TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/caps/86/86capts.20

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                                                                                February 17, 1986

HAITI

End of the Duvalier Era


Baby Doc slips away to France to avoid a bloodbath at home


As the minutes ticked away, the knot of American diplomats
waiting on the darkened runway of Francois Duvalier
international airport grew increasingly edgy. They had been
keeping a tense vigil since 1 a.m., waiting for Haiti's
President-for-Life Jean-Claude ("Baby Doc") Duvalier. A day
earlier, Duvalier had sent an urgent message to the U.S. embassy
in Port-au-Prince, the capital. It implored the Americans to
help him and his family flee the country that, after 28 years,
was no longer under their control. Now Duvalier was two hours
late. The Americans at the airport wondered if he had changed
his mind or if the furtive escape plan had been foiled by the
mounting opposition to his regime. Early-rising Haitians in the
area would surely spot the immense U.S. C-141 Starlifter cargo
plane that had flown from the Charleston, S.C., Air Force base
and was sitting on the runway at Port-au-Prince.

At 3:30 a.m. headlights pierced the darkness. A silver BMW
with Duvalier behind the wheel approached the runway. Beside
him sat his dazzling wife Michele. Later, the couple
unapologetically explained their tardiness: they had decided
at the last minute to throw a midnight champagne party at the
presidential palace to bid farewell to their closest friends.

Duvalier moved toward the military aircraft, pausing to bestow
a few words of thanks on the row of elite khaki-uniformed guards
who had protected him in the final months of his presidency.
Nearby, two grim-faced men, one in military uniform, one in
civilian dress, observed the Duvalier's departure. They were
members of the five-man junta to which the abdicating President
was passing the leadership of the country. The Air Force plan
took off at 3:46 a.m., carrying Duvalier, now an
ex-President-for-Life, out of Haiti for only the second time.
With him were his wife, his mother Simone, 72, four children
and 17 others, headed for France and, presumably, on to an
existence of pampered exile. As dawn broke over Haiti, an era
of darkness had finally ended.

Duvalier's secret departure set of a wave of explosive emotion
when it was announced on nationwide radio and television less
than four hours later. In a self-serving recorded message, he
told his countrymen, "I wish to go down in history with my head
held high and with a clean conscience. Thereore, I have decided
to trust the destiny of the nation to the power of the armed
forces of Haiti. I pray God protects this nation." To many of
Haiti's 6 million mostly impoverished people, Duvalier's
departure was the answer to their prayers.

The head of the newly appointed National Council of Government
was Lieut. General Henri Namphy, 53, the commander of Duvalier's
armed forces. In a five-minute television appearance, Namphy
affirmed that the council would make "a commitment to human
rights" but set no timetable for new elections. The other
military members o the junta: Colonels Max Valles and William
Regala, who held key positions in the Duvalier regime. The
civilians: Minister of Public Works Alix Cineas and Gerard
Gourgue, a founding member o the anti-Duvalier Haitian Human
Rights League. The council named Colonel Prosper Avril, a
former presidential aide-de-camp, as its counselor. Hoping to
return the country to order, the new rulers imposed a 2 p.m. to
6 a.m. curfew and appealed for calm.

That was asking too much. As the significance of the day's
events sank in, tens of thousands of people in Port-au-Prince
chanted jubilantly, "He flew away; he flew away!" Others
proclaimed, "Vive America!" and waved the Stars and Stripes as
well as banners of red and blue, the colors of Haiti's flag
before it was replaced in 1964 by Jean-Claude's fther and
predecessor as President-for-Life, Francois ("Papa Doc")
Duvalier.

All too quickly the joyful atmosphere turned ugly as roving
mobs tracked down Duvalier's henchmen. When one militiaman was
spotted, the frenzied crowd tore off his uniform. Protesters
throughout the capital called for "death to the Tonton
Macoutes," the secret police that had protected the Duvalier
family for 28 years. Terrified by the mob's fury, they tried to
hide inside their barracks. A reported claimed to have seen one
Tonton Marcoute, cornered by an angry crowd, shoot himself in
the head. At week's end as many as 75 people reportedly had
been killed.

Mobs of Haitians singled out monuments to the memory of Pap Doc
for destruction. At the Leogane traffic circle south of
Port-au-Prince, hundreds of people brought a commemorative
ironwork structure crashing down. At the national cemetery in
the capital, a mob tore apart the late dictator's
marble-and-granite mausoleum. Although bodies in nearby crypts
were disinterred, Pap Doc's remains were said to have been
removed to safety. The tin-roofed house on 22nd September
Street, where the elder Duvalier had once lived, was stoned and
set alight. Rampaging groups attacked properties owned by
Michele Duvalier's father Ernest Bennett, who had used his
government connections to make millions in coffee and imported
automobiles. The frenzy ebbed when sirens signaled the
approach of the curfew imposed by the new junta.

As a precaution, the U.S. embassy instructed the 6,000
Americans living in Haiti to stay indoors or keep a low profile
until political passions cooled. The aircraft carrier U.S.S.
America, en route to maneuvers in the Caribbean, was alerted in
case a sudden evacuation of U.S. citizens became necessary. In
the meantime, Haitians in the U.S. erupted in joyful -- and
occasionally destructive -- demonstrations in several citites.
In Miami's Little Haiti, many of the 60,000 Haitian refugees
jammed the streets and shouted, "No more Duvalier!" In Boston,
a group of revelers rampaged through the Haitian consulate,
destroying portraits of the ex-President. In New York City,
expatriate Haitians also relased pent-up emotions at a
demonstration on Saturday.

