Bearing Witness
excerpted from the book
Pathologies of Power
Health, Human Rights, and the
New War on the Poor
by Paul Farmer
University of California Press,
2005, paperback
p41
The theologian Leonardo Boff, commenting on one of these texts,
observes that [liberation theology] "moves immediately to
the structural analysis of these forces and denounces the systems,
structures, and mechanisms that 'create a situation where the
rich get richer at the expense of the poor, who get even poorer."
p51
Aviva Chomsky, "'The Threat of a Good Example': Health and
Revolution in Cuba"
"The U.S. travel ban and the distorted
portrayal of Cuba in both popular and scholarly media ensure that
the majority of North Americans do not learn that a poor, Third
World country, gripped by economic crisis, and under constant
attack from the most powerful nation in the world, is still able
to achieve health standards higher than those in the capital of
that powerful nation, Washington, D.C."
p79
Harvard historian John Coatsworth
"In Cuba, Elián will have
his father and the rest of his immediate family, a decent standard
of living, free public education through university, cradle to
grave medical care, and a relatively crime-free environment. His
life expectancy will be about what he could expect in Miami (73
years). His chances of getting into college will be a bit lower.
The likelihood of being assaulted, robbed, or murdered substantially
less.
In short, Elián's chances in Fidel
Castro's Cuba appear to be infinitely better than in most of the
developing world. Better than in most places-like Haiti, for example-to
which U.S. authorities routinely deport undocumented immigrants
and their children. In Haiti, one out of eight children dies before
the age of and nearly half have no school to go to. Malnutrition
and violence are endemic and male life expectancy at birth is
51 years."
p80
... landmark human rights trials have taken place recently in
Haiti, a first. The most important of these occurred in GonaIves,
once famous as the place where Haiti's declaration of independence
was signed, after the slaves' decisive 1803 victory over Napoleon's
forces. The decrepit seaport later became famous-during the same
military dictatorship that persecuted Yolande Jean-for accepting
a shipload of toxic waste that had originated in Philadelphia.
The City of Brotherly Love had a hard time ridding itself of its
glowing dreck, and so the garbage sailed the high seas for over
a year, until the right combination of bribes and lawlessness
brought it to port not far from a dusty Haitian slum called Raboteau.
Raboteau, being a poor neighborhood of
fishermen and scrap dealers, was of course a stronghold of Aristide
supporters. Shortly after the coup of September 30, 1991-the event
that led Yolande Jean and hundreds of thousands to flee their
homes-the citizenry of Raboteau organized peaceful protests. Thousands
marched in the unpaved streets. The marchers were not happy about
the toxic refuse from Philadelphia, not a bit. But their greatest
grievance was the overthrow of their country's first democratically
elected government.
During the first years of military rule,
groups organized themselves as best they could against the growing
power of paramilitary bands. By 1994, much of this resistance
had been pushed underground, but activists in Raboteau continued
to confront the dictatorship publicly. As Cohn Granderson, then
head of the United Nations/Organization of American States human
rights mission to Haiti testified, Raboteau kept the flame of
democracy burning for the rest of Haiti. The army, aware of the
practical and symbolic importance of the flame, was determined
to extinguish it. On April 18, 1994, the army sought to arrest
the young leadership of
the Raboteau resistance. Others got in
the way and paid the price: one elderly blind man was badly beaten
and died the next day. This, however, was said to be but a "rehearsal"
for the real strike that was to come. The massacre perpetrated
in the ensuing days was orchestrated by high-ranking officers
in the Haitian army:
The main attack started before dawn on
April 22. Army troops and paramilitaries approached Raboteau from
several angles and started shooting. They charged into houses,
breaking down doors, stealing and destroying possessions. They
terrorized the occupants. Young and old, men, women, and children
were threatened, beaten, forced to lie in open sewers and arrested.
The onslaught forced many to take the familiar route to the harbor,
but this time an armed ambush awaited them. Many were killed;
some were wounded, on the beach, in the water, and in boats. Some
were arrested, imprisoned, and tortured. One girl shot in the
leg had to flee the hospital the next day, and another hospital
a few days later when soldiers came looking for her.
