December 1944 lets children born outside marriage inherit land

Between the wage law of January 1944 and the repeal of the marriage tax in January 1945 the Haitian legislature amended the civil code. The December 1944 amendment authorised legal research into a child's paternity and gave children born outside marriage the same rights as children born inside it, including the right to inherit land. Before that, a birth registered as illegitimate shut the child out of the estate for good. In a country where most partnerships were plasaj rather than civil marriage, the old rule disqualified a very large share of the population from inheriting the ground their own families farmed. Elie Lescot's interest in plasaj ran to legitimacy and what legitimacy did to property, which is why the amendment sits where it does in the sequence. The word illegitimate had been doing the work of a restriction on a deed, attached to a person instead of to a parcel of land, and after December 1944 it no longer did.

African soldiers fought a long way from home. Troops raised in the French and British territories were in Italy from 1943 to 1945, and British commanders used African regiments heavily in Burma, the campaign that got called the forgotten war. By 1945 more than three hundred and seventy thousand Africans were serving in British forces alone. Many came out of it with a sharper sense of how the colonial system worked and where it sat in the world. Some professional soldiers were demobilised and settled quietly back into their villages. Others became organisers, agitators and party men in the years that followed. What the veterans brought back was firsthand. They had lived alongside Europeans of every class, had killed Europeans, and had watched European officers panic and retreat and fail. The claim that Europeans were a superior order of men did not survive that. Men who had been sent to defend empires that refused them citizenship came home knowing the thing could be broken, and knowing from four years of drill how to organise the men who would break it.

In May 1945 the Association Democratique Haitienne organised a memorial service in Harlem for Jacques Roumain, the Haitian writer and communist organiser. Earl Browder, then head of the Communist Party in the United States, spoke. The actor Canada Lee read a poem for Jacques Roumain that Langston Hughes had written for the occasion. The gathering made visible a community that had grown quietly. After the American marines left Haiti in 1934, Haitians who had relatives in Harlem, and women recruited to work as maids in wealthy white New York households, had joined people who emigrated earlier. Migration from Haiti to the United States is often told as three waves, the revolutionary period, the occupation and the Duvalier years, with nothing in between. The Harlem service belongs to one of those supposedly empty stretches and shows an organised political community inside it.

Dupuy closes his defence of Louverture's project with a comparison across a century and a half. France incorporated Martinique and Guadeloupe as overseas departments with full citizenship and elected legislative assemblies, ninety-eight years after abolishing slavery in those colonies. That is approximately the arrangement Louverture had sought in 1801, a self-governing territory inside the French polity whose inhabitants were citizens, with slavery and racial ranking dismantled but the economic link to France retained. Dupuy's point is that the proposal failed for reasons of its moment rather than of its logic. In 1802 slavery and white supremacy were indispensable to France, to its merchants and to its colonial planters, and were beyond Bonaparte's capacity to give up. Combined with mulatto hostility and with the Black nationalist demand for outright separation, that made Louverture's vision unworkable from the start.