Revisiting Haiti in the company of “Black Spartacus”

 Black Spartacus is one of the monikers given to Toussaint Louverture (1743? -1803).  He was also labeled a Black Jacobin and even portrayed as a Black Napoléon.  “Toussaint is the first black superhero of modern age” according to Sudhir Hazareesingh[1] who wrote an impressive and intelligently detailed biography of a man who, since his death in 1803 has been rediscovered or reinvented by many of his biographers.  If Toussaint was a de facto Jacobin and displayed Napoleonic military and administrative talents, he was not a Black Spartacus.  Although born a slave in Saint Domingue, now Haiti, Toussaint embarked on his slave emancipation and revolutionary, military and political career as a free French man.  During his short but multifaceted career, Toussaint endorsed the values of the French revolution and became its only Black general-in-chef and colony governor. 

In 1802, Toussaint was taken prisoner by the order of First Consul Napoléon Bonaparte and shipped to France where he died in a damp prison cell in 1803.  Coincidentally, Toussaint and another native of Saint Domingue, General Thomas Alexandre Dumas, who fought on European battle-fields and in Egypt, were the two highest ranking Black officers of the French revolutionary army.  Like Toussaint, Dumas was punished by Bonaparte.  He was the father of novelist Alexandre Dumas.

Bonaparte intended to re-establish slavery in Saint Domingue, but the expeditionary force he had sent was defeated by both widespread revolts and troops led by Toussaint’s former underlings.  Subsequently, the French were either expelled or murdered.  In 1804 Haiti was born and the colony became the first Black independent country in the Western Hemisphere.  In the 19^th and 20^th centuries, Toussaint became an icon of American abolitionists, a shining star for Cuban anti-imperialists and African anti-colonialists, a nation builder for Caribbean islanders and a bona fide republican for many French politicians.

                                                                                   Toussaint?

My interest in Haiti’s history and independence heroes dates back to the 1980s when I worked in Cap Haitien, Toussaint’s stomping ground in the northern part of the island.  Haiti was my second posting with the United Nations.  The first was Bolivia, a hardship duty station at the time.  During the two years I spent in la Paz, I lived through four violent coups d’états and finally I was evacuated with other expatriates in an armed convoy.  In comparison, the Caribbean island of Haiti looked like a paradise with a touch of mystery.  Haiti’s convoluted history and shadowy customs fascinated me and increased my eagerness to work there.  Before the Internet, Google and Wikipedia, I took a crash course on Haiti’s culture with Graham Greene’s and Alejo Carpentier’s novels.  The Comedians and The Kingdom of This World (El Reino de este mundo) introduced me to the mysterious voodoo cult, zombies, the string of blood-thirsty dictators who impoverished the country, the French based-Créole language and the addictive méringue music (compas).   

I landed in the capital Port-au-Prince in 1980.  Haiti’s sinister despot Francois Duvalier alias Papa Doc had been succeeded by his indolent and inept son Jean-Claude, appropriately nicknamed Baby Doc.  The United States, France, Canada, the World Bank and other donors like the UN had high hopes in the young leader and money was pouring in to reform the miserably poor and dysfunctional country and kick start its ravaged economy.  There was an elated feeling in Petionville, the elite suburb overlooking the slums of Port au Prince.  Even the infamous Tontons Macoutes, Papa Doc’s feared blue denim clad voodoo squads were a less ubiquitous sight in the streets. 

Petionville’s hotels were busy, full of expatriates from western countries racing to their offices in downtown Port au Prince in their shiny Toyotas and Land Rovers.  We quickly mixed with the well-traveled Haitian elite and I was charmed by its easy-going lifestyle, curiosity and level of sophistication.  In retrospect, after reading Toussaint’s biography, this 1980s urban scene resembled that of the late 18^th century when the white and mulattoes Haitians sat on top of the social ladder served by armies of slaves.  The rich mulattoes were also slave owners.  Saint Domingue was the gem of the French colonies and the English coveted its riches and invaded parts of it during the revolutionary decade.

