Berkley Center

One of the most striking things about coming to the Dominican Republic was witnessing and learning about how Dominicans interact with their Haitian neighbors. Obviously, this is a highly complicated issue and it would be foolish to make hasty generalizations, but, unfortunately, it is safe to say that anti-Haitian racism is highly prevalent in Dominican society. You can see traces of this in various places: actual interactions between Dominicans and Haitians, popular attitudes towards Haitian immigration, and government treatment of Haitians and their descendants living in the country.

To understand in greater depth the reasons behind anti-Haitian discrimination, it is necessary to take a bit of a historical detour. Shortly after the Dominican Republic declared its independence from Spain in the 1820s, Haiti took over and controlled the entire island for 22 years. When the Dominican Republic finally declared its independence in 1844, it became independent from Haiti, not from Spain. The Dominican Republic has yet to recover from the Haitian occupation. During the infamous, brutal dictatorship of Rafael Leonidas Trujillo (1930-1961), anti-Haitianism became a lasting and powerful ideology. Dominicans defined themselves in opposition to their Haitian neighbors. The ideology of this era, which continues to influence Dominican society, rejects everything Haitian as inferior. And although Dominican society itself is ethnically and culturally quite diverse, Dominicans tend to reject outright any recognition of or allusion to their African ancestry. Many Dominicans even continue to deny the existence of slavery in the country'’s history in order to avoid admitting to the presence of an African heritage in the Dominican gene pool. Here, being black is associated with being Haitian.

One of the most interesting manifestations of this rejection of “blackness” and Haitians is the Dominican driver'’s license or identification card. On these cards, there is an entry space for “skin color.” Here, the government refers to black Dominicans as indio. Depending on the darkness of the person’'s skin, he or she can be referred to as indio oscuro (dark), indio lavado (medium), or indio claro (light). These categories show the rejection of any recognition of African ancestry. By claiming the term indio, Dominicans attempt to link their ancestry to the taínos, the indigenous population that was completely wiped out shortly after Columbus arrived on the island. In reality, there is no taíno heritage or presence in the Dominican Republic, while the African heritage is in fact quite recognizable and strong.

The Dominican government bears a great part of the blame for fueling —or, at the very least, permitting— anti-Haitian discrimination. Some say that the situation between the two countries is improving, especially considering the Dominican Republic’'s rapid response to the devastating earthquake in January. But Haitians within the Dominican Republic and their descendants are often treated in a very different way. The problem of anti-Haitian sentiment and neglect is perhaps most visible in the sugarcane industry. Communities called bateyes, dating back to the 1920s, are principally made up of Haitian immigrant workers and their families. These sources of cheap labor are often denied basic services. Health, water, electricity, and education services and infrastructure are virtually nonexistent in many of these rural outposts, and poverty is crippling. There is also a growing concentration of Haitians in the capital and other cities. I have been working in a neighborhood called Little Haiti in Santo Domingo and have seen firsthand the extremely poor living conditions in the community. The Dominican government has virtually no stake or interest in improving the situation of the people living in the area.

The legal conundrum of many Haitian immigrants and their descendants also testifies to the anti-Haitian ideology codified in Dominican law. Although many Haitian workers come here legally with Haitian passports and Dominican tourist visas, they often outstay their welcome. When their documents expire, they are often unable to renew them. There have also been many documented cases in which Dominican authorities have confiscated and/or destroyed Haitians'’ documents. Forced, collective deportations and expulsions of Haitians, Dominicans of Haitian descent, and people who “look Haitian” are carried out frequently, in clear violation of international law and human rights standards.

There is also a growing problem of statelessness, particularly among people of Haitian descent. A clause written into the new Dominican constitution denies Dominican nationality to children born to people “in transit” within the Dominican Republic. Although this is explicitly meant to refer to people who are in the country very temporarily or diplomats and their families, it is also interpreted to refer to Haitian migrant workers, in practice. Many of these workers have been in the Dominican Republic for years. Their children have never seen Haiti and lack Haitian documentation. But because of their Haitian heritage, they are denied Dominican nationality, although it is their birthright. Thus, there are a growing number of stateless people in the country. This is an especially huge and tragic problem, because without documentation, these children are more or less unable to receive a formal education. They are also subject to random, forced deportation to Haiti.

The racism and anti-Haitianism present in Dominican society is a real tragedy, and one that is particularly noticeable to North American visitors to the country. I don'’t mean to suggest that American society has magically become a utopia of equality. However, the Civil Rights Movement at home has certainly reached a much more advanced stage than it has here. I’'m not sure exactly what impetus Dominicans need to recognize Haitians as human beings, but I hope it happens soon.