The death toll is hard to ascertain, for
many of the bodies were washed out to sea; others, buried in shallow
graves, were disinterred and consumed by pigs and dogs. But local
estimates went no lower than dozens. Finding evidence was impossible
until well after the military high command left Haiti in October
1994. The Aristide government-following the examples of South
Africa, Chile, and Argentina-then formed a "truth commission,"
and Raboteau was one of its major investigations. Even given the
lost year between crime and investigation, the prosecution was
able to prepare dossiers-" sufficiently documented to present
to the jury"- on eight of the people killed that day. The
prosecution brought these charges not only against the local perpetrators-twenty-two
soldiers and paramilitary-but also against their commanders. Thirty-seven,
including the entire high command of the Haitian army, were tried
in absentia.
In a surprising and unprecedented example
of comeuppance, the members of the military and paramilitary who
had conducted the raid were brought to trial in the city of GonaIves
itself. It took five years of pre-trial proceedings before the
trial commenced. The problem was not that people were afraid to
testify. Indeed, thirty-four eyewitnesses offered, during the
course of the trial, "highly consistent [accounts], corroborated
by expert testimony." Rather, the problem was that the Haitian
judicial system had all but collapsed, as had its physical infrastructure,
during the course of the Duvalier and military dictatorships.
"The old GonaIves courthouse had no electricity, telephone,
or toilet. During slow trials one could observe the appeals court
through the floorboards. "
The trial took six weeks, from September
z8 to November To, woo, and was covered by the local radio and
television. There was enormous interest because nothing of the
sort had ever happened before in Haiti. The jury delivered guilty
verdicts for sixteen of the twenty-two accused and convicted,
in absentia, all members of the Haitian high command, including
many who had benefited from training in the United States. From
their hiding places in the United States, Panama, and the Dominican
Republic, the self-promoted generals and colonels were nonetheless
a palpable presence in GonaIves, like the rank dust that hangs
over the city most of the time.
The process of collecting evidence was
slow, certainly, and the trial was at times raucous; but local
and international jurisprudence experts agreed that it was a marvelously
successful strike against impunity. All agreed that the trial
rose to international standards and was fundamentally fair to
victims and defendants alike. Lawyer Brian Concannon, one of the
leading figures at the trial, argued that "the Raboteau trial
should also serve as a model, and an inspiration, for efforts
to combat impunity around the world. The dedication of the victims,
and the Haitian government's persistence and innovation in trying
new approaches, are transferable to many situations."
In convicting the high command, the trial
also inculpated by association their benefactors abroad. The transnational
mechanisms of structural violence were exposed clearly. Perhaps
for this reason, as much as any other, the Raboteau trial went
largely unnoticed in the U.S. and foreign press, which instead
ran story after story about how hopeless Haiti's judicial and
police systems were-as if decades of corruption and U.S. pressure
to incorporate former soldiers into the police force could be
erased in a few years. (At the same time, serious reform efforts
were implemented: one of Aristide's first moves on returning to
Haiti was to disband the army and to integrate the police force
with women.)
And another note of caution was sounded
by the United Nations Independent Expert on Haiti. Adama Dieng
noted that the "Haitian justice system must continue to pursue
those convicted in absentia" and called on "countries
where the fugitives may be found, especially Panama, the United
States, Honduras, and the Dominican Republic, [to] cooperate with
Haitian authorities to arrest and extradite them."
Alas, these countries did not cooperate
willingly with Haitian authorities. Haiti was increasingly isolated
from other Latin American countries that were harboring the coup-prone
generals, sometimes at the behest of the United States. The United
States refused to release a large cache of 160,000 pages of relevant
information, even though the Haitian government, a host of human
rights groups, and members of the U.S. Congress had called on
the United States to see these documents returned to Haiti. After
a decade spent studying twenty "truth commissions" around
the world, Priscilla Hayner observes that "the Haitian case
is perhaps the worst example of a foreign power blocking a state's
access to its own truth." Her study is worth citing at length:
When U.S. forces invaded Haiti in the
fall of 1994, they drove trucks straight to the offices of the
armed forces and the brutal paramilitary group, the Front for
Haitian Advancement and Progress (FRAPH), hauling away documents,
photos, videos, and other material that contained extensive evidence
of the egregious abuses of these forces, including gruesome "trophy
photos" of FRAPH victims. Some foreign rights advocates in
Haiti who came into possession of some of this material also handed
it over to U.S. troops, relieved that it would be in safer hands.
