The mayor of Port-au-Prince sends gunmen into a Sunday mass

With Manigat gone and Henri Namphy ruling openly, whatever restraint had been kept up for foreign audiences went as well. Killing squads worked the capital and the provinces at a rate not seen since 1964. The drug business kept surfacing. A Boeing 727 leased by Haiti Trans Air, successor to the airline the president's in-laws had owned, gave up fifty kilos of cocaine to customs officers in Miami, and the trail led back to Colonel Williams Regala. In early September the officers finished a job begun the year before. Jean-Bertrand Aristide was still preaching at Saint Jean Bosco to full congregations. On Sunday 11 September 1988, on the orders of Franck Romain, the mayor of Port-au-Prince and a former militia commander, armed men walked into the church during mass. Aristide got out. The gunmen fired into the congregation and the men behind them went to work with machetes. A dozen worshippers were killed. The attackers then set fire to the church.

Joseph is careful about priority in the debate that now dominates Haitian revolutionary studies. In a Sorbonne dissertation of 1989 titled Hegel, critique de l'Afrique, Pierre-Franklin Tavares argued that the revolution in Saint-Domingue and the birth of Haiti, taken as a double event, were the principal historical source, though not the only one, of the famous figure of consciousness entitled domination and bondage in the Phenomenology of Spirit, a figure Tavares follows Kojeve in saying is improperly called the dialectic of master and slave. Joseph presents Susan Buck-Morss's later work as building on this thesis, and notes that Tavares extended his argument in further studies on Hegel and the Abbe Gregoire and on Hegel as an anti-slavery philosopher, including a lecture at the College de France in January 1996. The point restores a francophone genealogy to an argument usually credited to an American book. Where this account departs from the standard one: Assigns the Hegel and Haiti thesis first to Tavares in 1989, ahead of the Buck-Morss article of 2000 with which it is usually identified.

The constitution promulgated in March 1987 was designed backwards from the thing it meant to prevent. Haiti had spent twenty nine years under a president who could not be removed, so the new text moved the running of the government to a prime minister answerable to parliament and left the president as head of state. It set out fundamental rights, made the judiciary independent, and handed elections to a body outside the army. It recognised Kreyol as an official language beside French, which acknowledged the ninety percent of the population who spoke no French at all. It was the most ambitious charter written in the country's one hundred and eighty three years. It was also written by and for a population that had never lived under the arrangements it described. Charters in Haiti had been discarded roughly once a decade since 1804. Whether this one could hold against the army, the old militia and the families who financed both was the question the next four years answered.

Haiti voted on its new constitution in March 1987 and nearly ninety nine percent of those who turned out approved it. The charter had been drafted after the fall of the Duvaliers by a commission elected the previous October. Among its provisions was one that had waited since independence in 1804. French had been the sole official language of the republic for one hundred and eighty three years, in a country where roughly nine people in ten spoke only Kreyol, the language that had formed on the plantations. The 1987 text gave Kreyol official standing alongside French, and the constitution itself was printed in both so that a voter could read what he was voting for. That decision reached further than any of the political clauses. A law nobody can read is a law written for somebody else. Making Kreyol official meant the state had to answer, on paper at least, in the language its citizens used to argue, pray, trade and complain.