1993, June 27 – July 3: (The Governors Island Accord: Three Days of Shuttle Diplomacy Without Face-to-Face Contact, Three Drops of Corn Liquor from a Still o…
1993, June 27 – July 3: (The Governors Island Accord: Three Days of Shuttle Diplomacy Without Face-to-Face Contact, Three Drops of Corn Liquor from a Still of Sour Mash, Aristide Names a Prime Minister and Sanctions Are Lifted in Return for Army Reforms and Amnesty, Aristide’s Return Date Set for October 30, Aristide Gives Up His Only Weapon — the Toughened Sanctions — for an IOU to Be Filled Later, Cédras Returns to a Tumultuous Welcome, Robert Malval the Better-Fed Peter Lorre Who Marched at Selma Named Prime Minister, Malval Announces He Will Stay Only Until December 15, Fritz Mevs Breaks Ground on a Mammoth Oil Tank Farm, and the Storm Signals — Antoine Izméry Dragged from Mass at Sacré-Coeur on September 11 and Killed on the Spot Where Jumelle’s Corpse Had Been Hijacked Thirty-Four Years Earlier): Even in New York’s summer heat, things were sufficiently frosty that the delegations that ultimately responded to the UN invitation on June 27 never actually sat down face to face. Instead, over three days, envoy Caputo shuttled proposals and counter-proposals back and forth. What emerged from the discussions, like three drops of corn liquor from a still of sour mash, was what came to be known as the Governors Island Accord. The principles addressed all the same tired issues — as scripted in New York, Aristide would name a Prime Minister, the sanctions would be lifted, reforms would be made in the army, the coup-plotters given amnesty, and Aristide would return. The army and police reforms would occur under the watchful eye of a UN peacekeeping force, the date set for Aristide’s return being October 30, 1993. It took very little insight to realize that Aristide, pressured by the international community, had agreed to give up his only weapon — the recently toughened sanctions — in return for an IOU to be filled later. Nothing in the junta’s previous behavior gave anyone any hope that they would fulfill their bargain, but without even a de facto Prime Minister on the ground, Aristide felt obliged to put his shoulder to the wheel yet again. In Port-au-Prince a returning Cédras was given a tumultuous welcome by a crowd looking forward to a renewed flow of oil and goods. For his Prime Minister, President Aristide put forward the name of Robert Malval — well-educated, thoughtful, the successful owner of one of Haiti’s largest printers and publishers, Imprimerie Natal. A member of the elite, he seemed well positioned to bridge the gap between Pétionville and Washington. Announcing his acceptance of the post in mid-August, Malval noted that he would stay only until December 15, 1993. Sworn in successively in Washington and Port-au-Prince, Malval would have done well to note the actions of a fellow member of the elite, Fritz Mevs — within days of Malval’s taking office, the scion of the conservative family that so despised Lavalas broke ground outside Port-au-Prince on a mammoth oil tank farm. Those looking for storm signals had not long to wait: on the morning of September 11, a mass was sung at Sacré-Coeur in memory of those killed by Franck Romain’s macoutes at St.-Jean-Bosco five years earlier. In attendance, courageously, was Antoine Izméry, still grieving for the brother assassinated the previous year. In a move whose message could be mistaken by no one, macoutes marched into the church, removed Izméry at gunpoint, and killed him on the very spot where Clément Jumelle’s corpse had been hijacked thirty-four years earlier.