Haiti and Dominican Republic: No Détente in Sight

By Emma Fawcett*

Resettlement camp at Corail Cesselesse, Haiti Photo Credit: Oxfam International / Flickr / Creative Commons

Resettlement camp at Corail Cesselesse, Haiti Photo Credit: Oxfam International / Flickr / Creative Commons

Tensions stemming from the Dominican Republic’s forced repatriation of Haitians are spilling over into other aspects of the traditionally problematic relations between the two countries, with little prospect of resolution.  Over the summer, the Dominican Republic began a forced repatriation process for Haitians who did not comply with its 2014 National Plan for the Regularization of Foreigners.  After a temporary suspension prompted by international outrage, deportations resumed on August 15 at a rate of 50 to 100 per day, and the International Organization for Migration reports that many more Haitians are “spontaneously returning.”  Of the half million previously found to be without residency permits, about 288,000 people registered for the regularization process –180,000 of whom were rejected and are likely to be repatriated.  According to Amnesty International, 27 percent of those who have left voluntarily say they were born in the Dominican Republic, but they fear arrest or harassment because they lack proper documentation.  At least four camps filled with recent deportees have sprung up on the Haitian side of the border, and the United Nations Human Rights Council has warned that conditions are abysmal and sanitation facilities inadequate.  The Haitian government has promised to assist in resettlement efforts, but there has been no coordinated response.  At the Tête à l’Eau camp, the government initially provided $30 in assistance to deportees, but ran out of funds.

In retaliation, Haiti on October 1 began enforcing a ban on the overland importation of 23 Dominican goods, including wheat flour, cooking oil, and soap.  These products must now enter by boat or plane to Port-au-Prince or Cap Haïtien.  Smugglers found in violation of the new regulation will have their goods confiscated.  Originally announced a year ago as a way of increasing customs revenue and reducing smuggling, the measure is expected to cause prices for staples to increase by up to 40 percent in Haiti and will cost the Dominican Republic $500 million in trade revenue.  A Dominican Chamber of Commerce official noted that the measure “violates norms of free bilateral commerce and international agreements.”  Market women who run much of Haiti’s informal economy by acquiring goods across the border and bringing them home to sell have already faced difficulties since the Dominican immigration crackdown began, and the trade ban poses a further threat to their livelihoods and those of their customers.  The Association of Haitian Industry (ADIH) hopes that the measure will improve demand for domestic products.  The Dominican government and businesses have argued that trade and migration issues should remain separate matters.

The new, slower pace of deportations has allowed the Dominican government to continue with their original strategy while avoiding further media attention and threats to their tourism industry.  Ongoing presidential campaigns in both countries – with Haiti’s elections on October 25 and Dominican President Medina seeking reelection next May – have made the antagonism politically useful for both.  However, the heaviest costs, including deportations, resettlement in makeshift camps, and potentially dramatic increases in food prices, are, as usual, borne by Haiti’s poorest.  A recent World Bank report on Haiti noted that “a social contract is missing between the State and its citizens,” and the Haitian government’s inability to provide for returnees and short-sighted trade policy is clear evidence of that.  The international community – the OAS in particular – has made serious missteps in its efforts to encourage bilateral talks, including a call for dialogue by OAS Secretary General Luis Almagro that was misinterpreted as a call for the unification of Hispaniola.  In response, the Dominican press has doubled down on its inflammatory rhetoric.  Neither side sees advantage to ending the stalemate, at least until after the Haitian electoral process has concluded. 

October 6, 2015

*Emma Fawcett is a PhD candidate in International Relations at American University.  Her doctoral thesis focuses on the political economy of tourism and development in four Caribbean case studies: Haiti, Dominican Republic, Cuba, and the Mexican Caribbean.

 

Dominican Republic: Heavy-handed Migration Policies

By Emma Fawcett*

Haitian sugarcane collectors in Dominican Republic. Photo Credit: El Marto / Flickr / Creative Commons

Haitian sugarcane collectors in Dominican Republic. Photo Credit: El Marto / Flickr / Creative Commons

The government of the Dominican Republic has not yet begun massive forced repatriations of the potentially 200,000 Haitians who have failed to comply with its “National Plan for Regularization of Foreigners,” but its plans to conduct sweeps for undocumented persons and put them in processing centers are already causing fear.  Last Wednesday evening marked the ominous deadline for those without legal residency to register in a process that began following a 2013 Tribunal Constitucional decision that Haitian descendants born in the Dominican Republic after 1929 did not qualify for Dominican citizenship.  After a barrage of international outrage at the prospect that hundreds of thousands of Dominicans of Haitian descent risked statelessness, President Danilo Medina and the Dominican Congress took action to create a path to citizenship for some and offer regularized – but temporary – residency to those who can prove they lived in the country before October 2011.

