter-America Development Bank—to locate a new garment center in the northeast district, distant from the epicenter. But in the process of building the garment center where they did, Wisner explained, Haitians were dispossessed of valuable fertile land, replacing subsistence farming with a textile industry that exploits cheap labor. A dozen years later, hundreds of farmers and their families are still waiting to get paid for the seizure of their land and the loss of their livelihoods.
“It was slated to provide 65,000 new jobs to the country,” Wisner said of the original plan for the garment center. “But as of two years ago, it had only provided around 14,000 jobs. When the international community comes into the country and decides what development is going to look like, no matter the repercussions for Haitians, there needs to be accountability for that.”
“Where is the accountability for that?” she asks.
Frances Madeson writes about liberation struggles and the arts that inspire them. She is the author of the comic political novel, Cooperative Village. Follow her on Twitter at @FrancesMadeson.
Community members say police burned down the Shada 2 neighborhood in Cap Haitien as retaliation against armed gangs / credit: Twitter/DannyShawCUNY
The assassination of Haitian President Jovenel Moïse didn’t seem to make a difference for the average Haitian.
“We woke up hungry Tuesday,” said Jean Paul, 26, a resident of the sprawling ghetto of Laforcette in Haiti’s second capital, Cap-Haïtien. “Wednesday, we woke up with the same hunger.”
This is how one person, speaking for many, experienced the July 7 assassination of Moïse, a U.S.-backed, neoliberal stooge.
Moïse did not have popular support. In an interview with TeleSUR, political analyst Patrick Mettelus described the widespread feeling across Haiti that foreigners had no right to intervene. “The social movements sought for months and years to remove Moïse from office but never to harm him.” His removal was popularly deemed the historic task of the Haitian people.
Furthermore, many Haitians find it peculiar that the governments most under scrutiny for the assassination have been tasked to lead the investigation. For a media outlet like CNN, it is an afterthought that “members of the U.S. delegation met with rival contenders for the country’s leadership on Sunday.” The U.S. government continuing to appoint itself as the custodian of Haiti’s immediate and long-term future has nothing to do with altruism and everything to do with U.S. economic and geopolitical interests.
David Oxygène, spokesperson of MOLEGHAF (Mouvement de Liberté, Égalité des Haïtiens pour la Fraternité or the Haitian Movement of Liberty, Equality and Fraternity) commented on the contradiction.
“The apprentice is gone, but the master, the boss and teacher are still there,” Oxygène said. “Their illegitimate proxy isn’t there, but the master, U.S. imperialism, is.”
Mtg of Haitian peasant leaders. The masses continue to stand up, march forward & mobilize to overthrow this regime. Jovenel is not there but the PHTK regime still is. “We will never agree with foreign domination, with elections under foreign control & PHTK crimes” #Haiti 🇭🇹 pic.twitter.com/7yGRHRjYcf
Absent from any mainstream analysis focused on palace intrigue and throwing us off the scent of 26 Colombian paramilitaries and DEA agents involved in the murder is what the Haitian people are saying and living.
The power scramble now gives the regime of the Parti Haitien Tèt Kale (The Baldheaded Party or PHTK) carte blanche to persecute any of their political enemies. Demonstrations against PHTK’s state and paramilitary violence were planned for July 7 and 8, which was designed to culminate in a protest against the PHTK on July 11, where diverse social actors would have taken back the momentum and the streets. All of these actions were cancelled and postponed once Moïse was assassinated because of fears of state repression.
Organizer Pierre Chanel: devaluing a ppl’s currency damages our economy & self-esteem. An incompetent state isn’t just responsible for ongoing massacres & political assassinations but for hunger & inflation. The #Haitian goud is now 104 for 1 US dollar. #Haiti 🇭🇹 pic.twitter.com/fLRBWVEfGK
Mainstream headlines predictably obfuscate, engaging in racist tropes and sensationalism. As the sentiment Jean Paul expressed, in the last week, nothing objectively changed in the lives of the millions of workers, peasants, and the under- and unemployed across Haiti. The Haitian currency is highly devalued. One U.S. dollar converts into 94.69 gourdes. Gasoline scarcity causes serpentine queues and a black market price of $10 dollars per gallon. Millions of Haitians wake up hungry every day. Foreign-owned sweatshops and giant plantations, like the Savanne Diane, continue to produce for export, paying Haitian workers an average wage of $4 a day.
Youth from the forgotten #Haiti explains how he survived the everyday violence of a turf war between Bannan and Chada. 8 bullets later he is still here 🇭🇹 pic.twitter.com/v8P780xzKs
Gangs and paramilitary units have been involved in a pitched turf war, killing hundreds of Haitians while displacing thousands. While Jimmy “Barbecue” Cherezier, a strongman from Port-au-Prince ghettos Delma 6 and Lasaline, has shifted his rhetoric as of late, innocent families continue to be trapped in neighborhood feuds. For a deeper examination of the role of Barbecue and the heavily armed G-9, or the Confederation of Nine Gangs, Democracy Now hosted a debate on July 8. Mintpress News pressed about the potential of the 3-million-strong lumpen proletariat (those members of the working class who are unable to sell their labor for wages) to organize themselves against their class enemy.
