Haiti Activist, ‘Boat People’ Return to Homeland With Different Hopes, Dreams

All were Haitian exiles of sorts but with quite different hopes and dreams.

One, Jean Claude Bajeux, a former priest and political activist, was expelled from the country 24 years ago under suspicion of opposing then-dictator Francois (Papa Doc) Duvalier. While he was in exile, his mother, two sisters and two brothers disappeared, presumed murder victims of Duvalier’s dreaded political enforcers, the Tontons Macoutes.

Now, gray and balding, the activist had flown by commercial jet back to Haiti. He was the first such exile known to have come back since the fall of Duvalier’s son and successor, President-for-Life Jean-Claude Duvalier, and he spoke mostly of human rights and a hoped-for new constitution, elections and freedoms for Haiti.

The other arrivals, 148 Haitian “boat people,” most of them youthful, had tried to flee the poverty and repression of their country.

The U.S. Coast Guard cutter Steadfast intercepted the boat people in two batches, long before they could reach their destination--the American shoreline. Some of them had been gone from Haiti only 12 days before the Steadfast put them back ashore Sunday in Port-au-Prince harbor.

Try to Leave Again

And most of them talked about nothing else but trying to leave again.

The two kinds of returnees--the activists and the boat people--had a few things in common: all are Haitian, all left and all came back after the departure of Jean-Claude Duvalier, himself now seeking a permanent place of exile.

Beyond that, their outlook diverged. The activist saw Duvalier’s fall as an opportunity for change. The boat people foresaw only a continued misery: no food, no work, no money.

Their separate stories underscore differences likely to be encountered in the future between idealistic exiles coming home and citizens living a harsh reality.

Bajeux, 53, a graduate of Harvard, returned last week in defiance of government visa regulations. A Haitian law still in force requires citizens who have been out of the country longer than 90 days to have formal permission to re-enter. That law has delayed an expected influx of political exiles eager to resume life here, now that the Duvalier dynasty is gone.

During his exile, spent mostly in the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico, Bajeux has campaigned for the rights of asylum for Haitian exiles and for better treatment of Haitian migrant workers. Back in Haiti, he intends to crusade for prosecution of Duvalier agents who kidnaped, tortured and killed opponents of the government.

Among such victims were members of his own family. They were reportedly rounded up and beaten to death after Bajeux’ name was linked with attempts by exiles to invade Haiti from the neighboring Dominican Republic.

Bajeux also plans to lobby for public forums to discuss writing a new constitution. “We have a great opportunity,” he said. “We must set deadlines and stick to them.”

He warned, however, against expectations of fast results. He said that the five-member National Council that replaced Duvalier should be given a chance to perform, while political parties are organized in advance of elections.

“We don’t need adventurists imposing extreme ideas,” he said.

The boat people have already dismissed the notion of waiting.

Fifty-one men, women and children boarded the rickety fishing boat Manteao St. Pierre on Dec. 31 at Gonave Island. After stops in Cuba for repairs and food, they headed across the Florida Straits for Miami, where thousands of their compatriots have taken refuge in recent years.

On Feb. 4, just three days before Duvalier left Haiti for France, 97 poor residents of the town of Petit Goave boarded the single-masted Dieu Moula with Miami in mind.

Neither boat made it. A few days ago, the U.S. Coast Guard intercepted the Manteao St. Pierre 120 miles south of Miami, and Saturday the Dieu Moula was intercepted west of Haiti’s northern peninsula. All of the ragged passengers were transferred to the Steadfast.

Their repatriation Sunday was a sullen affair. All had been told about Duvalier’s departure, but none reacted with glee when disembarking at Port-au-Prince.

“We left because we are poor. It is still miserable where I live,” said Isner Elus, 23, from Petit Goave.

A reporter asked a lineup of the waiting returnees if, because Duvalier had fallen, they would now stay in Haiti. All responded in a chorus, “No.”

“We will try to go back to Miami,” said Williau Laveaux, 22.

A few of the refugees said that the Duvalier decline had aggravated their already hard life. Some said that demonstrators sacked their homes as part of the disorder that preceded the end of the dictatorship. Others complained of shakedowns by the Tontons Macoutes in recent months.

One woman said she would stay in Haiti, but not because of the changing political landscape. She said she had suffered severe seasickness and would not attempt a second crossing.