Haiti and Santo Domingo finally agree where the border is

Louis Borno and the Dominican president Horacio Vasquez met in January 1929 and settled on a boundary both governments could accept. The frontier had been in dispute since the Dominicans broke away in 1844, and for eighty-five years the argument had produced invasions, diplomatic crises and a steady supply of mutual suspicion. The agreement drew 224 miles of line, taking the Dajabon river as the northern division and, at the far southern end, the Pedernales. Further adjustments through the 1930s pushed Haitian territory outward in the centre, around Hinche. Drawing the line was real work and it was worth doing. It also left untouched everything that made the border dangerous: two populations divided by language and religion since the colonial period, an economic gap that pulled Haitian labour east into Dominican cane, and a Dominican elite that had built its self-image on not being Haitian. Eight years later Rafael Trujillo sent soldiers into the border provinces to kill Haitians by the thousand.

Half a million black Americans had already left the rural South for northern factories during the First World War. When Congress choked off European immigration in 1924, northern industry needed new hands, and by the end of the decade another million African Americans had left the old slave states for the Northeast and the upper Midwest, along with about half a million Mexicans, who were exempt from the new quotas. They found work in metal shops, car plants and packing houses. Only about a hundred thousand black Americans lived west of the Rockies. The political effect showed in 1928, when the Chicago alderman Oscar De Priest became the first black member of Congress since Reconstruction and the first ever from a northern district. The same quota law and the same factory demand shaped where Caribbean migrants could go in these years.

Growing for export did not make African villages rich. Households had to divide their land between food and cash crops while imported European manufactures undercut whatever they might have made themselves. Farmers set neither the price of what they sold nor the price of what they bought, and by the end of the 1920s a handful of European firms, the enormous United Africa Company chief among them, controlled the West African import and export trade. Between the wars the terms moved steadily against the grower. In the 1930s farmers had to plant more of the export crop and less food simply to meet the tax, which exhausted soil and produced famine, as in Niger in 1931. Growers organised. In 1929 Igbo women in Nigeria attacked the offices of the trading companies over falling export prices, and dozens died in what is remembered as the Women's War. Gold Coast cocoa farmers held their crop back until the price should rise, and the firms bought elsewhere and waited for the tax collector to do their work.

France governed Lebanon and four Syrian states from 1920 to 1943 under a League of Nations mandate that obliged it to publish annual accounts. Those reports have been reassembled into comparable budget series. In 1928, once the cost of the Armee du Levant is counted, 74 percent of everything the mandate spent went to administration, the judiciary and security. Education took 3.8 percent and health 1.5 percent. Infrastructure and support for production took 15.6 percent. In French North Africa the same categories ran at 9.1 percent for education, 6.7 for health and 49.8 for infrastructure. Schools and clinics in Lebanon were left to missionaries and private bodies, which produced a system that served Christians well and left the Muslim population badly short. I keep this on a Haitian timeline because it is the same arithmetic Haiti met from the other side: money raised locally, spent on the apparatus that raised it, and gone.