Welcome
This week we have a guest topic by Carl-Henri Boulos.
Protest Corner
On July 17, five years since the passing of Congressman John Lewis, there are “Good Trouble” events happening across the US. Beyond rallies and marches, they are also calling for service work and direct action training. The movement needs builders and this is one of many organizations offering training and support to learn how to build.
Topic #1: Ayiti
“The truth’s about to get loud.”
Kendrick Lamar said it best. And when it comes to Ayiti, the truth isn’t just loud—it’s been screaming for centuries. Screaming from the sugar fields of Saint-Domingue, from the fires of revolution, from the endless headlines that label Ayiti as “the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere”—but never ask why.
This is the story they don’t want you to hear. The story of a people who didn’t wait for freedom. They took it. And the world has punished them ever since.
The Spark Before the Revolution: Boukman and the Power of Unity
Before guns fired and battles raged, the Haitian Revolution began with a spiritual and symbolic rebellion—a call that echoed beyond the island. Boukman Dutty, an enslaved man born in Jamaica and raised by a Muslim family, arrived in Saint-Domingue carrying the legacy of the Maroons—escaped enslaved people who had already waged fierce resistance in Jamaica.
Boukman’s story wasn’t just rebellion; it was unity across cultures and geographies. Alongside a Vodou priestess Cecil Fatiman, a woman that always goes nameless, he led the Bois Caïman ceremony in 1791—a spiritual gathering that lit the fire for the largest and most successful slave uprising in history. This moment proved even the most brutal oppression could be shattered by bonds forged in shared struggle—people from different lands, religions, and backgrounds, united in freedom’s fight.
Boukman’s spiritual uprising laid the foundation for leaders like Toussaint Louverture, who fused this rebellious fire with revolutionary ideas sweeping the Atlantic. Educated in French Enlightenment thought and inspired by liberty, equality, fraternity, Toussaint blended Boukman’s legacy with radical French politics, transforming Ayiti’s struggle from a slave revolt into a disciplined fight for abolition and nationhood—shaking the colonial world to its core.
Jean-Jacques Dessalines carried that torch further, pushing Ayiti’s revolution beyond battlefields and into direct defiance of white supremacy. He declared Polish and Irish soldiers—many rebels against European oppression—as “Black” in the Ayitian sense, not by skin color but shared struggle against empire. This radical inclusion shattered racial hierarchies and built unity through resistance. Even after independence, Ayiti faced relentless assaults—from the Monroe Doctrine, CIA plots, American occupations, internal oligarchs, and corrupt leaders—but it endures. Its revolution remains a blueprint for radical defiance and a beacon worldwide, proving spiritual and political liberation together can defeat the strongest chains.
Ayiti’s Spirit: An Ongoing Revolution
Ayiti’s spirit stretches back beyond the Haitian Revolution—to the fierce resistance of the Arawaks and Taínos, the island’s first defenders against colonizers. It flows through Maroon fires, Boukman’s revolt, Toussaint’s blend of African resilience with French revolutionary thought, and Dessalines’ radical unity with Polish and Irish comrades. Ayiti’s revolution wasn’t just a war for one nation’s freedom—it posed a universal question: Why not here? Why not freedom here—for everyone and everything? This question echoes through Ayiti’s history of sabotage, invasions, and betrayals. And through it all, the answer remains—resistance, defiance, and the belief that freedom must begin here.
Kreyòl: The Language Forged from Fire
Ayiti’s resistance is not just written in blood and revolution—it’s spoken in its language. Ayitian Kreyòl is an act of rebellion and unity, born from colliding worlds. It blends tongues of the island’s first peoples—the Taíno, Arawaks, and other Indigenous groups—with African languages carried by the enslaved, layered with French and Spanish colonial tongues. Kreyòl emerged not as a conquest byproduct but a survival code, forged in fields, marketplaces, whispered prayers, and secret meetings. It became the common thread for enslaved Africans and Indigenous survivors to communicate, organize, and resist. To speak Kreyòl was to defy division, create something new from forced collisions, and claim identity against erasure.
Kreyòl doesn’t just tell Ayiti’s history—it burns with it. When asked how they’re doing, Haitians often say n'ap boule—literally, “we are burning.” To some, it’s casual slang for “hanging in there.” But it holds deeper truth: we are burning reflects Ayiti itself—a people abandoned by the world, punished for daring to be free. It recalls centuries of blockades, invasions, and propaganda painting Ayiti as cursed simply because it refused enslavement. The world let Ayiti burn, then blamed it for the flames, but we wear it with a badge of honor because we are still here.
Yet within those words lies resilience. Whether in joy or struggle, Haitians say n'ap boule—we’re burning, but enduring. Burning, but moving forward. Burning, and still smiling. Even if it’s a good day to die, we face it with unflinching resolve. This is Ayiti’s truth—spoken in a language forged from fire, still burning, still alive.
Resistance Today: Burning in the Present
Ayiti’s story of resistance is far from over. Today, Haitians still burn—literally and figuratively—navigating brutal new forms of oppression. Many face deportation and confinement in concentration camps, threatened with re-enslavement masked as “owner’s responsibility,” enforced by oligarchs and elites—corrupt farmers aligned with political power. These forces betray those who once fought to keep nations together—like Haitian soldiers in the American Civil War—only to discard and oppress them anew. This internal and external struggle echoes a long history of economic exploitation, political interference, and violent repression.
Meanwhile, in places like Washington, D.C., where a large Haitian diaspora lives, the fight continues amid systemic neglect and racial injustice. The same forces that tried to silence Ayiti’s revolution echo in halls of power, reminding us that freedom’s struggle—whether in Port-au-Prince streets or Capitol steps—is ongoing. The flame that began with Boukman’s ceremony and Toussaint’s leadership still burns, calling for unity, vigilance, and unyielding resistance. Ayiti’s fight is not just history—it’s a call to action now, demanding freedom truly begin here, for all. We burn because we must—and if we do not, the fire will consume us.
