Perez tells her niece to bring the boys up the mountain

Jeanne Perez published a letter to her niece in the September 1936 issue of La Voix des Femmes, the paper of the Ligue Feminine d'Action Sociale. The letter is built around a climb to the Citadelle, the fortress Henry Christophe raised on a mountain in the north, and it dwells on the weight of the stone and on what the walk costs a body. The exhaustion was the argument. A young woman who has hauled herself up to that wall has some idea what the founding generation spent, and she will be slower to let the country coast on their account. Then Perez widened the invitation. The niece was to bring her sons along. Boys and men were to be humbled by the same dream and made to climb the same road. Care, memory and belonging were the political work Perez was describing, and she refused to let that work be filed as women's business alone.

The sharp increase in Jewish immigration into Palestine between 1933 and 1936 hardened Arab opposition to the Balfour Declaration and produced strikes, bloodshed and then open rebellion that lasted from 1936 to 1939. Serious disturbances broke out on 19 April 1936, and on 7 August a royal commission was appointed to establish the underlying causes and to determine whether either Arabs or Jews had legitimate grievances under the terms of the mandate. The commissioners reported on 22 June 1937 that partition was the only method they could propose for dealing with the root of the trouble, on the principle that half a loaf beats none. The Woodhead Commission sent out in 1938 found no workable partition scheme, and the White Paper of 1939 was a further British attempt at a settlement. The mandate ended on 15 May 1948 and the war followed at once.

For three days and nights beginning 2 October 1937, Trujillo's forces killed Haitians along the Dominican frontier. Estimates run from fifteen thousand to twenty thousand. The border river is the Massacre, named in 1728 for the killing of a band of boucaniers by Spanish colonists, so the place had the name two centuries before it earned it again. Machetes were used rather than rifles so the state could describe it as a spontaneous act by Dominican farmers. The parsley test, making people say perejil to catch a Kreyòl speaker's r, is remembered because it turned language into a death sentence. Haiti eventually accepted a settlement of about thirty dollars a head, of which very little reached any family. I want the two facts adjacent: a river already named for a massacre, and a payment of thirty dollars per person. Both are things a state chose.

The river dividing Ouanaminthe from Dajabon has been called the Massacre since 1728, when Spanish colonists cut down a party of French buccaneers on it. Beginning on 2 October 1937 the Dominican army and national police spent three days and nights killing Haitians along that river and as far off as Samana Bay, Barahona and San Pedro de Macoris. Heinl puts the dead at fifteen to twenty thousand. Orders specified clubs and machetes over rifles, so that nothing recovered from a body would point at the state, and at Santiago the killing squads worked in shifts as their arms tired. Men were marched down the customs wharf at Montecristi and clubbed into deep water. Others were told they were boarding ships for Haiti. There were no ships. President Vincent said nothing until 9 October. Trujillo settled in January 1938 for 750,000 dollars, thirty a head, then talked it down to 525,000 in cash. Survivors received about two cents each. A good pig sold for thirty dollars that year.