Haiti An Avalanche for Democracy

By Guy Garcia

In the sermon-like speeches that antagonized his enemies and mesmerized his followers, Father Jean-Bertrand Aristide often described his movement as a lavalas, the Haitian term for a cleansing avalanche that will wash away tyranny and corruption. That image was particularly relevant last week, as a political lavalas carried the 37-year-old Roman Catholic priest to an overwhelming victory in Haiti's first truly democratic presidential elections.

The triumph of Aristide and his party, the National Front for Change and Democracy, was a resounding endorsement of his brand of theological populism, which is based on restoring the dignity and material well-being of the country's 6.2 million people. Even before the results were official, Port-au- Prince erupted in spontaneous street demonstrations bigger than the ones that followed the departure of the hated Jean-Claude "Baby Doc" Duvalier in 1986. As police in riot gear nervously looked on, thousands of jubilant Haitians waved tree branches as a sign of joy and shouted, "Aristide is President!" Aristide's victory, said Haitian economist Gerard Pierre Charles, marks a breakthrough in "the people's historic struggle for democracy against authoritarianism."

Despite isolated reports of missing ballots and other irregularities, United Nations observers described the elections as fair. Former U.S. President Jimmy Carter, one of the monitors, called the voting "remarkably peaceful" and hailed the military for its uncharacteristically supportive role. Early results projected Aristide winning with 70% of the votes; the second-place finisher, former World Bank official Marc Bazin, received only 13%.

Born in the isolated fishing village of Port Salut, Aristide moved with his widowed mother to the capital and was educated by Salesian priests, a group dedicated to charity and spiritual instruction for poor and orphaned children. Even before his ordination in 1982, he began writing protest songs about the exploitation of the poor. Sent to Israel and Canada to study the Bible and psychology, he returned to Haiti in 1985, just in time to participate in the nonviolent anti-Duvalier movement. After Duvalier's ouster, Aristide continued to be a persistent critic of the government and an outspoken proponent of the "liberation theology" movement, based in Latin America, which holds that the clergy has a moral obligation to improve the plight of the poor by organizing them politically.

Aristide's polemical preaching led to his expulsion from the Salesian order in 1988. While he technically remains a priest, Aristide is forbidden to say Mass. He has indicated he will leave the priesthood to serve as Haiti's President.

Aristide's activism has also put him in mortal danger. Since 1986, there have been numerous attempts on his life. The danger was evident three weeks ago, when a grenade killed eight people at a rally outside Port-au-Prince. Aristide's uncanny ability to survive such attacks has led some Haitians to believe he is protected by magical and religious powers.

But the priest's supporters are not taking any chances. Since the election, Aristide has made no statements or public appearances. He now wears a bulletproof vest and sleeps in a different location every night. Until he takes office in February, the most immediate threat is from forces loyal to Duvalier. Roger Lafontant, a former leader of Duvalier's dreaded Tontons Macoutes, has vowed he will "do anything" to prevent Aristide from becoming President.

Even without the added worry of assassination, Aristide faces a formidable task. Haiti's economy is a shambles, with poverty rampant, electric outages a common occurrence and potable water at a premium. Unemployment and underemployment run at a minimum of 65%, and inflation rises 2% each month. The U.S. is considering increasing food aid, development assistance and other economic credits. But first Aristide must hammer out an economic program.

Besides freeing the country from the grip of the Tontons Macoutes, Aristide has pledged to wage war on corruption and bring openness to government. But to succeed he will have to enlist the help of the very groups he has alienated, including the church, businessmen and the upper classes. Since his party failed to win a majority in the 110-seat parliament, he may also have to learn the art of democratic compromise. Last week Aristide hinted at the possibility of forming a government of "patriotic union" that would include some of his former opponents.

Meanwhile Aristide faces a delicate balancing act: to keep his credibility with the masses, he must act quickly to institute reforms, but not at the expense of national unity. And while Aristide seems to enjoy the support of some of the military rank and file, there is no guarantee that its commanders will remain loyal.

But most Haitians remain optimistic. Says Jean-Claude Bajeux, a professor of theology and the head of Haiti's Ecumenical Human Rights Center: "He knows he alone can't change the country, and we can't ask him to make the changes with a magical wand." If the people remember that, then not even the army can stop Aristide's avalanche.

With reporting by Cathy Booth and Bernard Diederich/Port-au-Prince