An ambassador is kidnapped and the palace arsenal catches fire

Just before Mardi Gras in 1973 three gunmen seized the American ambassador, Knox, and his first consul, demanding half a million dollars and the release of named political prisoners. Several of those names had not appeared on the list of political prisoners the government published weeks earlier. The French ambassador mediated. Twelve men came out of Fort Dimanche and flew to Mexico with the kidnappers and seventy thousand dollars, and an exile group in New York claimed the operation. In July the palace basement, where nearly all the country's ammunition was stored, caught fire. Explosions carried across the city. The government ignored Haitian firefighters who advised letting it burn and brought experts from the American base at Guantanamo, who put it out. Aid now depended on visible liberalisation, so before inspection teams arrived the government emptied cells at Fort Dimanche, painted them and installed soldiers three to a cell. In December Nixon signed a twenty-six million dollar aid package.

In the 1970s a man named Turenne Deville was held by the United States Immigration and Naturalization Service, which decided to send him back to Haiti. On hearing it he hanged himself in his prison cell. What happened to him is one instance of a government telling a person where he may and may not be. The French and American authorities routinely expel people classed as aliens whose school age children hold citizenship by birth. Deville's death sits beside the wager made by the thousands of Haitians who put out for Florida in small boats, betting against the sharks, the waves and the Coast Guard on the reckoning that the odds at sea were the better ones. Deportation is normally discussed as an administrative act with a file number and a form. For the person named on the form it works as a sentence, and Deville treated it as one.

The Caribbean Community was launched in 1973. Writing in 1997, Best asks whether the intellectual climate of the preceding years set limits on what the new body would attempt and achieve, in Georgetown, in St George's, in Kingston and almost everywhere else. His charge is that it gave primacy to relations between governments rather than between the peoples and islands of the region, and that it framed how those governments dealt with Cuba. He connects that to the near collapse of any working idea of sovereignty, regional or territorial. By 1994 the working slogan coming quietly out of Port of Spain was NAFTA at any price. Shridath Ramphal had by then invented the Association of Caribbean States as an invitation to the twelve English speaking members to widen their relations, on the theory that a Spanish speaking pond would teach them to swim. Best doubted they would swim, and asked whether the region had decided instead to drown.

Britain had spent years worrying that its Central African territories would go the way of South Africa, with a white settler minority dug in for good. Harold Macmillan told the South African parliament that a wind of change was blowing across the continent. Between 1963 and 1964 the Central African Federation came apart. British intervention did much of the work and so did African opposition, which Hastings Banda in Nyasaland and Kenneth Kaunda in Northern Rhodesia had built. Those two territories emerged as Malawi and Zambia. Southern Rhodesia refused. Ian Smith and the Rhodesia Front declared independence on their own authority in 1965, and United Nations sanctions at first helped the economy, since Portuguese Angola and Mozambique and South Africa were willing trading partners. From the early 1970s ZANU built a guerrilla war out of bases across the Mozambican border with FRELIMO support. Falling employment and worsening conditions on the reserves filled its ranks. By 1980 the settlers were beaten in the field, Smith accepted majority rule, and Robert Mugabe took power in a country renamed Zimbabwe.