From Toussaint Louverture and Dessalines to Today: The Trap of Eternal Power
From Toussaint Louverture and Jean-Jacques Dessalines to the present day, a similar logic of power seems to reproduce itself in Haitian political history: the infernal machine of power. It’s as if, once a man is invested with power, the seat beside his throne is immediately occupied by the devil himself, who becomes his main adviser, inspiring him to make the worst decisions. The leader then seems to lose all ability to hear the voice of reason, to discern good from evil, and to resist the temptations of power. He ends up acting, almost systematically, against the higher interests of the Nation, as if an invisible force were pushing him to destroy what he was tasked to build and fulfill.
This machine exploits the human weaknesses of the one who ascends to the summit of the State: greed, the thirst for privileges, personal ambitions, the fear of losing power, and above all, the desire to maintain it indefinitely. Gradually, it diverts the leader from his fundamental mission: to advance democracy and move the Nation forward. Instead of seeking compromise, contributing to the construction of solid institutions, and exercising transformational and unifying leadership, he ends up dedicating most of his energy to schemes aimed at securing his own permanence in power.
The infernal machine starts by deifying the leader, progressively locking him in the illusion of his invincibility, and ultimately leads to his downfall. Surrounded by courtiers who reinforce the feeling of being untouchable, the leader gradually loses his ability to decide in the national interest. His opponents become enemies to be eliminated. Worse still, his own allies, as soon as they refuse to submit to the logic of the machine, are perceived as traitors. Power then ceases to be an instrument of national transformation and becomes an end in itself. The preservation of the leader takes precedence over the preservation of the State.
But this logic carries within it the seeds of its own destruction. When discontent accumulates and revolts multiply, the leader, too focused on his political survival and insufficiently concentrated on the results expected by the population, fails to realize that he has progressively lost his support. He believed himself indispensable; he discovers that he has become isolated. His departure then becomes merely a question of circumstances.
The Leader’s Isolation: The Beginning of the End
Historian Claude Moïse illustrates this dynamic in his analysis of the ends of power in Haiti. Regarding Toussaint Louverture, he writes:
"Thus Toussaint Louverture went very far, but too far from his mass base, and far too far from the metropolitan power from which he got rid of the agents... He found himself at the head of immense, powerful, and solitary power, placed before the unknown of anxiety. Hence his need to reassure himself in the legitimacy of his work..."
As for Dessalines, he observes:
"Dessalines' policy ended up displeasing everyone: landless farmers, subjected to agrarian caporalism, owners restrained in their rush toward plantations... His historical role was over as soon as his economic and social policy could neither guarantee the cohesion of the factions of the Haitian oligarchy nor revive the hope of the masses of farmers."
In my work Ruptures & Compromis, Volume I, I had already established a parallel between the political destinies of Toussaint Louverture and Jean-Jacques Dessalines. I wrote:
"Evidently, the management of Jean-Jacques Dessalines was not too different from that of Toussaint Louverture, both in good and bad decisions, and the consequences should be no different, starting from the leadership model of the two leaders. This was the basis of their downfall, certainly, under different circumstances and ends: the former ended in prison, the latter assassinated."
Furthermore, I continued:
"Thus, by reproducing the errors of Toussaint Louverture, Dessalines unknowingly had already signed his death warrant."
Despite their exceptional achievements and fundamental differences, both leaders concentrated power and weakened their alliances, failing to maintain a lasting political consensus. Their divergent fates — death in prison for Toussaint, assassination for Dessalines — nonetheless reveal a common vulnerability: the isolation of the leader.
More than two centuries later, leaders change, circumstances evolve, but the infernal machine remains. Such is the paradox of personal power: as authority concentrates, the leader risks finding himself alone in the face of his destiny.
Haitian history demonstrates that attempts to eternize power have rarely achieved lasting success. However, two periods stand out as notable exceptions: that of Alexandre Pétion and Jean-Pierre Boyer, from 1806 to 1843, marked notably by the Constitutions of 1806, 1811, and 1816; and that of François and Jean-Claude Duvalier, from 1957 to 1986, amounting to twenty-nine years of power. More than a century separates these two experiences. Yet, in both cases, the first leader died in power, while his successor ultimately took the path of exile.
Why, two centuries after independence, does this trap continue to close around our leaders? And why do so many elites prefer to feed this logic rather than defend the collective interest?
When the Constitution Becomes the Enemy of Power
Haitian political history reveals another particularly concerning constant. At a certain moment in their reign, when leaders feel they have sufficiently consolidated their authority, they end up viewing the Constitution not as the foundation of their legitimacy, but as a constraint on their ambitions. To free themselves from it, some draft their own constitutional texts, like Toussaint Louverture in 1801 and Dessalines in 1805, in historically different contexts. Others seek to modify existing constitutions, to circumvent them or to interpret them according to the demands of their maintenance in power. This temptation runs through our history and is manifested even in the contemporary period.
The Constitution, which should protect the Nation against the excesses of power, thus becomes, in the eyes of the leader, an obstacle to be eliminated. Thus, the leader who believes himself indispensable ultimately places himself above the institutions, compromising his own legitimacy.
Breaking the Infernal Machine: Compromise and the Primacy of Institutions
Breaking this machine through integrative compromise therefore requires a paradigm shift: moving from domination by men to what we call the “dictatorship of laws and institutions.” This is obviously not a dictatorship in the authoritarian sense of the term, but a system in which no one, not even the head of state, can place themselves above the Constitution and the laws. The rule must apply to all and govern the leader, rather than allowing the leader to govern according to his own rules. It is this primacy of law and institutions that can protect the State against human weakness and allow Haiti to truly enter modernity.
However, the Constitution must be able to evolve with norms, customs, and the realities of Haiti, as well as with the transformations of our time. Any reform must, however, follow the procedures set forth by the Constitution itself: this discipline protects the State and the Nation against human weaknesses and personal ambitions.
The integrative compromise must break with the cult of the leader, ensure the continuity of the State, and place national interest above individual interests. The Constitution must evolve with the Nation, never at the whim of whoever governs it. This is how we can break the infernal machine of power in Haiti.
