A major in the palace basement holds back the bullets

On 4 December 1937, two months after the massacre, about a hundred Haitians and Dominicans crossed into Haiti and took Thomonde, twenty miles inside the country, chasing off the corporal and three soldiers posted there before pulling back across the line. Ten days later the same band, now two hundred strong, hit Hinche, where the Garde had the strength to fight and to chase them to the border. Their leader called himself General Excellent Desrosiers, one of several Haitian exiles Trujillo was sheltering. The revealing part happened in Port-au-Prince. Colonel Calixte, who commanded the Garde, ordered a mobile company north, and Major Armand refused to release ammunition from the palace basement, stalling the column for forty-eight hours until Calixte went to the president in person. Armand was a relative of President Vincent. He had built the Presidential Guard into a private force of 550 picked men and held the heavy weapons and the ammunition reserve. The army had two commanders and one of them had the keys.

American troops had been in Haiti since 1915, and Jackson traces the black American response through the whole period, from Du Bois writing that the country was more civilised than Texas, through the protest of 1920 against the occupation, to the Pan-African Congress that Du Bois presided over in Paris in 1919. The withdrawal did not end the literary consequences. Langston Hughes had described the country for New Masses in 1931 as a small tropical place of mountains and sea, marines, mulatto politicians and a world of black people without shoes, while calling the Citadel a splendid monument to the genius of a black king, and his poem of 1932 argued that conditions would be the same for black people everywhere until black workers united. The occupation also produced a wave of sensationalist American fiction and travel writing.

Madeleine Sylvain's father had campaigned for Haitian sovereignty and the country had followed him. Her own campaign for women's rights drew almost no attention, and where it was noticed people treated feminism as something shipped in from Europe or North America. One critic wrote that equality between the sexes was a chimera and would never become real. The Ligue Feminine d'Action Sociale answered in print. In October 1935 it issued the first number of La Voix des Femmes, the first newspaper in Haiti run by women with a declared purpose of covering women's political and intellectual lives. By February 1936 the editors had found their footing. The paper carried political editorials, foreign affairs, and above all historical and sociological essays about women. Its ethnographic reporting was the unusual part. Roumain and Price-Mars had written about peasant life, but nobody had yet put the daily existence of peasant women in front of a national readership. Printing those lives beside the lives of city women made the shared parts visible.

In June 1933 René Piquion began publishing his translations of Langston Hughes in the literary journal La Relève. Hughes was the most widely read poet of the Harlem Renaissance, a writer who used the rhythms of the blues and the speech of working people and refused the polite subjects expected of Black writers in the United States. Piquion put him into French for Haitian readers at a moment when Haitian writers were arguing about that exact question, whether a literature should be built from the language and life of the majority or from European models. Translation was the argument conducted in practice. Hughes later visited Haiti and knew Jacques Roumain, whose novel Gouverneurs de la rosée he would translate into English after Roumain died. The traffic ran in both directions across the water. A generation of Black writers in two countries held by the same American power were reading, translating and answering one another.