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By DAVID ADAMS, Times Latin America CorrespondentEnough corruption. Enough chaos. New interim prime minister Gerard Latortue attacks the nation's horrendous and stubborn problems.
PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti - Armed rebels still roam parts of the country. Many police stations remain abandoned. More than 2,000 criminals who escaped from prison during a chaotic rebellion in February that brought down Jean Bertrand Aristide remain free.
The state electricity company is barely able to supply power for more than a few hours a day; piles of uncollected garbage lie everywhere; and most of the country's roads are riddled with potholes, some the size of ditches.
But allies of new interim prime minister Gerard Latortue say he's the right man for the gargantuan challenges facing this desperate nation of 8-million - even though he has spent most of the past 40 years abroad.
"He's a fixer, a guy who tries to mend things and find solutions by getting people together," said his longtime friend and finance minister, Henri Bazin.
For the second time in 10 years, a major international effort at nation-building is under way in Haiti. A U.N. military presence has helped restore relative stability, and donor nations already have pledged more than $1.4-billion. The United States has so far agreed to spend $240-million, with more in the pipeline.
For Haiti's people, most of them living on less than a dollar a day, it could be a last chance to make things work.
"We are at a crossroads. If history is repeated and we fail again, Haiti will cease to exist," said longtime peasant activist Chavannes Jean-Baptiste.
Such grim forecasts are not hard to find in Haiti these days. After its birth as the world's first black republic 200 years ago, the country's tumultuous history provides few reasons for optimism.
Haitians make an average income of only $361 per year and have an average life expectancy of 53 years, according to the World Bank. Half of the urban population has no access to safe water, and one in 20 is HIV/AIDS positive.
Both Latortue and Bazin spent much of their careers working in Africa for the United Nations and are eager to put their development talents to good use at home.
Both men have a reputation for scrupulous honesty. They share a simple vision, which Bazin defines bluntly as, "Enough is enough."
"Enough of people doing all kind of things for their own good, people using our money and the international community's money to line their own pockets."
While some Haitians may question the manner in which Latortue, 70, came into office, the government's evident good intentions have won it some breathing room.
"People all like and respect him," said Peter Hakim, president of Inter-American Dialogue, an independent Washington think tank. "He understands his role as an interim government (is) . . . not to build up a political following but to take the country from where it is and start repairing the most egregious humanitarian failures."
He won early praise for picking a Cabinet of capable technocrats, drawn from outside Haiti's political parties. Ministers had to sign a declaration of personal assets - a first in Haiti.
But time is short. As the head of an interim government, Latortue has less than two years to carry out his plans before new elections must be held. Critics joked that the portly Latortue - whose name means "the turtle" in French - is not known as a fast mover.
But the amiable economist is proving otherwise. His government quickly set about drawing up an economic reconstruction plan to present to foreign donors, led by the World Bank.
"It took us only 21/2 months," he said in a lengthy interview in the prime minister's office. "That's a record in the history of international cooperation."
By the end of August, a massive, nationwide program of repairing roads, schools and hospitals is due to begin. By the time a new government takes office in February 2006, Latortue says, "I'm sure they will have a completely different Haiti than the one I inherited."
The last aid program was initiated in 1994 after U.S. troops removed Haiti's military, which had seized power three years earlier. On that occasion they intervened to restore Aristide, a former priest who enjoyed a huge popular following, especially among the poor.
The Haitian military was disbanded. But political infighting and corruption paralyzed the government. Foreign donors suspended aid. During the 1990s Haiti slid deeper into poverty.
The international community was blamed for trying to impose a foreign blueprint on the country after 1994, ignoring Haitian realities. For example, the demand that Haiti open up its protectionist economy and reduce tariffs resulted in a flood of cheap imported foodstuffs. Unable to compete, local agricultural production collapsed, fueling greater unemployment in an impoverished countryside.
Latortue says things are being done differently this time, demanding that Haiti gets more of a say in decisions of how to spend the money. "International cooperation only works when countries identify their own needs," he said.
In fact, donors have been so impressed by the government's seriousness that they have so far pledged more money than Haiti was actually asking for. The United States is the largest donor but major contributions are also expected from France, Canada and the European Union.
Even so, critics are concerned that Latortue has not done enough to seek local input.
