A court cancels the citizenship of a woman born in 1984

Juliana Deguis Pierre was born in the Dominican Republic in 1984. Her parents lived and worked on a sugar plantation and neither had legal residence, and under the law of the time she was issued a birth certificate. In 2008, aged twenty four, she went to an office to request her cedula, the national identity card. The staff refused it and cancelled her birth certificate on the ground that both her parents carried Haitian surnames. In 2013 the new Constitutional Court took her appeal as one of its first cases and ruled that she had never been entitled to citizenship at all, that everyone in the same position should lose theirs, and that the records of people registered as Dominican between 1929 and 2007 should be audited and moved into the register for foreigners. The court also ordered the government to produce a plan within ninety days for migrants without papers.

Jean-Claude Duvalier returned to Haiti on 16 January 2011, twenty five years after leaving, having spent the whole period in France without ever being troubled by the authorities there. Duvalierists gave him a triumphal welcome at the airport and declared that the country had been in better shape under him. Onlookers cheered a president for life whom their own age made it impossible for them to remember in office. Police and soldiers of the United Nations mission escorted him to a hotel in Petionville. On 19 January the first victims filed complaints against him and his associates. Haitian justice charged the former dictator that same day with crimes against humanity, financial crimes, corruption, embezzlement of public funds, theft and criminal association. In February 2011 plaintiffs and human rights organisations formed the Collective against Impunity. The general population said little in public, and most victims kept silent for about a year.

Michel-Rolph Trouillot died in Chicago in July 2012. He was born in Port-au-Prince into a family of historians, left Haiti under the Duvalier dictatorship, and spent his career in American universities, the last of them the University of Chicago. His first book, written in Haitian Creole in 1977, retold the revolution for readers who spoke the language the revolution was fought in. Haiti: State Against Nation, published in 1990, described a state sitting on top of a peasantry it taxed and did not serve. Silencing the Past, published in 1995, is the work that travelled furthest. It argued that power enters the record long before any historian arrives, at the moment a fact is made, filed, retrieved and finally told as a story, and that the revolution in Saint-Domingue was unthinkable to the Europeans who had to write it down. Scholars in fields with no interest in Haiti now use his terms to ask who kept the documents and what was never written at all.

Archaeologists long assumed that the first settlers of the Caribbean preferred the larger islands, reasoning that a small island holds fewer animals and less ground to farm. The excavated evidence does not support that. Land animals were never a large part of the diet in these islands. The food came from the sea, and many small islands sit on banks more productive than the water around their bigger neighbours. Saba is one of them. A village of this period worked a catchment of about five kilometres around itself, which an island of five square kilometres supplies without difficulty. Once that is understood, the distribution of Early Ceramic Age sites stops being puzzling. Settlements turn up on islands that earlier scholars had dismissed as too small to hold anyone permanently, because the calculation was being made from the land rather than from the water. People who lived by sailing between islands did not measure them the way people who live on continents do.