Damming the Flood is an analysis of recent political history in the Caribbean nation of Haiti. It unavoidably focuses on Jean-Bertrand Aristide, twice elected President (1990 & 2000) with a huge majority (67% & 92% respectively), and twice overthrown by coup (1991 & 2004). Aristide is an incredibly polarising figure in Haitian politics, and he is overwhelmingly portrayed in a negative light by mainstream politicians, academics, and the media. The book’s author, Peter Hallward, says Damming the Flood is ‘an exercise in anti-demonisation’, which attempts ‘to explain how and why, by the time it took place in February 2004, the second coup was widely [but wrongly, argues Hallward] seen as a blow struck for rather than against Haitian democracy.’

Damming the Flood is a richly detailed, thought-provoking account, providing a convincing, alternative reading to the mainstream consensus of recent Haitian history – in particular, drawing attention to the concerted efforts of the hegemonic class in Haiti and its international patrons, to stymie the political empowerment of the Haitian masses. Unfortunately, while attempting to address the imbalance of analyses of Aristide, Hallward creates an oversimplified dichotomy: ‘During these pivotal years of Haiti’s history, the most decisive political question did not concern the evils of neo-liberalism or the urgency of human rights but instead a matter of collective and strategic affiliation: for or against Lavalas [a loose political grouping comprised of grassroots organizations, lit. ‘Flood’] and Aristide?’

The problem with this dichotomy is that, intentionally or not, it portrays Aristide in an unequivocally positive light, providing little room for a justified opposition. It is true that the majority of Aristide’s opponents were self-interested and staunchly undemocratic, something Hallward effectively draws attention to. However, despite acknowledging that it could be argued that Aristide made mistakes, it is a shame that Hallward, especially when accounting for former supporters who deserted Aristide, tends to provide only two explanations for desertion: 1) former supporters were disappointed when they were not financially rewarded for their support (in the form of a governmental post), or 2) they simply succumbed to bribes from Aristide’s opponents to switch sides. Any supporter who deserted Aristide after he agreed to be returned by US troops to (severely compromised) power in 1994 is, according to Hallward, apparently motivated solely by self-interest, rather than the (right or wrong) conviction that Aristide should not have accepted a deal where his hands were so tied.

The situation in Haiti is more complicated than the ‘class warfare’ between the ‘bourgeoisie’ and ‘the poor’, that Hallward implies. Although he recognises the role of race, Hallward clearly feels that it plays a subservient role to class, whereas, it can be argued that the relationship between the two in Haiti is far more complex. Haiti is, to an extent, a polarised society, but it is a misleading generalisation to lump together the black middle class, and (predominantly black) Haitian soldiers, with the wealthy, (often light-skinned), media-owning, internationally-orientated families that comprise the Haitian elite, and assume they form a homogenous, unified ‘bourgeoisie’.

Unhelpful generalisations are also found in Hallward’s treatment of the international media, which, he seems to imply, consciously took part in a malevolent conspiracy aimed at demonising Aristide. There was certainly biased or lazy reporting – repeating accusations made by Aristide’s wealthy, unelected opposition as fact – which Hallward convincingly highlights, but to tarnish all reporters with the same brush leads the reader to question the bias (and therefore accuracy) of Hallward’s argument: he employs a selective use of newspapers, citing as evidence a number of articles from the mainstream US press when they support his argument, and simply denigrating them as biased or poorly-researched when they do not.

Such criticisms fail to significantly detract from an otherwise powerfully argued, deeply informed narrative, however. Damming the Flood illuminates the extraordinary machinations of Aristide’s opponents in Haiti, Canada, France, and the US.  Hallward’s analysis of the roles played in ‘Democracy Enhancement’ by USAID, the International Foundation for Electoral Systems, and the International Republican Institute, (between 1994-2002 Washington contributed $70m to organise and train Aristide’s opposition), is comprehensively researched and convincingly argued.

Damming the Flood contrasts the objectives of ‘spreading democracy’ with the basic principle of Aristide’s politics, the slogan, tout moun se moun (every person is a person). Aristide’s politics appears, in part, to explain why Hallward, a Professor of Modern European Philosophy, is so inclined to defend him. Hallward writes in his introduction that ‘true political action is animated by collective principles that concern everyone by definition – principles of freedom, equality, solidarity, justice… every person is indeed a person, regardless of their race, background or class.’ He sees liberation theology, which Aristide preaches, as a method of political empowerment, eventually leading to true participatory politics. But as Aristide makes clear, in an interview at the end of the book,

’Everything comes back, in the end, to the simple principle that tout moun se moun – every person is indeed a person, every person is capable of thinking things through for themselves. Either you accept this principle or you don’t. Those who don’t accept this, when they look at the nègres of Haiti – and consciously or unconsciously, that’s what they see – they see people who are too poor, too crude, too uneducated, to think for themselves. They see people who need others to make their decisions for them. It’s a colonial mentality, in fact, and this mentality is still very widespread among our political class.’

This mentality, the distinction between the quantitative majority and the qualitative majority, is certainly not confined to Haiti, or its political class, and Damming the Flood provides a provocative insight into the vast array of forces pitted against a movement (and leader), which according to Hallward, represented, through a potent combination of liberation theology and the desire to create genuine participatory politics, ‘little less than a menace to postcolonial civilisation itself.’

1) cf. David Nicholls, From Dessalines to Duvalier: Race, Colour and National Independence in Haiti (MacMillan, Basingstoke, 1988)