"There wasn't a photocopier working in the entire country,
so you couldn't make copies of things, and in the chaos of the
moment nowhere else was secure," one person told me. But
everyone assumed the material would be returned to Haiti when
things settled down. On the contrary, none of these approximately
160,000 pages of documents, photographs, videotapes, or audiotapes
have been released by the United States back to the country to
which / they belong. They remain in U.S. government hands, under
the control of the Department of Defense. The assumed reason for
this intransigence is not flattering: the United States provided
direct support to some of those directly implicated in abuses,
paying key FRAPH leaders as intelligence sources, and these documents
would almost certainly reveal these connections and the complicity
of the U.S. government in supporting known thugs. The United States
eventually offered to return the documents only if the Haitian
government would agree to restrictions on the use of the material,
and after certain portions were blacked out, but the Haitians
refused j these conditions. Despite formal requests to the U.S.
government for access to the documents, the Haitian truth commission
completed its work, and number of important trials have gone forward,
without the benefit of any of this damning documentary evidence.
The Haitian government was anxious to
obtain these files and also to prevent the generals and colonels
from preparing coups from abroad. A long legal struggle, with
broad international grassroots support, led to recovery of the
documents in January zoo r. In addition, as the result of pressure
from Haiti and others, including Amnesty International-U. S. A.,
two members of the high command have been ordered deported from
the United States and are in INS custody. Colonels Hebert Valmond,
the head of intelligence in the high command, and Carl Dorélien,
head of personnel, were both convicted of murder in the Raboteau
case. They fled to Florida, apparently a haven from democracy,
when constitutional rule was restored in Haiti. Both are appealing
recent deportation orders. Emmanuel "Toto" Constant,
the founder of FRAPH, is still living as a free man in Queens,
New York, despite a 1995 deportation order. U.S. officials admit
that Constant was paid by the CIA and discussed his paramilitary
activities with the agency. He now remains under an order of deportation,
although it has been delayed under State Department advisement.
The Haitian government is concerned about
such individuals, and with good reason. In the past several months,
former Haitian military officers have staged coup attempts from
the Dominican Republic and perhaps from other countries. In July
zoo ii, five police officers were killed in the line of duty in
the town closest to our clinic. On December 17, 2001, a more ambitious
effort succeeded in penetrating the presidential palace and in
assaulting Aristide's residence. And even when they fall short
of their mission, such attempts are not wholly unsuccessful, since
their goal is to complement "political" efforts to discredit
and destabilize the elected government.
The main political opposition is a motley
group called, without irony, the "Convergence Democratique."
Although it consists mostly of right-wingers, if leadership is
all over the map politically." The Convergence is, however,
united in its unswerving opposition to Aristide and to the right
of the poor majority to have a say in Haiti's affairs. The level
of support for those who came to constitute the Convergence, as
gauged by polls, has run between 4 and 12 percent." (Remember,
Aristide won 93 percent of the vote in the November 2000 elections.)
It is the "intelligentsia" of the Convergence who come
up with cockamamie stories about how each coup against Aristide
is really a sham authored by himself, accusations that echo their
comments (the classe politique includes the same cast of characters
as in previous decades) regarding the attempts on Aristide's life
in the 1980s.
Although the Convergence has scant popular
support within Haiti, it clearly has support in-Washington. The
Convergence is funded, at least in part, by the U.S. International
Republican Institute, which is associated, to no one's surprise,
with the U.S. Republican Party and obtains funding from Congress
through the National Endowment for Democracy. In this sense, then,
Haitians do experience impunity, but it comes from the U.S. government,
not from their own.
The Haitian government has recently joined
Cuba as one of the only republics in the hemisphere under a U.S.
aid embargo. Trumped-up charges regarding the proper methods of
tallying ballots during the May woo legislative elections are
the avowed reason for this embargo, which extends even to loans
already approved for improving health care and education. Ironically,
charges of election irregularities were being leveled against
the Haitian government at the same time as serious allegations
concerning the U.S. electoral process, most notably in Florida,
were being investigated. Are there credible claims, for example,
that Aristide didn't win fair and square? No, the complaints this
time are about the legislative elections that took place in May
woo, months before Aristide was reelected by yet another landslide.
Critics seeking to impugn the elections that delivered a massive
victory for the party associated with Aristide argued that vote
counting was not performed correctly for eight senatorial seats.