The Regularization Plan affects an estimated 524,000 people, including some 460,000 that a survey by the Ministry of the Economy in 2012 found were in the country without residency permits.  An estimated 250,000 people have started registration processes, but local media report that only 10,000 of them have all the necessary documents – including Haitian passports that are slow and expensive to get – and only 300 have received their temporary residency permits.  Applicants cannot be deported while their cases are evaluated, but there have already been reported instances of indiscriminate deportations.  Long lines outside the Ministry of Interior – with waits of up to 15 days – have frustrated many who tried to register.  Those who have already registered have been asked to carry their documentation at all times, to avoid difficulties with Police and Army patrols targeting Haitian neighborhoods armed with clubs and Tasers.  Amnesty International and other observers have called on the government to respect human rights, but there is widespread fear that, once international attention diminishes, many thousands of Dominicans of Haitian descent will be forcibly deported.  The fear is already driving hundreds of voluntary departures.

Dominicans have relied on Haitian migrant labor for generations, and many of those without documentation were born in the Dominican Republic, speak only Spanish, and have no ties to Haiti.  Pogroms against Haitian descendants are not unprecedented either – most infamously when Dominican dictator Rafael Trujillo in 1937 ordered attacks on Haitians living along the border, killing an estimated 35,000 in less than a week.  Dominican officials appear committed to preventing such gross violations now and claim that their immigration policies are more forgiving than elsewhere in the region.  While Haitian President Michel Martelly has said that the country “is ready to receive with dignity our sons, our brothers,” his government’s obvious inability to help the repatriates raises the prospect that a humanitarian crisis will result.  In a nationwide address the night that the Regularization Plan registration expired, Dominican President Medina spoke of his intention to run for a second term, not about the wrenching experience some half-million persons in the country were about to face.  Taking on Haitian immigration is a popular way for Dominican politicians to pander to the electorate, drumming up support from the working class and reminding voters that the country once suffered under Haitian rule, from 1822-1844.  With the world watching, a Trujillo-era ethnic cleansing seems unlikely, but the fate of hundreds of thousands of Dominicans of Haitian descent hangs in the balance.  

June 22, 2015

*Emma Fawcett is a PhD candidate in International Relations at American University.  Her doctoral thesis focuses on the political economy of tourism and development in four Caribbean case studies: Haiti, Dominican Republic, Cuba, and the Mexican Caribbean.

Pension Reform: Uneven Progress

By Christina Ewig*

Two Women

Nathan Gibbs / Flickr / Creative Commons

Recent pension reforms in Latin America show promise for greater gender equity across the region, but progress remains uneven in coverage and generosity.  Since 2007, 13 countries have either introduced or expanded some form of non-contributory pension, offered to defined groups as a social right, while others have made reforms to their existing pension systems that specifically compensate for gender inequalities.  These reforms in several instances were conceived with the participation of gender equity advocates.

  • The introduction of non-contributory pensions has equalized pension coverage between women and men in the region, according to a comprehensive study by the Organización Iberoamericana de Seguridad Social.
  • The equalization of men’s and women’s retirement age in the Dominican Republic, Mexico, and Uruguay makes it easier for women to attain the minimum number of working years for eligibility for a minimum pension.
  • The use of gender-neutral mortality tables in Bolivia and a return to the state-run defined-benefit system that treats men and women equally in Argentina, are also improvements.
  • More innovatively, in the 2007 expansion of the non-contributory pension in Bolivia and the 2008 reforms of the traditional pension systems in Chile and Uruguay, women were given credit toward their pensions for children born or adopted, to compensate for time out of the labor market.

The need for such reforms is great globally and in Latin America.  Women face much greater risks than men of poverty in old age due to workplace discrimination and gender imbalances in family carework responsibilities – the “motherhood wage gap” – during their working years.  Women are employed in smaller numbers than men in the formal economy, and they are often concentrated in the lower-paid and less-stable informal sector.  Domestic workers, primarily women, are in a sector notorious for employers’ evasion of pension payments.  Women in Latin America are also more likely than men to be found among the ranks of the unemployed or partially employed.  When employed full time in the formal sector, they face a diminishing but still substantial wage gap, earning 17 percent less on average than similarly educated men, according to the Inter-American Development Bank.  While the original pay-as-you-go pension systems were based on a male-breadwinner model that envisioned women as “dependents,” the 1990s push toward pensions that relied entirely on individual earnings magnified the effects of these discriminatory employment contexts and carework imbalances.  Moreover, in the individual capital account model, practices such as the use of differential mortality tables to determine monthly payments further reduced women’s income in old age, due to their greater expected longevity.

Despite the progress toward greater gender equity in pension policy, the issue deserves wider attention because advances have been uneven.  For example, while most countries in the region have adopted some form of non-contributory pensions, the percentage of the population eligible for these varies dramatically – as does the monthly payment.  Moreover, while the gap in pension coverage between men and women has narrowed, the compensation levels remain dramatically unequal.  Reforms, like those of Bolivia, Uruguay and Chile, that build-in compensation for market and carework inequalities deserve wider replication. 

February 26, 2015

*Dr. Ewig is Associate Professor of Gender and Women’s Studies and Political Science at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.  She is the author of Second-Wave Neoliberalism: Gender, Race and Health Sector Reform in Peru.

