If
the Dominican Republic had decided in 2013 to
nationalize its industries, announcing a deadline of
Jun. 17, 2015 for the expropriation of all foreign-owned
enterprises on its side of the island, it is unlikely
that the U.S. would throw its hands up and say nothing
could be done because the DR was a sovereign country. We
know it is unlikely, because the U.S. overthrew the
president on the other side of the island in 1991 and in
2004 for trying to raise the minimum wage. More likely,
there would be a regime change in the DR and a more
friendly government would be put in place, to much
celebration from U.S. elites and media.
But when a court in the DR pronounced "La
Sentencia" in 2013, stripping Dominicans – people
born in the DR to undocumented Haitian parents – of
citizenship, and the Dominican Congress established a
Jun. 17, 2015 deadline for these hundreds of thousands
of Dominicans of Haitian descent to establish residency
by navigating a bureaucratic labyrinth of unbelievable
complexity, U.S. officials mumbled their concern. Since
June, tens of thousands of Dominicans of Haitian descent
have left the DR. Greg Grandin,
writing in
The Nation,
has called it a "slow-motion, undercover pogrom." They
have left under threat of violence. They have accepted
"voluntary" deportation because their only alternative
was involuntary deportation. They are living in camps on
the border between Haiti and the DR, not unlike the
camps where hundreds of thousands of people were forced
to live after the 2010 earthquake in Haiti.
Displaced people living in camps have reached the
culmination of a process that renders them without power
or protection. The natural disaster of the earthquake
was prolonged and made vastly more deadly by Haiti's
lack of sovereignty. This completely engineered disaster
of deportation shows how Haiti's lack of sovereignty is
intertwined with the DR's.
Now that North American media have begun to publish on
the deportations, many of them discuss Haiti's invasion
of the DR in 1822. Historian Anna Ellner
helps make sense of this 19th
century history, and reveals it to be
completely distorted in most accounts. Ellner (whose
excellent blog post was linked by Grandin, who has also
helped maintain a focus on this issue) presents a
different history, one in which Haiti and the DR were
"siblings in a struggle for freedom."
If the two countries were siblings in a struggle for
freedom, it was a struggle against domination by the
U.S.. The U.S. invaded and occupied Haiti from
1915-1934, and the DR from 1916-1924. The U.S. supported
the Duvalier dictatorships that ruled Haiti from
1957-1986, and the Trujillo dictatorship that ruled the
DR from 1930-1961. One of Trujillo's most notorious acts
was the "Parsley massacre" of 1937, a genocidal campaign
against Haitians in the DR. The word "parsley" in
Spanish is perejil,
and prospective victims of the massacre would be made to
pronounce the word. If they pronounced it with a Haitian
accent, they were killed.
Trujillo's Parsley massacre was written about in
Dominican-American writer Junot Diaz's novel
The Brief Wondrous
Life of Oscar Wao, and in Haitian-American writer
Edwidge Danticat's novel
The Farming of
Bones. Diaz and Danticat have been writing and
speaking out about the
deportations, both in 2013 and in recent
months. In June, Danticat called it "a humanitarian
crisis ready to happen." Diaz asked: “What happens when
a government basically green-lights your most primitive,
fucked up xenophobia?”
Mark Philips,
writing from the border last
month, describes what "voluntary deportation"
is looking like:
“On the DR side of the border, we observed a
cargo truck — previously used to transport plantains —
pull up alongside one of the full school buses parked
nearby. We learned that the bus driver refused to
continue to Haiti and negotiated to have the cargo truck
carry the passengers the rest of the way to
Port-de-Paix, in the north of Haiti. The steel, open-air
truck box was dirty, smaller than the school bus and not
designed for carrying people, especially for hours in
the hot sun. Passengers yelled at the driver, saying
they were being treated like animals. A few women with
babies on their laps were then allowed to sit in the
front of the truck with the driver. All others,
including several small children, had to stand or sit on
their luggage in the back of the truck’s dusty steel
box. Several individuals had to hang off the sides of
the truck.
“This ride, as it turns out, was not provided by
the DR government. Nor was it free. Passengers told us
they paid the equivalent of up to $60, a large sum for
impoverished workers in the DR. To put it in
perspective, the next day the Haitian government pledged
relief funds to help those passing through the town of
Belladère that
work out to 110 Haitian gourdes,
or $2.15 per person.”
As for the humanitarian crisis "ready to happen"
in June:
it has begun to unfold
in the camps on the border.
U.S. influence over all of this is extremely
concrete - Todd Miller reported
in the Nation in 2013
that U.S. border agents work at the border and train
Dominican border agents.
North American journalists that have managed to
present simplistic and inaccurate versions of the 19th
century Haiti-DR relations were not, apparently, able to
dig up the much more recent and relevant history of the
destabilization of Haiti's elected government over a
period of years, starting in 2001, by paramilitary
forces operating from safety in the Dominican Republic,
culminating in an invasion that killed thousands and
overthrew the Haitian government in 2004. That
cross-border operation, too, could not have taken place
without U.S. sanction and assistance.
Haiti is not ruled by Haitians and does not have
the power to help the deportees any more than it had the
power to help those displaced by the earthquake. Its
government is effectively under the control of the donor
community, the U.S., and the UN, and its president is
too focused on an electoral crisis,
in which he is implicated,
to worry about an unfolding humanitarian crisis on the
border.
On the other hand, the many tendrils of influence
that the U.S. has on the island of Hispaniola shared by
Haiti and the DR give a special responsibility to North
American friends of those countries.
An unusual statement came from
former Peace Corps volunteers calling for the
suspension of military aid to the DR. Many have pointed
out that the DR's economy depends on tourism.
Possibilities for campaigns abound. Greg Grandin pointed
out that the international attention focused on the
issue in recent months slowed the process down. With
more work, it could be stopped.
This
article was originally published by teleSUR. Justin
Podur is a writer and college professor based in
Toronto, Canada. |