"We are worried about what is being cooked up in Washington," said Jean-Baptiste, the peasant activist who complained he was not consulted despite leading the largest peasant group with 200,000 members. "The international community will never defend the interests of the Haitian people. They will always use us as a marketplace. They see us as 8-million mouths to feed."
Down at the wharf last week in Cite Soleil, a sprawling seaside slum in the capital, men loaded a boat with 100-pound sacks of "extra fancy" long grain U.S. rice, bearing the Statue of Liberty.
Other cargo included brown sugar from Colombia and imported vegetable oil.
"Everything we eat comes from abroad," said Jean Ronald Registre, a local Cite Soleil activist. "Look, it's all foreign."
The government's plans to stimulate agriculture remain vague. Instead, it hopes to create new factory jobs in the capital thanks to legislation making its way through Congress that would eliminate U.S. duties on clothes and shoes made in Haiti.
Latortue defends the consultation process, insisting there was no time to invite everyone to join in. "We were in a hurry," he said.
Now that plans have been drawn up and funds secured, experts warn, the real job begins. Implementing projects is the hardest task in a country like Haiti, where infrastructure and logistics can be a nightmare.
For all the international goodwill, there is still disagreement over how problems should be addressed in some critical areas. Among those is the energy sector, where foreign donors are reluctant to sink money into the state-run electricity company, a notorious nest of corruption.
"Here in Washington a nice, glowful picture is being painted, but there are some pretty serious cracks in the facade," said Robert Maguire, a Haiti expert at Trinity College in D.C.
Security remains a major headache. The U.S. troops who came in immediately after Aristide's departure then left after three months. For the first time a Brazilian general is leading the U.N. peacekeeping force.
The country's 6,000-strong police force fell apart during the February rebellion. Training of new recruits has barely begin.
In Cite Soleil, residents fixed up the police station after it was destroyed in February. But it sits empty. Last week its only occupant was a lone goat squatting in the shade of the porch.
Political violence has died down. With Aristide now exiled in South Africa, his Lavalas Family party is in disarray. Corruption had eaten away at the party for years. Many of its brightest leaders had already deserted the party. Others are in hiding or have left the country. Former prime minister Yvon Neptune is in jail for his alleged role in a massacre of 50 people during Aristide's final days.
Without Aristide, his gangs of enforcers, known as the "chimeres," have turned to organized crime to sustain themselves.
The rebel army that helped topple Aristide in February is also no longer much of an organized force. But holdouts have refused to turn in their weapons and angrily complain that the government has locked them out.
"Let the international community help build schools and hospitals, but we can take care of security," said Ravix Remissainthe, one of the rebel military chiefs who turned up to an interview with a dozen heavily armed men.
Slapping his 9mm revolver on the table, he attacked the United States for thwarting the rebels' plans to reconstitute the Haitian army, disbanded by Aristide in 1994.
"If the Americans really want to help Haiti, they should train a new army," he said.
But the rebels are themselves split these days. Some have disarmed, including the dashing ex-police chief, Guy Philippe, who acted as the rebel spokesman in February. He sounds less confrontational now and has formed a new political party.
He hasn't altogether abandoned his former comrades. "Whether you like it or not, those guys saved the country. I think we owe them," he said.
Latortue has given the remainder of the rebels until Sept. 15 to disarm. He hopes some can be integrated into the new police. He believes patience will win in the end.
For now he doesn't have much choice, as most of the 5,000-strong U.N. force has yet to arrive. They should reach full strength by early September.
Latortue's critics wonder if the lifelong bureaucrat can really understand Haiti's problems.
Like many Haitians of his generation, Latortue left the country in the early 1960s under the ruthless dictatorship of Francois "Papa Doc" Duvalier. He returned briefly in 1987 to serve as foreign minister during a short democratic interlude before the military seized power.
Despite working overseas, mostly in West Africa, he insists he never lost touch with home. Before returning to the country, he was living in Boca Raton and commuting to a Haitian TV station in Miami as the host of two one-hour talk shows discussing Haitian affairs.
He says his experience abroad also helped him see Haiti in a new light. "I saw the problems from outside and I came to solve them with new eyes," he said, "eyes that are looking for reconciliation and modernization."
Not used to a politician who works long hours and seeks no self-enrichment, Haitians indeed appear to be gaining confidence in their new leader. Some have already begun commenting that it's a shame he can't stay on longer.
To read previously published stories and photographs from the crisis in Haiti, go to www.sptimes.com/haiti