Private Security Filling a Void in the Dominican Republic

By Maribel Vásquez

Photo credit: Harry Pujols / Foter / Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic (CC BY 2.0)

Photo credit: Harry Pujols / Foter / Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic (CC BY 2.0)

Criminality and violence often translate into fear and institutional distrust in Latin American contexts – and give rise to private security companies (PSCs) that play an increasingly important role in public security with little or no civilian oversight.  In the Dominican Republic, for example, PSCs are proliferating as surveys indicate a widespread perception that the Ministry of Interior and Police (MIP) is woefully inadequate in scale and capabilities.  According to a study by the Latin American Public Opinion Project (LAPOP) and the UNDP in 2012, over 50 percent of Dominicans said that they believed that the National Police was involved in criminal or illicit activity. More troublesome, of all countries surveyed*, the Dominican Republic, with 64.8 percent, reported the highest percentage of people who believe that security is deteriorating in the country.

With such levels of public disorder and perceived police ineffectiveness, the Dominican Republic has experienced a boom in PSCs.  The Geneva-based Small Arms Survey in 2011 reported that PSCs employed 30,000 people in the Dominican Republic – and the number has surely grown since then.  The country has 29,357 formally registered police officers, yielding a ratio of 1.02 private security agents for each police officer.  Often, PSCs are better equipped in the country than security forces.  In the Dominican Republic, PSCs are under the jurisdiction of the Superintendence of Private Security (SPS), a branch of the armed forces – a fact that causes tension with the civilian companies and the police in whose jurisdiction they operate.  This absence of the MIP – the state institution directly responsible for citizen security – from the oversight process has inhibited coordination between the PSCs and the police, and diminished the government’s ability to provide public security.

The traditional definition of national defense in the Dominican Republic and other Latin America countries has included citizen security and entailed deep military involvement – and often abuses – in matters now considered best handled by civilians.  The continuing shadow of the Dominican military in security affairs has weakened the National Police.  President Danilo Medina last year deployed soldiers to patrol the streets alongside the police to combat crime.  Such practices make the police less legitimate in the eyes of the public – and further drive popular demand for PSCs.  Reforming the public security landscape in the Dominican Republic will require great political will.  More effective civilian participation in security affairs, through oversight and professionalization of the National Police, must take place to ultimately strengthen democratic accountability.  The PSCs should be brought under civilian control.  

*LAPOP-PNUD (2012). Countries surveyed: Argentina, Bolivia, Brasil, Chile, Colombia, Costa Rica, Ecuador, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, México, Nicaragua, Panamá, Paraguay, Perú, República Dominicana, Uruguay, Venezuela.

Dominicans of Haitian Origin: Foreigners in Their Native Land

By Maribel Vásquez

Haitian sugar cane workers in the Dominican Republic / Photo credit: ElMarto / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

Haitian sugar cane workers in the Dominican Republic / Photo credit: ElMarto / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

Nearly three months after the Dominican Republic stripped residents born to unauthorized migrants of their Dominican citizenship, the Constitutional Tribunal’s controversial decision remains the source of high tensions in the country. The ruling expanded on a 2010 amendment to the Constitution stating that children born in the Dominican Republic must have at least one parent with legal residency to be eligible for Dominican citizenship. The court has now determined that the ruling can be applied retroactively to 1929 – in effect leaving three generations of immigrants’ children in legal limbo. At an estimated 200,000, Dominicans of Haitian descent are the largest affected group. In recent years, they have already been denied identity documents, and officials have refused to return copies of their birth certificates, arguing that such births occurred while their parents were “in transit” and therefore did not meet the criteria for Dominican nationality.

International criticism of the ruling was immediate. Many critics have called it racist. After visiting the Dominican Republic earlier this month, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) released a highly critical report. The United Nations Higher Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) has also expressed concern that the court’s decision threatens to leave hundreds of thousands stateless. CARICOM has called on the Dominican Republic to “right this terrible wrong” and suspended its membership application. Caribbean leaders have expressed outrage.  Trinidad and Tobago’s Prime Minister, Kamla Persad-Bissessar, said the ruling created a “grave humanitarian situation,” and the former prime minister of Antigua and Barbuda, Lester Bird, said the ruling was “so absolutely racist that it’s almost pathetic.” The United States has kept an extremely low profile on the issue.

The tribulations of Haitians in the Dominican Republic date back to the country’s independence in 1844, after 22 years of Haitian occupation, during which tensions between Dominicans and Haitians were high. Since then, relations between the two peoples of Hispañiola have often been in turmoil, most notably when Dominican dictator Rafael Trujillo in 1937 issued orders that led to el corte – “the cutting” – that massacred over 30,000 Haitians along the border. The Constitutional Tribunal’s decision appears to reflect the tradition of anti-haitianismo that underlines Dominican national identity. It raises questions about the legal status of past political figures and surely excludes the living from political processes. Applied retroactively, for example, the ruling leaves former Santo Domingo mayor and three-time presidential candidate, José Francisco Peña Gómez stateless in death. While the prospect of another el corte is inconceivable for many of the now-stateless Dominicans of Haitian descent, incidents of violence against them have risen since the ruling – and activists have called the disenfranchisement of Haitian-Dominicans a “civil genocide.”