Laurent Dubois (1) (1971–)

Summary: A history of Haiti, from colonial rule under France up to the earthquake of 2010.

If you are following world news you will have noticed the descent of Haiti into gang violence and a dissolution of its government with no president since the assassination of President Moise in 2021 and the resignation of acting Prime Minister of Ariel Henry in March 2024. Numerous citizens have been kidnapped, many have fled the country and the country is facing critical levels of food insecurity. With show more that in view, I picked up this history of the country to see if I might gain some understanding of the current events. Laurent Dubois narrates the history of the country from the colonial period under France up until 2010, although the period after the Duvaliers, father and son, is only briefly covered.

It is a history to make one weep. The country is the only country to gain independence through the revolt of a slave people, in this case against France. Slaves on the profitable sugar plantations rose under the leadership of Toussaint Louverture in a fight running from 1791 to 1804 for independence. Toussaint died as a prisoner of war during an attempt by the French to recapture the former colony. The French were finally defeated in 1804 under a coalition led by Jean-Jacques Dessalines who proclaimed himself emperor, re-established the plantation system rather than the small farms people wanted, and then died.

One element of this story is the instability, authoritarian character and corruption of leaders that goes back to the nation's origins. Over its history, the country has experienced over 30 coups. Leaders re-wrote constitutions several time to protect their power, in one instance, for life. There was a reliance upon the military, or in the case of the Duvalier dynasty of 30 years, the employment of a private militia, the Tonton Macoutes to ruthlessly stifle opposition.

Another is the pattern of foreign interference throughout the country's history, beginning with the colonial rule of France. After independence, France held the country in thrall through an onerous indemnity, that took the best part of a century to liquidate, setting up a destructive pattern of borrowing and debt that held a stranglehold on the country. For a period of time, the country's treasury was a French bank!

The United States did not recognize Haiti for over fifty years, frightened by the idea of a successful slave revolt. Then with the expansion of U.S. Naval power Haiti first became attractive as a site for a coaling station. Later, business interests were interested in what could be extracted from the country. Internal order brought an invasion of U.S. Marines in 1915 to restore order, build roads and infrastructure, and promote agricultural reforms.

It was a high-handed paternalistic effort, with few bothering to learn the language and culture. When resistance was encountered, villages were destroyed and atrocities occurred for which there has never been a reckoning. Our Marines were only withdrawn in the 1930's but our countries' interests continue to be intertwined. In the Duvalier era, for example, Nelson Rockefeller can be seen in chummy photos with "Papa Doc" Duvalier. Dubois extends this paternalistic approach to many of the NGOs, aid and mission organizations working in the country, that often competed with local economies, supplanting local trades, draining resources, and often repeating the military's mistake of not learning French or Creole, nor the indigenous culture.

Dubois presents a picture of a country in which the people often outshine the leaders, pressing to be free from plantation economies and foreign interests, and for government reforms. Sadly, the pattern of people rising to leadership, only to follow the corrupt, authoritarian models of their predecessors, is repeated again and again.

Finally, we see the natural devastation of the country, from monocultures that exhaust the soil, hillside erosions and the loss of topsoils, and deforestation, culminating in the devastating earthquake of 2010 (and another, after publication, in 2020). What is grievous is that this was a country once rich in natural resources that is the poorest country in the Western hemisphere.

Amid all the devastation, Dubois still holds out hope that the people who rose from slavery can rise to build a new Haiti. I found myself far less certain, wondering how the habits of good civil government, the rule of law, ethical business practice and sustainable agriculture can be established and developed. Given the current descent into gang violence and anarchy, I wonder if we are watching a nation in the throes of self-destruction, one that could precipitate a terrible genocide. Is it not time for the international community to act to prevent great loss of life, provide critical aid, and to offer the breathing space to restore civil order? But only Haiti can do the rest. show less

I'm not a dispassionate reader. I have been to Haiti twice and, alongside my wife, have participated in humanitarian projects and worship services. We love the people and the country. That's why this book is so devastating to read.

Haiti's history began with a massive slave revolt. It was the first successful revolt in history. Obviously, slave-owning nations wanted nothing to do with this country (other than to re-enslave it)—what if these ideas spread?