What Haitian Resistance Looks Like Today
Haitian resistance is ongoing, multifaceted, and deeply rooted in a legacy of liberation. It is not only about armed struggle or protest; it is about survival, culture, memory, and reclaiming dignity in the face of centuries of systemic exploitation, foreign intervention, and erasure.
Grassroots Organizing & Mutual Aid
Local communities in Haiti continue to resist through mutual aid networks, community farming, neighborhood patrols for safety, and organizing around land rights, clean water access, and education — often outside state structures that have failed or been co-opted.
Cultural & Spiritual Resistance
Vodou, music, storytelling, and language (Kreyòl) remain forms of resistance — preserving identity and autonomy. Saying “Nou la” (We are here) is a refusal to disappear, to be written off.
Youth Movements & Media
Young Haitians are using social media to document injustice, critique corruption, and organize protests. From #FreeHaiti campaigns to resistance against international interference, they’re shaping the narrative in their own voice.
Diaspora Activism
Haitian communities abroad fund schools, clinics, and send remittances, but also organize politically — lobbying against foreign policy that harms Haiti, and holding international actors accountable.
Rejection of Neocolonialism
Haitians continue to resist what they call the "Core Group": a set of foreign embassies and UN-type actors that interfere in Haitian political processes. Their rejection of imposed leadership (e.g., Ariel Henry) is a bold stand for self-determination.
“What Can “We” Do to Help?”
Whether you are part of the Haitian diaspora, a white ally, or specifically a white woman with privilege, here’s a framework:
1. Ask Who You’re Centering
Before acting, always ask: Are we centering Haitian voices, or our own sense of guilt or heroism?
Follow Haitian organizers. Listen more than you speak.
2. Shift Power, Not Just Provide Charity
Instead of just donating to large NGOs, support Haitian-led initiatives — small schools, clinics, farming co-ops.
Ask: Who’s in charge? Are Haitians in decision-making positions?
3. Acknowledge the Role of White Supremacy
Understand how the legacy of colonialism, the U.S. occupation (1915–1934), and current global capitalism shape Haiti’s suffering.
Educate your communities about how these systems persist.
4. Advocate, Don’t Impose
Use your voice to pressure governments and institutions (including the UN and U.S. foreign policy makers) to stop harmful interference.
Help elevate Haitian demands, not invent your own.
5. Interrogate Whiteness and Saviorism
For white women especially: recognize how colonial dynamics reappear through "helping" roles.
Ask yourself: Am I helping because it makes me feel needed, or because I’ve listened to what Haitians say they need?
6. Support Long-Term, Not Just in Crisis
Haiti becomes newsworthy only during disaster — but Haitian resistance is constant.
Commit to long-term solidarity, not momentary sympathy.
“Haitian resistance doesn’t need a savior. It needs space, solidarity, and sovereignty. If you’re truly listening, your job is not to lead, but to follow the lead of those who have been resisting for generations.”
Foundational Books on Haiti and Black Liberation
The Black Jacobins by C.L.R. James
Classic and essential. A revolutionary Marxist analysis of Toussaint Louverture and the Haitian Revolution.
Avengers of the New World by Laurent Dubois
A more accessible, narrative history of the Haitian Revolution, centering enslaved voices and agency.
Silencing the Past by Michel-Rolph Trouillot
Haitian anthropologist exposes how power shapes historical narratives. Excellent for understanding how Haiti is erased or vilified in Western memory.
Haiti: The Aftershocks of History by Laurent Dubois
Explores post-independence Haiti up to the modern day. Critical for understanding why Haiti’s present is shaped by its revolutionary past.
Critical Histories and Decolonial Frameworks
A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn
The U.S. through the lens of the oppressed. Essential to show how resistance is foundational to progress.
The Whole Picture: The Colonial Story of the Art in Our Museums & Why We Need to Talk About It by Alice Procter
The Australian-British historian deconstructs colonialism in museum curation. Perfect for exploring how empire shaped global knowledge and aesthetics.
Books on Race, Whiteness & Power in the Global Context
White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo
A starting point for white readers to reflect on defensiveness and complicity in systems of racial inequality.
Me and White Supremacy by Layla F. Saad
A workbook-style guide for white readers to confront privilege and engage in active anti-racism.
How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi
Clear articulation of systemic racism and the necessity of active anti-racist action.
Additional Resources by Haitians or Centering Haiti
Open Veins of Latin America by Eduardo Galeano
A poetic and political examination of imperialism’s legacy in the Caribbean and Latin America.
You Don't Know Me Until You Know Me by Courtney-Savali Andrews (with contributions on Haiti)
Personal, raw essays on identity, diaspora, and Blackness.
Aid State: Elite Panic, Disaster Capitalism, and the Battle to Control Haiti by Jake Johnston
A scathing, well-documented analysis of how “aid” became a form of occupation. A must-read for anyone who truly wants to help Haiti without reproducing colonial patterns.
Haitian Authors & Artists to Follow
Edwidge Danticat – Novelist and essayist whose work like Create Dangerously and The Farming of Bones give life to the Haitian spirit and struggle.
Kreyolicious (blog + podcast) – A cultural resource hub amplifying Haitian voices.
Some More News had a fantastic episode on Haiti too:
Closing Thoughts
“War and death to Tyrants!” this is my motto; “Liberty! Independence!” this is our rallying cry.”
-Jean Jacques Dessalines, “Liberty or Death! Proclamation,”
keep the push bby. nouveau libre
Lok'tar Ogar