A Port-au-Prince paper counts ten years of resistance

On 1 December 1921 the Port-au-Prince journal Le Courrier Haitien devoted an issue to ten years of the fight for liberty against foreign rule. The paper had become a gathering point for the nationalist organisations pressing for the immediate withdrawal of the American marines who then governed Haiti in all but name. The word immediate carried the argument. Washington's position was that it would leave once Haitian finances, roads and constabulary reached a standard American officials would set and American officials would certify, a date nobody in Washington ever named. The nationalist press refused that bargain in principle. A journal was cheap to produce and it circulated among the lawyers, teachers and civil servants of the capital, which made it one of the few instruments of public argument still working in a country whose legislature had been dissolved and never recalled. Keeping a printed count of the years was itself a tactic. It held the occupation to be dated, provisional and answerable at a moment when the Americans were behaving as though they had always been there.

The assembly elected in 1923 opened on 11 August, ratified the Lausanne treaty, and in October made Ankara the capital. On 29 October it amended the constitutional act passed two years earlier, and the country became a republic. The presidency went to Mustafa Kemal. Ismet Pasha took office as the first prime minister under the new arrangement. The change followed from the principle of national sovereignty that the assembly had claimed since 1920, and it began a new ideological direction. The nationalism of the war of liberation had grown out of populist ideas and religious loyalty and had served to fix the territory. The nationalism that came after the republic aimed to rebuild the state on a secular western model. From this point the words Turk and Turkey appear in the leaders' speeches in a national sense where they had previously carried a religious one, and pan Islamism and pan Turanism were both discarded.

When sleeping sickness spread, administrations in Nyasaland and Tanganyika moved entire populations out of the infected districts. The land left behind became the game parks the tourist industry now sells, which is the whole colonial arrangement in one object. Colonial rule and the global market had deepened the environmental crisis and imported new diseases. The same rule then reversed part of the damage, clearing bush for commercial farming, controlling game and pushing the tsetse fly back. European medicine treated old diseases along with the ones Europeans had carried in. Colonial roads and railways could in principle move relief to a district where the harvest had failed faster than anything before them. Africans across the continent found their capacity to manage their own affairs cut down by the system, and the same system opened commercial and eventually political ground. From the 1920s onward fertility rose, the rains steadied and the population of Africa began the climb it has not stopped. The recovery is usually credited to the pax colonia. It was accomplished by the people who lived through it.

Forty-five days after the ambush that killed Lieutenant Muth, a peasant told the marines where Batraville was sleeping. At daybreak on 19 May 1920 patrols closed on the rocks at the top of Morne Ti Bois Pin, five miles southeast of Lascahobas. The cacos fired first. An automatic rifle cut Batraville down, still carrying the binoculars taken from Muth, and a sergeant shot him with a pistol as he tried to rise and draw. Armed caco resistance ended there, and so did the presidential hopes of Dr Bobo, the mulatto physician for whose ambitions a great many peasants had paid. Marines and gendarmerie together lost 98 killed and wounded across the whole war. Caco dead are counted differently by everyone. A conservative figure for 1915 to 1920 is 2,250. Hans Schmidt put it at 3,250. Roger Gaillard asked whether the total, counting repression and the after effects of the fighting, might approach 15,000, and said the war often resembled a massacre. Not a shot was fired south of the Cul-de-Sac.