Around the world, reaction to the dramatic end of the Duvalier
dynasty was one of almost uniform relief. Said President
Reagan, hours after Duvalier had left and the new Haitian
government had been installed: "We're waiting for them now to
develop something to restore order." Declared Republican Senate
Majority Leader Robert Dole bluntly: "I'm glad he's gone. Good
riddance. I'm glad they had an airplane for him."

Indeed, it was the end of a bloody ear in Haiti's history.
Baby Doc's father Francois Duvalier was a soft-spoken
middle-class physician who encouraged Haitian peasants to
believe that he possessed magical powers through the use of the
country's folk religion, voodoo. Elected President in 1957,
Duvalier guaranteed liberty and well-being to all Haitians, but
the pledge soon rang hollow. Duvalier forbade criticism of his
leadership and declared himself President-for-Life in 1964. He
posed for a portrait that showed an image of Jesus Christ
clapping him on the shoulder.

To enforce his rule, Duvalier created the thuggish Tonton
Macoutes, Creole for bogeymen. Swaggering through the streets,
they terrorized the population, extorted money and tortured and
killed untold numbers. In January 1971, Papa Doc decreed that
his tubby son Jean-Claude, 19, would succeed him in the
presidency. Haitians were called to the polls to ratify the
succession of the moon-faced playboy, whose interests seemed to
revolve around women and fast cars. According to government
figures, Baby Doc won the plebiscite handily, 2,391,916 to 0.

Many thought the second-generation Duvalier lacked his father's
force and intelligence. Still, even as the country's living
standard sank progressively under his rule, there was little
indication that Jean-Claude might by overthrown. In 1980 he
married Michele, a divorcee with two children. Her
million-dollar splurges on clothes and diamonds soon came to
gall a country that could not even feed its people.

Baby Doc's grip began to falter last November when his security
forces opened fire on student demonstrators in the coastal town
of Gonaives. Three people were killed. The ensuring protests
added momentum to a rebellion among young Haitians who saw
little chance for improvement in their lives under Duvalier.
The opposition movement was supported by the Roman Catholic
Church, which since the 1983 visit of Pope John Paul II had
protested Duvalier's indifference to the country's squalor.
Last month a new wave of protests swept the country. Although
Duvalier's troops and police maintained control of
Port-au-Prince, much of the rest of the country was in open
revolt.

Jean-Claude had no stomach for an all-out campaign of
repressive violence to bring the country under control. U.S.
officials say he intended to leave Haiti early on the morning
of Jan. 31 and even got as far as the airport. The report
sparked rumors that he had fled the country and led White House
Spokesman Larry Speakes to announce, erroneously, that the
Duvaliers had departed. Differing accounts suggest that the
President either changed his mind and returned to the palace,
or was intercepted by the army.

For the next week Jean-Claude agonized over his decision while
the situation around him deteriorated. His mother wanted to
stay, while his wife favored going abroad, where the Duvaliers
could live as they pleased on the $400 million they reportedly
have stashed away in bank accounts.

At Michele's insistence, Duvalier last Monday mortored through
Port-au-Prince with his wife at the wheel of a white Jeep.
Sharpshooters crouched on rooftops along the route. When Baby
Doc returned to the palace, he complained, "It was a
masquerade. Without all that security, my life would not have
been worth a gourde" -- Haitian currency worth about $.20.

He was secretly preparing for other contingencies. The U.S.
embassy in Port-au-Prince had shared its stark assessment with
the Haitian leader: without resorting to "repression and
violence," his regime could not survive. After meeting with
officials from nearby Jamaica, the President-for-Life agreed to
depart on Wednesday but quickly had to renege. Reason: the
Greek, Spanish and Swiss governments had all rebuffed the
Duvalier family's requests for asylum. Two African countries,
Gabon and Morocco, also said Duvalier would not be welcome.

As potential sites of refuge dwindled, Jean-Claude moved to
break a growing protest by some 150 leading store owners in
Port-au-Prince. Roving bands of Tonton Macoutes wrote down the
addresses of shuttered businesses and rousted proprietors from
their homes. The strong-arm tactic worked. Shop doors swung
open gradually, and by Thursday the city had resumed commercial
activity.

The final straw for Duvalier may have been his anxiety over the
annual pre-Lenten carnival that was to begin this week. For
Haitians, the three-day Mardi Gras festival is a time of
orgiastic release, when they can momentarily forget their cares.
Ordinarily Bab Doc would have joined in the festivities, but
a boycott of the carnival called by his opponents was gathering
momentum. The President, sniggered residents of Port-au-Prince,
would be the laughingstock of a carnival to which no one came.
On the other hand, any crowds that did form would be a danger
to his regime.

On Thursday at 2 p.m., Duvalier told the American embassy, "I
want to go out, and I need help to get out." Within four hours
a plan had been approved in Washington. Duvalier was told that
he and his entourage should be ready to leave at 2 a.m. Friday.
He agreed. Said one of those invited to the Duvalier's risky
coup de champagne in the palace: "They were both in high
spirits. It was gay and filled with laughter. No tears."
Meanwhile, France had agreed to give Duvalier's entourage
temporary entry, while making it clear that permanent exile in
the country was out of the question. When the couple finally
boarded the C-141, they carried only one suitcase apiece. Nine
hours earlier, an Air Haiti cargo plane loaded with the family's
wealth, inlcuding Michele's priceless wardrobe and jewelry
collection, had left the country.

By the time the Air Force plan touched down at Grenoble, the
popular French ski resort was swarming with security forces and
journalists. The Haitian entourage when to an 11th century
Benedictine monastery that has been converted into a hotel.
While they rested and dampled the hostelry's luxurious cuisine,
the French government was reportedly trying to persuade several
so far reluctant African countries to offer Duvalier sanctuary.
For Baby Doc the good life continued -- at east for the time
being.


By John Moody. Reported by Dean Brellis/Port-au-Prince and
Bernard Diederich/Miami.