No Further U.S./UN/OAS Intervention in Haiti
The slogan, “no foreign intervention in Haiti,” is misleading. Haiti is a neocolony. Foreign intervention is everywhere in Haitian society. Now, U.S. imperialism and their junior partners are attempting to use this power vacuum to launch yet another invasion of Haiti.
Mainstream outlets have shown images of Haitians asking for help outside the U.S. embassy in Port-au-Prince. How did a proud, dignified people—an example of self-determination for the world—get reduced to dreaming of a visa to escape their country’s woes? Only a thorough examination of the neocolonial model and all of its far-reaching tentacles of economic, political, diplomatic, military, educational and psychological domination can begin to address this question.
Walter Rodney’s analysis in the “Politics of the African Ruling Class,” (Black World View, 1976) offers an introduction to Haiti’s subservient position today:
“They [the dependent countries] were brought into the world economy as fractions during the colonial period. They have not yet transcended this state of affairs. And, therefore it follows that they have not yet attained the stage where we can talk about national economies.”
The Western media is expert in ignoring this history of foreign repression and resistance. Instead, it presents Haiti as an isolated basketcase.
A NACLA article by Haitian scholar and activist Mamyrah Dougé-Prosper and professor and organizer Mark Schuller offers insights into how to support a people’s agenda. The Commission de Recherche pour une Solution Haïtienne à la Crise is a coalition warning of another U.S. intervention and fighting for a “sali piblik,” or a Haitian solution.
In the protracted national liberation struggle, the Haitian people must have the last word. As David Oxygène said, “We are standing up, marching forward and mobilizing to overthrow this regime. Jovenel is not there, but the PHTK regime is still there. MOLEGHAF will never agree with foreign domination, with elections under foreign control, PHTK crimes with or without Jovenel. Imperialism ate him up and threw him away. No longer needing him, they discarded him. MOLEGHAF continues the battle against the imperialists and neocolonialism. The struggle continues! Stronger! Long live the Haitian revolution!”
Danny Shaw is a professor of Caribbean and Latin American Studies at the City University of New York. He frequently travels to Haiti to stay with the mass anti-imperialist movement. A Senior Research Fellow at the Center on Hemispheric Affairs, Danny is fluent in Haitian Kreyol, Spanish, Portuguese and Cape Verdean Kriolu. He has reported for Toward Freedom on Haiti and he recently wrote a book review.
A protest took place November 25, 2021, denouncing violence against women in Santo Domingo, the capital of the Dominican Republic. Dominican leftist, feminist, anti-racist and Haitian immigrant community organizations participated in the march under the slogan “Haitian Lives Matter” and confronted the government’s immigration policy / credit: Vladimir Fuentes
Correction: The definition of Haitians of Dominican descent has been clarified. The length of the constructed portion of the border fence has been corrected. The name that Dominican officials had given for a victim has been updated, based on newly obtained information.
Whenever Malena goes to work or heads out to study, she tries to leave her home very early and return after dark. The 33-year-old mother of five does so for fear of being detained by the Dominican Republic’s immigration agents, even though she is Dominican.
Born and raised in a batey, a settlement around a sugar mill in the San Pedro de Macorís province, Malena is the daughter of Haitian sugar cane workers who arrived in the Dominican Republic in the 1970s, during the U.S.-backed Dominican dictatorship of Joaquin Balaguer.
Malena now lives in La Romana, also in the eastern part of the country. She has three sisters, two of whom have an identification card, acquired through a regularization plan for foreigners. Meanwhile, she and her other sister don’t have any documents. Close encounters with immigration authorities are normal.
“On a trip to the capital, Migration [officers] stopped the bus,” Malena recounted. “They said to a young man: ‘Papers, moreno!’ And since he only had a Haitian ID card, they took him off the bus. They only look for Black people. Luckily, they didn’t look at me. Sometimes by WhatsApp, I’m warned not to pass through some place because Migration is there. It’s always a danger.”
Malena and her sisters are some of the more than 200,000 people affected in the last 10 years by Constitutional Court ruling 168-13, according to estimates of the UN High Commissioner for Refugees. This ruling deprived Dominicans of Haitian descent who had been born after 1929 of their citizenship. As such, the impacts of statelessness are rampant.
“My children have no papers,” Malena said. “Without papers, you can’t have health insurance. You can’t have a good job. I had to repeat 8th grade because I couldn’t take the national test. The same thing happened to my son.”
A Dominican soldier stands by a border wall the Dominican Republic built to keep out Haitian migrants / credit: La Prensa Latina
Mass Deportations
Since 2021, the government of Luis Abinader has been promoting a campaign of mass deportations of the Haitian immigrant community. This also affects Dominicans of Haitian descent. Those are people who were born in the Dominican Republic, have Haitian parents or grandparents, and often are stateless, as in Malena’s case. The head of the General Directorate of Migration, Venancio Alcántara, declared recently that between August and April, more than 200,000 Haitians had been deported. “A record in the history of this institution.”
