Thursday, December 9, 2010

December 8th, and Why Martelly?

On Tuesday, election results were announced two hours late by a single official who sat alone at a table prepared for eight. The results? Manigat (grandmotherly former first lady) in the lead, with 31.37 %, Celestin (Preval's chosen successor) in second with 22.48%  and Martelly (popular musicien and badboy) in third with 21.84%. This was very bad news. (If you already know everything that's happening, skip to the bottom for an assessment of it)

The way Haitian elections are suppose to work, if no candidate gets more than 50% of the vote, the top two go on to a second round. In this case, Manigat and Celestin, ostensibly leaving Martelly out in the cold. However, his supporters were having none of it. Celestin a most unpopular man, and the election process was so riddled with corruption, criminal disorganization, ballot stuffing and intimidation that the margin of six-thousand some votes between Celestin and Martelly is negligible and probably fraudulent. Within fifteen minutes of the announcement, Martelly supporters in Petionville (where Martelly spends most of his time and money, and has large support base) were out in the streets, setting up flaming barricades, stopping cars, and breaking windows. Protesters sang political songs from the Aristide-era, inserting Martelly's name in all the appropriate parts.  At least one protester was in a pillaging mood, since he reached into our car and stole the cell phone out of the hands of my friend. From my house I could a half-dozen fires and heard spatters of gunfire throughout the night, although it is unclear who was shooting what.


    By 7:30 in the morning, the protesters had regrouped, and flaming barricades were visible up and down Delmas, the sounds of protesting oppression were clearly audible from my house: cheering, drums, chanting, screaming, the pops of tear gas and the booms of concussion grenades. Around noon we went to Place St. Pierre in Petionville, location of the old electoral office and site of much UN-Martelly tenison.  The UN troops used tear gas to keep the protesters away from the office, but they were releasing it basically next to a camp full of families. People (including children) inserted slices of lime in their noses to help with the pain, others smeared a citrus cream beneath their nostrils. At one point I saw the face of a woman sitting outside her tent transform with suffering as she began to inhale the gas and dove inside her tent. The camp inhabitants report that babies are particularly badly affected with gas and more than one child has passed out for over an hour after a tear gas attack. If the UN had the slightest consideration they would allow the protesters to move a bit closer so that at least the people they were targeting were the people actually demonstrating instead of innocent bystanders.

    From Place St. Pierre I hopped a moto with journalist TD in order to go get a sense of the town.  There were the chard remains of burning tires every few blocks, a tree pulled off the hillside to block the road, groups of protesters wandering through the streets, singing, yelling. Burning tires are an interesting thing: they are a very aggressive yet non-violent form of protest. They are a symbol of violence without requiring any violence itself. The aggression comes from the blaze and the huge amount of thick black smoke they produce. From afar a few tires can make it seem like a whole neighborhood is ablaze. And yet neither people nor property are injured.

        Things had obviously cooled off substantially from the morning, but there were still serious tension spots, like at the electoral office at Delma 41, were UN tanks had blocked off the streets and were having a stand off with hundreds of protesters. The whole thing has a rather theatrical element to it, since the protesters are throwing rocks at people wearing riot gear. Throw rocks, throw tear gas, run, repeat. We continued on our way, driving to ransacked the unpopular INITE (Unity) headquarters which were still smoking from earlier in the day when protesters burned the place down earlier after the security guard fired on them. Here the violence was real: rumor has it that protesters were shot, and in retaliation the whole place was destroyed. On the way back up Delmas we almost got de-moto-ed by some guys who had just set fire to a barricade and surrounded us, asking our driver to give him gasoline. When I said that we were the press (half-true) and that we needed to rush home to write articles and tell the world what was going on here, they were like 'oh, okay, no problem' and used a rod to move one of the tires out of the way so we could run through the black smoke to the other side and speed away.

     That afternoon at home I listened to Martelly's speech on the radio.  It was terribly brief, all he said was that people have the right to peacefully protest, and they should do so until VICTORY!  Kind of encouraging the protests, kind of not assuming responsibility for them.

     My two cents: These protests make perfect sense (and were rather predictable) in light of the past year of mind-numbing incompetence, corruption, negligence, and suffering.  The elections were a sham, and it is unlikely that any country or international authority is going to foot the bill for another try, especially with the obvious incompetence of the electoral counsel.  What I am curious to know is what Martelly means to people, exactly. I mean, why him? As a popular singer and a leader of Carnival, he is associated with positive, non- political aspects of Haitian culture. Having no prior experince with politics means that he is pure, uncorrupted.  But his political message, when its not completely vapid, is rather frighteningly right-wing. He talks about recreating the Haitian army (traditionally used only to suppress its own people), and he uses the motif of red and black, associated with the Duvalier era.  People seem to have forgotten that Martelly was a vocal opponent of Aristide (a widely beloved and now exiled president and 'champion of the poor') and supported both coups.  Its true that the elections are an embarrassment to democracy, and the people's anger and suspicion is completely justified. But they have seized on Martelly as their savoir not for what he is, but for what he is not.  I think they are using the language of politics to express otherwise unheard grievances: the need for work, the need for shelter, the need for respect in the eyes of the world. But Martelly has shown that he lack integrity and  is no more capable then Preval or anyone else to soothe international anxieties and bring much needed jobs to Haiti. I asked a woman  at a large pro-Martelly rally what Martelly would do for the people once he was president. Her response: "I'm not certain if Martelly will be able to change this, I mean we took to the streets for Preval too and he proved he wasn't able to do anything. But we have given professionals a chance and they have proven they aren't capable of helping us."

For me the sadness in this election is how little there is to aspire to.  All of the major candidates have made clear that they are far more interested in personal access to power than in the safety or stability of the Haitian people. Martelly, Celestin, and even Manigat have all issued statements claiming they think they deserve more of the vote. Celestin's people are threatening that they can 'unleash Cite Soliel' as if it was an animal in order to provoke a civil war. Martelly's people are claiming they won't stop until their man is president. Manigat thinks she should have won already.  These politicians are as embarrassing as the election that might bring them into power.

If you are intersted, look at my photos at http://picasaweb.google.com/erialcp/December8th2010#