For Haiti’s Wealthy, Crackdown Hasn’t Ended Good Life : Sanctions: Shopping in Miami is out, but nightclubs, casinos and restaurants in Port-au-Prince are doing fine.

The shopping flights to Miami are no more, and their U.S. bank accounts are frozen. But for the Haitian elite, the stress of life has been eased: Baltic mousse is back.

For a time, the privileged few in this nation of malnourished, even starving millions had begun to feel at least a pinprick, if not the true pain, of widening international sanctions imposed to try to force an end to more than 2 1/2 years of rule by a military regime who ousted the elected president in a coup.

Under an executive order by President Clinton, all flights to the United States from Haiti are banned; Haitians face the possibility of having their U.S. visas lifted. Those who have money in American banks, both in the United States and here, have seen the funds frozen; this measure was especially aimed at the military and their elite backers.

But if all these steps have caused inconvenience and even discomfort for the wealthy here, who are accustomed to treating Miami like a shopping mall, the ache is being relieved--even if Haitians now must stay at home--with a defiant resourcefulness that continues to frustrate the world’s economic sanctions.

High on the list of still-existing pleasures, for example, was the reopening this past week of La Souvenance--that most renowned of the six or so quality international restaurants in Haiti.

With the resumption of service at the upscale eatery in the posh, hilltop suburb of Petionville comes its piece de resistance: Baltic mousse, a delicate mix of salmon and herring roe served with capers and diced onions.

Baltic mousse first went missing in early spring when a worldwide fuel embargo designed to restore Jean-Bertrand Aristide to the presidency virtually ended electrical service and the needed refrigeration to keep the delicacy from turning into a stomach-churning pudding.

Then, Souvenance closed about two months ago when owner Jean-Guy Barme--faced with a sanction-caused shortage of perceived necessities such as French cheese and Belgian chocolate--retreated to France.

But in an act of fatalism--or mind-blowing optimism--Barme has returned, bringing with him the delicacies that enable him to construct not only the sought-after hors d’oeuvre but also filet mignon served with a bone-marrow sauce, grilled red snapper with sorrel and any number of chateau-produced wines.

On his return, Barme found that gasoline prices had dropped to their lowest level in four months. Public electrical service is available to Petionville 18 hours a day. Markets have plentiful supplies of fresh produce. And the local currency has actually gained value against the U.S. dollar.

“It’s the same story,” said a diplomat from a country that has supported the sanctions, except for the cutoff of services such as banking, which it finds advantageous to its own business interests.

Alluding to the reports of starving and dying poor Haitians who cannot pay for the food and medicine that is available, he said, “We can squeeze and even strangle the poor here, but somehow the MREs (the morally repulsive elite, as the wealthy here are often called) never really are more than inconvenienced.”

So, while the elite are deprived of the shops of Miami and easy access to U.S. banks, their children still cram Petionville clubs to hear popular rock groups and drink German beer. And for those who fancy gaming tables, the crowded casino at El Rancho hotel continues to pay blackjack at odds of 3-2--minimum bet $10 (U.S.), if you please.

All of this comes at a time when the United States appears to have exhausted all means of exerting economic pressure. Although U.S. Embassy spokesman Stanley Shrager says “we still have some arrows in our quiver” as he hinted at a revocation of all U.S. visas for Haitians, there isn’t much left.

“They’ve destroyed our businesses, unemployment is probably over 85%, we can’t get out, we can’t get our money, we can’t even send our children to college (in the United States),” said a businesswoman. “But it won’t bring Aristide back, not unless he comes back in a Marine tank, and what would he come back to? A country plowed back into the 18th Century.”

But “the point really is,” she said, “that the rich here can survive, and so can the military. The army gets its money from smuggling and extortion and keeps it in cash, or it simply takes it from the treasury. The rich saw all this coming and made the necessary plans.

“I’m not rich,” she said, “but I’m not stupid. I’m stocked for at least four months, and I know we all can get what we need.”

How is that done? In Haitian terms, it happens the old-fashioned way: Blame it on smuggling.

The prime source continues to be the neighboring Dominican Republic, which is supplying enough gasoline so that the price--although well beyond the reach of most Haitians at $7.50 a gallon--has dropped more than 20% in less than a month.

“You (Americans) think you can either pressure the Dominicans or bribe them into closing the border,” said a businessman engaged in smuggling. “Maybe that will work with (President Joaquin) Balaguer, but not with the majors and colonels on the border. They want the money for their pockets, so as long as we have the dollars we can get whatever we want.”