PORT-AU-PRINCE,
Haiti, May 4 - The pile of garbage behind the spot where Marie Joseph sells tins
of tomato paste started out small, the usual primordial goo that coats this grimy
capital’s streets, binding a putrid mélange.
But
in the two months since President Jean-Bertrand Aristide, Haiti’s democratically
elected leader, was forced from power by an armed rebellion, the pile has swelled
like a rapacious tumor.
"I
have never seen anything like this," Ms. Joseph said last week, squatting near
the 12-foot-high pile, wrinkling her nose at the stench beneath a pair of gold-rimmed
bifocals. "How can we live like this ?"
Difficult
as it may be to believe, people here say, life in the poorest nation in the hemisphere
has gotten worse in the past two months.
Mounds
of garbage choke the streets. Electricity in the capital has been scarce for weeks.
The police force has fallen deeper into disarray, and crime has spiked, including
a rash of kidnappings aimed at wealthy businesspeople. The price of rice, the
Haitian staple, has doubled in some parts of the country.
A
senior Western diplomat said the biggest concern was that the interim government,
led by Prime Minister Gérard Latortue, will face mass unrest over the deteriorating
conditions, which could reignite violent clashes between Aristide supporters and
rebels, who still occupy large swaths of the country despite the presence of 3,600
foreign troops.
Other
than small, symbolic transfers, supporters of the former president and the rebels
have both clung steadfastly to their weapons. If violence flares, the diplomat
said, the government might not survive the next two or three months.
"The
international community needs to help this government, we need to get monetary
support to them yesterday," the diplomat said. If this government does not survive,
it is not clear what comes after.’’
But
international help has been slow to arrive. The United States-led force here is
to hand over the job of stabilizing Haiti in June to a United Nations force of
about 8,000 troops led by Brazil. The brevity of the United States military commitment
and the molasses-slow trickle of aid have led many people here to conclude that
this decade’s effort to rebuild Haiti will be even less successful than
the United States effort in the 1990’s.
Skeptical
Haitians view the unelected government and its foreign backers with a suspicion
as brittle as the clay biscuits they now eat.
"No
one has ever done anything for us," said Pierre Charlestin, 24, who lives in a
grim shantytown that sprang up a decade ago on the grounds of Fort Dimanche. "Why
should we expect anything different now ?"
Officials
and supporters of the former president’s party, Lavalas, say the new government
is persecuting them. The party has delayed appointing a representative to the
council that will organize elections next year, a delay that could block a crucial
step to restoring democracy in Haiti.
Playing
on his name, which means "turtle" in French, Prime Minister Latortue acknowledged
late last month at a donors’ conference that his government’s pace
had been slow.
"Some
say the turtle goes slowly," Mr. Latortue said. "I need you to help us go
surely."
Today
he faces an exhausted treasury, a vast corrupt and demoralized state work force,
wary international donors and lingering doubts about the manner in which Mr. Aristide
left the country.
American
officials, who provided the plane that took him into him into exile, say Mr. Aristide
left willingly to avoid bloodshed. Mr. Aristide has said his departure was
a "modern-day kidnapping."
To
many people here, Mr. Aristide remains the only legitimate leader they have.
"We believe in democracy, and we have a democratically elected leader," said Alix
Jean, a Lavalas partisan, at a recent rally at the church in La Saline, the slum
where Mr. Aristide once preached his fiery sermons of liberation. "His name
is Jean-Bertrand Aristide."
Flawed
legislative elections in 2000 led to the political deadlock that culminated in
Mr. Aristide’s ouster and the suspension of $500 million in foreign
aid. But the flow of cash that was expected once Mr. Aristide left has yet
to begin in earnest.
Officials
here say they desperately need money. The United Nations issued an emergency appeal
in March for $35 million but has collected just $9 million.
The
finance minister, Henri Bazin, said he discovered when he took the job last month
that the government had less than one month of foreign reserves in the bank and
that a $100 million deficit loomed.
"We
are faced with an impossible situation," Mr. Bazin said in an interview at
his office near the National Palace. "We need $100 million immediately, absolutely
right away, to do the bare minimum of what the government should be doing. But
we don’t know where that money will come from."
Mr. Latortue
left Tuesday for Washington, where he is to meet with Bush administration officials
and seek aid commitments. Another donor conference in June will start the flow
of aid, but diplomats worry the government cannot wait that long.
Officials
here have accused Mr. Aristide of looting the public treasury. A Western
diplomat who is investigating charges of corruption said the government’s
finances were in deep disarray.
"The
previous government took money from official accounts and used it for whatever
purpose suited them," this diplomat said. "They simply wrote checks, and the Central
Bank covered them by expanding the money supply."
Mr. Aristide’s
Miami-based lawyer, Ira Kurzban, said the former president never stole money.
"There may have been corruption at some level," Mr. Kurzban said. "But the
people at the top making decisions and using money, all of these people were honest."
The
national police force was decimated by last month’s armed rebellion ;
rebels set fire to police stations, killed as many as several dozen officers,
and looted their cars and equipment. "Our biggest problem right now is security,"
said Police Chief Léon Charles said in an interview. "But we have no resources."
Of
a 6,000-member force, as few as half its officers can be counted on to show up,
police officials said. A recent recruiting drive brought thousands of candidates,
who rioted as they waited to fill out applications ; a student was killed
in the stampede.
Privately,
ministers of the new government marvel at how Mr. Aristide was able to keep
Haiti’s government going.
Leslie
Voltaire, who was Mr. Aristide’s minister for Haitians living abroad,
said Mr. Aristide made the country work through sheer force of will. He likened
the country now to a heart-transplant patient.
"They
have removed the heart, Aristide," Mr. Voltaire said in an interview. "We
are now waiting on the operating table for a transplant, and the operation is
being done without anesthesia."
Haitians
who have suffered through decades of misrule say their patience with the interim
government is wearing thin. Derilus Joseph Érine, a 42-year-old mason who lives
in Cap Haitien, Haiti’s second largest city, warned darkly that dissatisfaction
could turn violent quickly.
"The
political leaders are trying to get their piece of the cake," Mr. Érine said.
"If we don’t get a piece of the cake, too, we are going to do whatever we
can to make the cake fall so at least we can pick up the crumbs."