This statistic shows its true dimensions when contrasted with the size of the Haitian migrant community and the population of Dominicans of Haitian descent. Although no recent official figures exist, Dominican Ambassador to Spain Juan Bolívar wrote an opinion piece in June that estimated both populations, when counted together, at less than 900,000 people, or about 8 percent of the country’s population of 10.6 million. Bolívar’s estimation is based on the 2017 National Immigrant Survey, conducted by the National Statistics Office.
That means 22 percent of Haitians had been deported between August and April.
This is why Dominican and Haitian organizations have warned of the danger that the mass deportation campaign could turn into a process of open ethnic cleansing and consolidate an apartheid regime, as previously reported in Toward Freedom.
The red dot indicates the location of the border towns of Anse-A-Pitres in Haiti and Pedernales in the Dominican Republic / source: Google Maps
Extortions, Theft and Violence at the Border
One of the flagship projects of the Dominican government is the expansion of a border fence. Previous governments built the first 23 kilometers (14 miles). Now, fence construction is continuing, so it can cover 164 kilometers (101 miles). The Abinader government insists in forums, such as the United Nations, on the need for the “international community” to militarily occupy and “pacify” Haiti, complaining about the “burden” the neighboring country represents for the Dominican Republic.
However, the violence of the Dominican state has crossed the border into Haiti.
On March 19, members of the Dominican military attacked the Haitian border village of Tilory in the north, killing two people—Guerrier Kiki and Joseph Irano—and wounding others in their attempt to suppress a protest. According to a statement signed by Dominican and Haitian organizations, the Dominican military regularly engages in extortion and theft, including the seizure of motorcycles and other property, which led to the protest.
This is not the only recent cross-border incident. On August 5, an agent of the Dominican Directorate General of Customs (DGA) shot and killed 23-year-old Haitian, Irmmcher Cherenfant, at the border crossing between Pedernales and Anse-A-Pitres, in the southern end of the north-to-south Dominican-Haitian border. Dominican officials identified Cherenfant as Georges Clairinoir. The DGA and the Dominican Ministry of Defense justified Cherenfant’s killing as an instance of self-defense. Dominican social organizations questioned this version, pointing out contradictions in the official communiqués.
A human rights defender from Anse-A-Pitres who spoke with witnesses said the conflict began when the victim refused to pay a customs guard to be allowed to transport a power generator purchased in the Dominican Republic. After Cherenfant was killed, a struggle ensued, in which the guard was disarmed by Haitians. Subsequently, the Dominican military fired weapons of war indiscriminately into Haitian territory, injuring two people. The human rights defender, who works for a local organization, asked not to be identified for security reasons.
The Dominican government paid a compensation of 400,000 pesos (approximately $7,200) to Cherenfant’s wife the following week. But when the community mobilized on August 12 against military violence and in memory of the victim, the Dominican military threatened some of the protest organizers that they would be prohibited from entering Dominican territory.
A protest held in 2022 Anse-A-Pitres, Haiti after a Dominican customs guard killed a Haitian / credit: Jean Aicard Pierre
‘A Vibrant Democracy’
U.S. Deputy Secretary of State Wendy Sherman visited Santo Domingo on April 12 and met with Abinader. According to State Department spokesperson Vedant Patel, they discussed their “deep ties” and “shared democratic values,” as well as regional security issues, including the “urgent situation in Haiti.”
During her visit, Sherman recorded a video message in the colonial zone of Santo Domingo, extolling the country as a tourist attraction and calling the political regime a “vibrant and energetic democracy… a strong and exceptional partner with the United States of America.”
In her tour of the colonial zone, Sherman can be seen escorted by the mayor of the National District, Carolina Mejia, a member of the ruling Modern Revolutionary Party (PRM), and by Kin Sánchez, a guide of the Tourism Cluster. Significantly, Sánchez was part of a mob led by the neo-fascist organization, Antigua Orden Dominicana, which attacked and shouted racist slogans against a cultural activity held on October 12 that was intended to commemorate Indigenous resistance. The complicity of the National Police caused nationwide repercussions.
After Sherman’s visit, Republican U.S. Congressmember Maria Elvira Salazar and Democratic U.S. Congressmember Adriano Espaillat, announced the U.S. State Department would withdraw a November 19 travel alert warning Black tourists of racial profiling by Dominican immigration authorities. The April 17 travel advisory only mentions risks related to criminality. Dominican Tourism Minister David Collado welcomed the move as a “very positive and appropriate” measure, describing the U.S. as a “strategic partner.”
Meanwhile, two days after Sherman’s visit, Haitian driver Louis Charleson was shot and killed by a military officer in the Dominican border town of Jimaní following a traffic altercation. A young Haitian man was wounded, too. The Haitian Support Group for Returnees and Refugees (GARR) denounced the impunity that covers the Dominican military and police in the border area. The agent who murdered Irmmcher Cherenfant last year in Pedernales continues to hold the same position at the Directorate General of Customs. He has not been dismissed or prosecuted.
“As always, Dominican officials present the simplistic argument of self-defense to comfort the offending soldiers with impunity,” GARR stated.
Vladimir Fuentes is the pen name of a freelance journalist based in the Dominican Republic.