Consider also the internal problems. show more Haiti's wealth was in sugar plantations. How would freed slaves engage the system that had kept them in chains?

In Haiti: The Aftershocks of History, Dubois shows how this founding narrative has impacted all of Haiti's subsequent history. He shows how the United States used Haiti for its own ends in a 20th century military invasion. He shows how actions have consequences.

Haiti: The Aftershocks of History is a detailed and insightful retelling of the history of a country and people I have learned to love. show less

It's interesting to me to read all these reviews about how wonderful and thrilling this book is. I mean, I understand why, it is superbly written, but it is also a very depressing and sobering read. It helps to understand Haitian history, but also the histories of France, England, and the US. I mean, the chapter on the US occupation... I wish similar writings were included in American history texts. It might help people understand why American soldiers are not always happily greeted when show more they show up to save people.
Dubois provides a very readable overview of Haitian history from the Revolution to the Duvalier years. Some people have criticized the fact that so little attention is paid to the Aristide years and the current situation. But, I feel like so many recent works address those topics. This book provides the background for people to understand what is happening now. show less

I wanted to like this more than I did. And there is much to like: Dubois knows his stuff and offers some interesting histories of various rules (offside and not fouling the keeper) and people (like Zidane and Maradona). The writing is clear and lively and the book moves from anecdote to anecdote. I’m sure that some readers who know more about the sport than I do will complain about what’s left out—in his chapter on forwards, for example, there's scant mention of the GOAT debate show more revolving around Messi and Reynaldo. But I am not nearly as much of a superfan as those who have watched the sport since infancy. I learned a lot about how Drogba intervened in Ivory Coast’s civil war and how the Rules of the Game were formed.

What marred my experience of The Language of the Game was how Dubois peppers the book with political asides in order to display his bona fides to his like-minded readers. Can't we get a day off? For example, in his chapter on the referee, Dubois describes the introduction of goal-line technology in the 2010 World Cup:

Its introduction was a concession to the fact that referees had, with some frequency, made mistakes about this in the past, by giving a goal when the ball hadn’t crossed the line or else claiming the ball hadn’t crossed the line when it did. The latter was famously the case in the 2010 men’s World Cup, when a goal scored by the US against Slovenia, which clearly went over the line, was disallowed by the Malian referee Koman Coulibaly. The decision was a lightning rod; suddenly all kinds of people who never seem to care much about soccer before were enraged that this referee—who, some noted, didn’t even speak English!—had stole a goal from the United States.

Of course anyone who complained that the referee didn’t speak English is an idiot—but Dubois throws that aside in here for no reason other than to demonstrate his own superiority to them, which is like claiming one’s superiority over a caveman. At the time, the language of that referee was not a major issue and the crack serves no other purpose than to call to mind the cliché of the Ugly American. He does this also in his chapter on the fan, in which he states that the Gold Cup tournament “causes occasional outbreaks of xenophobia among some US fans” and offers Tim Howard’s foolish 2011 complaint that the trophy ceremony was held in Spanish. Again, Dubois offers the argument of a lone blockhead as if it were representative of Americans as a whole. And are the US fans the only “xenophobic” ones? I've seen the USMNT play Paraguay and Ghana and both were great times with lots of friendly hi-fives between different countries' supporters. And if there’s any institution in which Americans do not fall into racism or xenophobia, it’s sports.

Dubois also speaks of the lawsuit brought by the USWNT that their earning less money than their male counterparts is discriminatory. But surely he knows that this is a matter of economics. If talent and trophies determined pay, the women would be paid much more than their lackluster male counterparts. If I could do what Neymar does, I, too, would be the reason for a $300 million transfer fee. But, for good or for ill, it’s the market that determines the salaries. Once more eyes are ready to watch ads during halftimes of women’s games, the salaries will rise.

These moments are not enough to ruin the book, but one of the great things about soccer is that, for ninety minutes, we can be free of hashtags and bumper stickers and virtue signaling. Dubois seems to want the experience of watching soccer to resemble that of reading the Washington Post. And that’s a shame, because he clearly loves the game. There are great stories to be told about how soccer has influenced (and been influenced by) national events; Dubois is solid and engaging when he sticks to them. show less