Haiti Voting with Their Feet

By Jill Smolowe

A voodoo priest in the southern region of Grande Anse, famed for his clairvoyant powers, foresees blood in Haiti's immediate future. He is not alone. A young woman who identifies herself only as Monique has piled her four small children onto a crowded bus that is heading for the boondocks. Like many others who live in the slums that surround Port-au-Prince, Monique does not want to be anywhere near the capital city during the election scheduled this Sunday. "I'm disappearing," she whispers, her eyes darting to see if she has been overheard. South of the capital in the tiny port town of Miragoane, a doctor gives fuller voice to the fear: "It is only with bayonets they will get these people to vote."

The prognoses for Haiti's pending election vary, but none are promising. At best, the election will simply be called off. At worst, Haitians predict a bloodbath of the sort that brought last November's presidential contest to a halt just three hours into the balloting. Many Haitians are now forecasting that if Brigadier General Henri Namphy, head of the ruling junta, feels he cannot impose his choice of a President on the rest of the army, he will postpone or cancel the voting. From Port-au-Prince to Washington, virtually everybody seems to discount the possibility of a fair contest. Says a politician who ran for the Senate two months ago but refuses to participate this time: "There is nothing certain about these elections except that they will be a sham."

Certainly, voters will not be offered the full range of presidential candidates. The opposition's four leading contenders, who were expected to take 80% of the vote last November, are refusing to participate. Instead, they have called for an election boycott that is supported by some 50 civic, religious and community associations throughout Haiti. Of the 22 candidates registered for the race, twelve were associates of the former Duvalier dictatorship; under the new constitution, that should prevent them from running for public office for a decade. All twelve were disqualified from the November contest. At the end of last week Namphy, in an apparent bid to lend the elections credibility, again sidelined the Duvalierist candidates. Namphy's personal favorite is Gerard Phillippe Auguste, a little-known agronomist who heads one of Haiti's oldest populist parties.

The legislative election promises to be even more of a farce. As of last week the newly seated election council, handpicked by Namphy, could not furnish the name of a single candidate for any of the 27 Senate or 77 Chamber of Deputy seats. Moreover, election conditions will hardly be democratic. Under a new electoral law, soldiers will be permitted to enter polling places, but independent observers and journalists will not. The new law also requires voters to show officials their marked ballots.

Both in Port-au-Prince and Washington, there have been calls for a multinational peacekeeping force to ensure fair and peaceful elections. But neither the Reagan Administration nor leaders of other Caribbean nations have embraced the proposal. Instead, Haiti's allies have voiced support for the elections, then adopted a wait-and-see attitude.

With reporting by Bernard Diederich/Miami