1993, October 11–14: (The Harlan County Debacle: FRAPH — Front for Advancement and Progress of Haiti, the Name Sounding Exactly Like the Creole Word for Hit …

1993, October 11–14: (The Harlan County Debacle: FRAPH — Front for Advancement and Progress of Haiti, the Name Sounding Exactly Like the Creole Word for Hit — Toto Constant’s Second-and Third-Generation Macoutes Fluent in English and Familiar with American Media, FRAPH Watches CNN and Knows About Somalia, the USS Harlan County Steams Toward Haiti with Lightly Armed U.S. and Canadian Troops, Captain John Butcher Ordered to Land in a Friendly Environment Sees None, One Hundred Macoutes Bully the International Community into Submission, Slocombe Boasts He Saved the United States from a Small War, the Pentagon Would Not Risk Soldiers’ Lives to Put That Psychopath Back in Power, Senator Helms Attacks Aristide’s Psychological Health, U.S. Credibility Sinks to Zero, Guy Malary Aristide’s Justice Minister Shot Dead on October 14, and Clinton Reimposés the Embargo with U.S. Naval Patrols): Key to Aristide’s return on October 30 was the landing of a UN force that could keep the peace — the concept, deeply troubling to those with memories of 1915, was reluctantly regarded as a necessary evil by most Aristide partisans if the cycle of army-sponsored violence was ever to be broken. Predictably, with the embargo suspended and oil flowing, the sensitive issue of foreign peacekeepers on Haiti’s soil was used to rally those already ill-disposed to see the Governors Island Accord’s final provisions implemented. Under the banner of FRAPH — Front for Advancement and Progress of Haiti, the name not by coincidence sounding exactly like the Creole word for hit — a band of second- and third-generation macoutes, typified by Toto Constant, forty-year-old son of the former army chief of staff, coalesced to give the shadowy terror a more public face. Many of FRAPH’s younger members had been to school in the U.S. and were fluent in English; familiar with the use of media, they were able to organize demonstrations in just the right numbers to assure a spot on the nightly news in the U.S. along with an accompanying soundbite. The U.S. public was the target of these demonstrations — FRAPH members watched CNN like many others and were thus aware of the Clinton administration’s growing discomfort with its ill-defined Somalia mission, an inheritance from the Bush administration. A number of casualties in Mogadishu firefights in early October had done nothing to ease the administration’s qualms about opening a second international police operation in its own back yard. Steaming toward Haiti in the second week of October 1993, the USS Harlan County carried a contingent of lightly armed U.S. and Canadian troops that were to form the vanguard of the UN force. In Port-au-Prince, teledjòl buzzed with rumors that the troops would not be allowed to debark. As the Harlan County hove to, a group of one hundred or so FRAPH members gathered with placards and weapons in the dock area of Port-au-Prince; diplomats trying to pass through the crowd to observe the disembarkation were jostled, manhandled, and in some cases blocked. The Harlan County’s Captain, John Butcher, had been ordered to land in a friendly environment — seeing none, he unilaterally made a decision to sail off and so informed the Pentagon, which then briefed the White House. Incredibly, one hundred macoutes had bullied the international community into submission. Questions immediately arose as to whether the administration’s heart had ever been in the project, or if the landings had been quietly sabotaged by a Pentagon not in love with either Clinton or Aristide — at a Washington cocktail party, Deputy Under Secretary of Defense Walter Slocombe was alleged to have boasted that he had saved the United States from a small war, and that the Pentagon would not risk soldiers’ lives to put that psychopath back in power. Whatever the impetus of the change of heart, the following days brought a rash of anti-Aristide stories leaked by the Republicans — Senator Helms, surely William Jennings Bryan’s spiritual successor in ignorance on matters Haitian, was at the vanguard of those attacking Aristide’s psychological health. With the Harlan County episode, U.S. credibility in Haiti sank to zero. The junta in Port-au-Prince celebrated its victory by removing yet another critic — on October 14, Guy Malary, an able young lawyer from one of Haiti’s distinguished families and Aristide’s justice minister, was shot dead. Seeing that the Governors Island accord was dead, President Clinton reimposed the embargo, putting teeth in it by ordering U.S. naval vessels to patrol Haiti’s perimeter — the junta of course had taken good advantage of the suspension to bunker as much petroleum as possible.