Haitian slaves today.
Revolutions lead to dictatorship, and are 'a bad thing'.
What about the The Haitian Revolution of 1791–1804?
We've been to Haiti and it still looks like a slave colony.
In Haiti, the French slave owners produced many mixed-race children.
These children were given an education and helped run the French colony.
They became the elite after the revolution.
Papa Doc, former ruler of Haiti
After the revolution, the 'black' Haitians continued to be treated like slaves.
Today in Haiti, at least 300,000 children live as slaves - in forced and usually violent servitude.
Beverly Bell: Slavery in Haiti, Again
It was on 1 January 1804, that Jean-Jacques Dessalines declared Haiti to be 'free and independent'.
As a result of the revolution, Haiti was crippled.
Haiti's revolution got rid of slavery?
Haiti's revolution ended in 1804.
But, in 1794 the French Convention had already abolished slavery.
Haiti is now the poorest country in the Caribbean. Here are the figures for GDP per person:
|Trinidad & T.||$16,693|
|St Kitts and Nevis||$12,687|
|St Vincent & G||$6,447|
After the revolution in Haiti, approximately 90% of Haitians were in "wage earning serfdom" - earning so little on the planatations that they were more or less slaves.
How does the Haitian economy work?
Reportedly, most baseballs are made in Haiti and they are made by American companies. The factory girls get 'starvation wages'. Reportedly they also get injured arms and eyes.
In Haiti, the Americans control the bauxite, sugar and sisal. It's like Cuba before Castro.
Reportedly, Walt Disney have contractors in Haiti who make Micky Mouse clothes. At one time the factory girls were getting 8 pence an hour. You can't live on that. Then Wal-mart sells the Pocahontas pyjamas for quite a few dollars. (Babylon)
Franz gave his old battered plimsoles, which were split on both sides, to a tiny barefoot beggar boy with a badly swollen eye.
The plimsoles were many sizes too big for the tiny beggar, but, the boy was overjoyed to have them and thanked us many times.
His name was Minoir.
Minoir shuffled away, going round to the back of a restaurant to search for food.
A fat lady came running out of the restaurant and started chasing Minoir while brandishing a piece of rope.
Minoir ran down the street screaming.
His plimsoles came off.
The fat lady picked up the plimsoles and threw them in a rubbish bin.
Sitting in the park in front of the president's palace eating lunch, Franz and I were stared at by a boy with legs as thin as pokers.
I offered him a roll.
He thanked us so very politely and ran off to eat it hurriedly behind a tree.