As a Graham Greene fan, I paid a visit to The Comedians’ iconic watering hole, the Hotel Oloffson.  The old-world gingerbread house had become an expatriate hang-out where the gossip journalist Aubelin Jolicoeur held court.  Greene created the Petit Pierre character after him.  Having survived the 2010 earthquake and Port au Prince’s subsequent decline, the Oloffson is still open for business.  I checked Tripadvisor where the comments are poor: tattered and not worth the money; however, its tired elegance made its charm, at least for me. 

As an exploration geologist, my job was to assess the gold potential of the northern part of the country and historic Cap Haïtien became my duty station for four years.  After reading Carpentier’s novel, I was somewhat apprehensive to work in the north, a region which had been the location of an orgy of violence, bloody voodoo sacrifices, ruthless battles and had a tradition of difficult race relationship.  Although Toussaint was cherished as the father of the new nation, the popular heroes were his merciless generals Jean-Jacques Dessalines and Henri Christophe.  From oppressed both became heartless oppressors.  Oppression is one of the themes of Carpentier’s novel.  After getting rid of the French, Dessalines names himself emperor of Haiti but was shortly murdered by his jealous subordinates.  Haiti was subsequently split in two and Henri Christophe grabbed the northern part and proclaimed himself of King of Haiti and defender of the faith; he also established a peerage to boot.  During his unpopular ten-year reign[2], he restored slavery all but in name and forced labor was used to build his vanity projects south of Cap Haitien.  His ostentatious Sans-Soucis palace in Milot was partly destroyed by an earthquake in 1843 but the colossal stone fortress Citadelle Laferrière resisted and still towers above Milot.  Both were listed as UNESCO heritage sites when I was in Cap Haitien.

My office was located in a decrepit gingerbread house in the historic part of Cap Haitien.  I lived in a lovely colonial house on the Rival beach a few kilometers away from the town.  Without knowing it at the time, I was living in Toussaint’s territory.  The house was part of the ruined complex of a colonial habitation, or plantation where sugar was produced by slave labor.  Rival beach was protected by a string of French colonial forts built in the mid-1700s.  I learned windsurfing and snorkeling and enjoyed diving among the tens of canons laying at the bottom of the shallow bay.  The guns had not attracted much interest, but I was fascinated by them, imagining all sort of pirate stories.  I also learned to dance the mérengue (with abandon), drink rum punch (often with lack of restraint) and calculate ore reserves (with pain and success) in this order!!! 

                                                                                 Rival Beach now

Although, I enjoyed plenty of fun and games, my work was very stimulating and rewarding.  Baby Doc had initiated a seemingly peaceful régime and the people were breathing in relief.  There was a sense of optimism even in the northern part of Haiti which had witnessed terrible hardship during its modern history.  Our gold exploration project in Morne Bossa near Milot was doing very well and the government anticipated private investment to develop a medium sized gold mine.  Sadly, this work came to nothing: some US$ 20 m were spent on the deposit and it is still idle.  Investment came and went with development hampered by successive regime changes, corruption and unrest.  A moral tale for Haiti as a whole.  Baby Doc and his family fled to France in 1985 after allegedly embezzling 80% of all international aid to finance his and his wife’s[3] lifestyle. 

As the conscience of slave emancipation, Toussaint gained the catchy moniker of Black Spartacus.  True, he shared many of the Thracian slave’s attributes, but he was a stateman in his own right.  In my view and more recently, by his efforts towards post-apartheid reconciliation, Nelson Mandela bears a resemblance to Toussaint Louverture. To figure out the current situation in Haiti, I checked the U.S. government travel advisory.  It clearly warns potential visitors: “Do not travel due to crimes, civil unrest, kidnapping and Covid-19”.  It cannot be worse than this! A mess even too big for Mandela to fix!  The chaos started by Toussaint’s successors soon after his departure from island.

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[1] Black Spartacus, The Epic life of Toussaint Louverture. Farrar, Straus and Giroux. NY, 2020

[2] Debilitated and fearing a coup d’état against him, he committed suicide in 1820.

[3] Michèle Bennett was a descendant of King Christophe, excess runs in the family!