October 2008

This month’s chronicle concerns the presence of Haitians in Dominican society. They are everywhere, and so they are an integral part of our brief experience here. But they are particularly present in the bateyes as workers in the cane fields and the sugar industry. As yet we have no direct experience of this. We still have not visited any of these sites (and these photos of batey scenes are not our own.) There is a violent ambivalence in Dominican attitudes toward Haitians, and it poses a challenge for the church here.

 
Cane Fields
  

Haiti and the Dominican Republic have a lot in common simply because they occupy the same island, Hispaniola (see map below).  And yet they are culturally very different. Haiti was a French colony and the DR was a Spanish colony, and Haiti’s colonial economy depended on African slavery to a much greater extent than the DR’s. Haitians speak French

and its derivative Creole while Dominicans speak Spanish, and Haitian ethnicity has a much stronger African element. It’s interesting that most maps of the DR don’t extend to the other end of the island to include Haiti—as if to suggest that this land to which they are so strongly and obviously connected doesn’t really matter.

 
Batey housing
  
The island of Hispaniola includes both Haiti and the Dominican Republic

Two historical facts strongly shape our current situation. First, the Dominican Republic won its independence, not from Spain but from Haiti. When the Spanish colonizers left more or less voluntarily in the early 19th century, Haiti—which had recently won its independence from France—occupied the whole island for about 20 years. The Dominicans successfully revolted against the Haitians and established their republic in 1844, and ever since then Haitians have had the popular image of aggressors. Second, the Episcopal Church in the Dominican Republic was founded, not by missionaries from the US or England, but as an extension of the then independent Episcopal Church of Haiti. In the later 19th century immigrants from British West Indian colonies came to the DR to work in the cane fields, some of whom were Anglicans. They needed clergy, and the Haitian church ordained the first priest to serve among them. (See the August 2007 Chronicle.)

Supposedly local Dominican art for sale everywhere is actually produced in the DR but the motifs are of Haitian origin

So Dominican society is characterized by many things that are historically and culturally derived from Haiti, and yet there is also a strong reaction against this because of the popular impression of past Haitian aggression. For example, wherever one goes in the DR, there are paintings offered for sale as local art, with colorful folkloric motifs that are almost entirely of Haitian origin. And yet one can also see scrawled on a wall nearby the slogan, ¡Fuera haitianos! (“Haitians out!”).

Haitian motifs in Dominican art

Haitians out!

This violent ambivalence affects the current wave of immigration, both legal and illegal. In one sense the immigrants are an asset to Dominican society. The educated ones often know four languages—French, Creole, English and Spanish—and have technological aptitudes. The uneducated ones will do the grunt work that Dominicans no longer want to do, on construction crews and in the cane fields. In another sense the immigrants seem to pose a socio-cultural “threat” –one that is deeply resented. Incidents between Haitians and Dominicans can erupt into violence in which Haitians are lynched and their homes burned.

This dynamic touches us on several levels. The former vicar of the Church of the Epiphany, Jean Monique Bruno, was a Haitian, and we have a good many Haitian members. Most of them are permanent residents, but because of their presence transient immigrants often see our church as a welcoming place. They come looking for help, and we are aware of how precarious their situation is.

 
Jean Monique Bruno former vicar of the
Church of the Epiphany and his wife Marise
For example, a couple of month ago René needed bus money to take his family back to Haiti, because he no longer had work and several of them had developed expensive medical problems. (He himself is diabetic.) He needed the support of relatives back home in order to cope. Last week, however, he came back.  Despite all the problems he and his family had here, Haiti has even less opportunity to offer them. So René decided to come back to the DR, this time alone, to take a job at a resort in Bávaro. His work will give him room and board, so he will be able to send most of his salary back to his wife and children. After working six months, he will get a month off to go and see them. This time he needed money to pay for his bus fare, his insulin, and a couple of day’s lodging until the start of his job. René’s situation is relatively promising, because he at least has a job.  

Not all sugar cane workers are Haitians, but in many areas Dominicans have left this very hard work to find better jobs, and Haitian immigrants have filled this economic niche. The Episcopal Church is closely involved in several of the predominantly Haitian batey communities. Several months ago the Dioceses of Haiti and the Dominican Republic had a conference to study ways in which they might better coordinate their ministry with immigrants on both ends of the immigration process. A diocesan committee has been charged with following through on the recommendations of this conference. (See the March 2008 Chronicle.)

 
 

A member of Epiphany recently got hold of the DVD, The Price of Sugar, an award-winning documentary about the work of a Catholic priest with batey residents. Several of us decided to show this at the church, as a way of raising consciousness about the problems faced by cane field workers. For example, the movie shows that when they leave Haiti they are stripped of their Haitian identification but are not given any Dominican identification either, which leaves them without any recognized citizenship or nationality—the better to keep them virtually imprisoned in the batey.

However, the cane field owners heavily criticized in the film have filed suit in the US against its makers, and have managed to get the importation of the movie banned here. Whenever a public showing is announced, they threaten legal action. In the US we would know how to parry such intimidation, but here—where one is guilty until proven innocent—we are not so sure. We are now afraid to show The Price of Sugar, which of course is just what the cane field owners want.

   

We have suggested to the diocesan committee that this documentary might be part of a larger symposium on the problems faced by Haitian sugar workers. This context would make it clear that our intention is not to vilify these particular owners, but to better understand the plight of the workers. We’ll see where this goes.