So, presto, official foreign aid to Haiti-necessary to rebuild
the ravaged infrastructure-was frozen by fiat.
The Haitian government then followed all
the stipulations of a series of accords advanced by the Organization
of American States in June 2001, the seven senators involved (one
of the seats had already expired, and that election was rerun)
not only agreed to run-offs with their second-place challengers
but also resigned so that new elections could be held. Nevertheless,
the aid embargo remains, suggesting that perhaps the actual reason
it was imposed was not really U.S. concern over local elections.
Those who study patterns of U.S. giving
to Haiti and to other countries would be a bit suspicious. In
the past, the U.S. government had little trouble running hundreds
of millions of dollars through the Duvalier dictatorship. The
United States was unstintingly generous to the post-Duvalier military,
whose spectacular exploits included the torching of Aristide's
church during mass. And even during the leaky, half-hearted embargo
against the military regime that ousted Aristide (and was eventually
found guilty of war crimes), the United States was providing training,
on U.S. soil, to the officers of that very regime.
Suspicions about the real reasons behind
the U.S. aid embargo against Haiti are only fanned when one looks
elsewhere for examples of whether adherence to certain electoral
procedures determines the flow of U.S. aid. Take Pakistan, which
until recently was under a similar embargo, with some justification,
since General Pervez Musharraf came to power in a military coup.
"My personal objective when I got here in August," U.S.
Ambassador Chamberlin said in a November 2001 interview, "was
to work very hard to improve Pakistani-American relations, with
the aim that at the end of my three years here we could lift American
sanctions on Pakistan. I could never have dreamed that we'd have
accomplished so much in my first three months." The reason
for the "accomplishments," of course, is clear: all
the unpleasantries were quickly forgotten as of September 11,
2001, when new uses for Pakistan were found. The hypocrisy behind
trade and aid sanctions has been noted by almost all neutral observers.
How does this hypocrisy play itself out among the poor? The impact
of this aid embargo is far greater in Haiti than on the neighboring
island of Cuba, with its healthy population. Cuban health indices
are better than ever, in spite of the embargo; it's the Cuban
economy that suffers. The current U.S.-sponsored embargo against
Haiti, however, is targeting the most vulnerable population in
the hemisphere. Its impact has been profound, as a report from
the Inter-American Development Bank (IDB) is quick to note. In
a recent report on Haiti, IDB officials write that "overall,
the major factor behind economic stagnation is the withholding
of both foreign grants and loans, associated with the international
community's response to the critical political impasse. These
funds are estimated at over US$500 million."
The IDB should know, for it is among the
institutions punishing Haiti. U.S. Congresswoman Barbara Lee made
the following statement in recent weeks:
"The U.S. has used its veto powers
on the IDB's Board of Directors to stop all loans designated to
Haiti and has chilled funding opportunities at the other financial
institutions, like the World Bank and IMF, pending a resolution
of the political situation in Haiti. This situation is unique
because the loans in question have been approved by the bank's
board of executive directors, and the Haitian Government has ratified
the debt and signed contractual documents.
This veto is particularly disturbing
since the charter of the IDB specifically states that the Bank
shall not intervene in the politics of its member states. The
Bush Administration has decided to leverage political change in
a member country by embargoing loans that the Bank has a contractual
obligation to disburse."
p89
Many of the rural poor whom we see in our clinic are bitter about
the current embargo, which they seem to regard as an attempt to
bring down "their" government. One patient observed
that "every time the Haitians try to organize our country
so that everyone can eat, there is an embargo from the United
States."
p91
... an editorial in the Miami Herald
"Where else in the world does [the
United States] deny sending crucial aid to famished neighbor in
spite of its underdeveloped political system? Haitians are well
aware of Washington's game and are likening its freezing of desperately
needed funds to the U.S. embargo imposed on Haiti after their
1804 revolution made the island the world's first black republic.
Haiti needs help, not unmerited manipulation."
p91
John Womack Jr., Rebellion in Chiapas
"As hard as concerned Americans have
had to strain to understand the Zapatista revolt and its confusing
and sorrowful aftermath, we will have to work harder to understand
Mexican issues in the future. Our problem is not merely the media,
or our notorious inability to learn another language. It is our
entire evasive and mendacious culture, which to the enormous profit
of the megacompanies that feed it makes our selfish decadence
entertaining to us ..."
Pathologies
of Power
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