Tonton Macoutes

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Rotten Tomatoes just appeared in my in-box with a review and trailer about the new Superman movie.  I think I’ll take this one in.

Previous posts in the past week: July 4, 6 and 8, 2025.

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By my count, today, July 12, 2025, is 173 days since the inauguration of the President.  2025 is more than half over.  Labor Day is about 50 days away and in my context, Labor Day more or less ends summer.  Kids are back in school; most vacations are completed….  Reality replaces recreation.  There is much to be done.

Thursday, July 17,  will be another major national demonstration organized through Indivisible, a group I’ve decided to affiliate with.  To find an event in your area, click here.  [postnote July 13:  New program announcement from Indivisible here],  It’s not necessary for there to be an event in your town.  Organize your own, or be in action by yourself, doing something about your particular passion, and then do something every day.  Margaret Mead said it best many years ago: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

There are a great plenty of “ain’t it awful” actions (which will play out that way even for those who think they’re great ideas if applied to somebody else.).

This is our country.  And resist the temptation to say to yourself, “I can’t do anything”.  Read Margaret Mead again.  There are endless issues, and there are 75,000,000 who apparently agreed with me to the extent of voting for the same candidate for President and Vice-President in November 2024.

I am not alone.

POSTNOTE:

The heading of this post, Tonton Macoutes, refers to a proposed column I’m submitting to the local Minnesota Star Tribune today.  At minimum, I want you to see it, as submitted.  If you wish, it follows:

“The recent show of force by ICE at Los Angeles MacArthur Park (Minnesota Star Tribune July 8) causes me to wonder: have we become what we despise?  I think back to personal memories in the “good old days” of 2003 and 2006.

In spring, 2003, I met a man who was putting together a study group which would culminate with six days in Haiti in mid-December.  I bit, and six of us spent the next few months learning about Haiti, arriving in Port-au-Prince on December 6, 2003.

Our six days were jam-packed with the reality of Port-au-Prince.  Ours was a study group, so we visited places and talked with many citizens in a variety of settings.  Our hosts were supporters of the Democracy movement in Haiti, supporters of President Jean-Bertrand Aristide.  We witnessed the positive outcomes of a fledgling democracy in this impoverished nation.  There was justifiable pride.

But storm clouds were gathering.  Less than three months later, President Aristide and his family unceremoniously left Haiti to the Central African Republic on a U.S, plane. France and Canada seemed co-operators with the U.S.  A coup had been accomplished, in my opinion, by our democracy against another country learning and wishing to practice democracy.

In our one-week visit, we had no personal incidents, but we apparently had bad friends, at least in eyes of some.  During our week, one person we met was assassinated near the National Palace a day or two after we met him .  I think we heard the gunfire as we were driving past the area, completely unawares.  At the time of the coup itself, several of the people who had graciously hosted us were either imprisoned or fled the country.  Another died by poison, I learned a year or so later.

Haiti National Palace Dec, 2003 photo Dick Bernard

Early on I learned that my 63-year-old white face was not a benefit.  We were listeners at a very informative meeting with perhaps two dozen Haitian men and women who recalled human rights incidents in their own lives in the days of the Duvaliers.

At the end of the session, we went around the circle to thank each person for sharing their stories with us.  One man refused to shake my hand.  All I can imagine is that I reminded him of somebody he’d encountered, and not in a positive way.

Three years later I returned to Haiti on another study trip, this one facilitated by a highly respected Haiti organization.  This trip was to the interior of Haiti, once again rich in insights.

Enroute, in Miami, I was able to connect with the Catholic Priest who we had met on our first day in Haiti in 2003, who was imprisoned at the time of the coup.  After the coup he seemed to have been exiled to Little Haiti in Miami where I met him in person, in public, seemingly free as a bird, like the Aristides: just a different kind of prison.

The Haiti I visited both years was an impoverished but welcoming place.  This has changed.  Why?

The MacArthur Park incident fits into this story.

Now, ICE is flush with newfound authority and cash from the just-passed federal budget.  What happened in MacArthur Park is, in my opinion, a public threat to everyone everywhere in the United States in coming months.

The masked military in masks and very dark glasses remind me of what I learned about the infamous Tonton Macoutes who were the enforcers at the time of the Duvaliers in Haiti.  They used their official status and anonymity to terrorize and subdue the population.

ICE is a great threat to democracy in the United States, and we all need to actively resist however and wherever and whenever we can.  For absolute certainty the anonymity of law enforcement must end.

There are other threats too.  This is our country.  We citizens own the future, for good or ill.  But we must participate in the solution.”

COMMENTS (more at end of post)

from Sharrie: Thank you for writing and submitting this column, Dick. I agree that ICE has morphed into a paramilitary. I agree on the incompatibility of such an order-keeping force — one whose masked members wear uniforms without identifying insignias, do not show badges, bear military-style weapons, drive military vehicles, and do not have warrants but abuse and detain people without regard to due process — with the rights which belong to people in a democracy. I’ll watch for your commentary and participate in the discussion which will certainly follow on the STrib’s comment boards. Democracy is imperiled wherever we tolerate autocratic behavior. Peace and solidarity,

from Claude:  Thank you, Dick.. Some interesting history here.  Enjoy the rest of summer no matter what the world and Trump throws at us!

from Donna:  shared with persmssion:

Good Sunday to you Dick.  I am enclosing a letter from someone that ICOM has been helping for the past three years.  The inhumanity and fear that ICE is creating is deplorable.
“Today I can tell you that there are pains that one doesn’t tell anyone, that are only felt every day and they hurt in the chest, but we hide it with a smile, we pretend that everything is fine because we understand that not everyone wants to listen and deep down we are afraid of not being understood. But all of you heard about my case, you heard about our struggle, you took the time to empathize with my story and you never judged us or asked why we were in this situation and I thank you for that. But I also want to share with you that it has not been easy for me, you do not know how difficult it has been to get out of bed every day, the sleepless nights of thoughts that no one imagines you have and yet you keep going, you remain strong because around you there are people who want to see you well even if you are broken inside.But God saw every tear I shed, every prayer I silently said, every prayer you said for my family, and I am grateful. Thank you so much for understanding that human identity doesn’t have a passport, and for understanding that no one should be afraid of being treated as a threat.
My husband and I left behind what we loved most for an uncertain future, and I dare to tell you that we are the true face of courage. Thank you because in this fight I was never alone, you were with me, and even though they tried to silence us in this country that was once free, my story will always be stronger than any persecution or border. Immigrants are more than a note on the news, we are a living symbol of resistance.
We are a letter written out of pain and signed by God, because each one of us has a story we had to go through to get here.
Thank you for giving us a job, for smiling when you see us, for looking at us with empathy.
Thank you for trying to speak Spanish and trying to communicate with us when we’re trying to speak two languages with our hearts broken 💔.
It hurt when I prayed for what I did want to happen, but I asked for it to be God’s will, and when He gave me a NO for an answer, I just wiped my watery eyes and said it was His will.
And I have nothing left to say but to say that this immigration struggle ends here with the return of my family to my country PERU because this is no longer about money it is about laws, laws that today have separated families, have left children separated from their parents, have left broken families and I do not want to be one of those broken families, my husband will request his deportation to his country Venezuela and asking God that everything goes well and that he can flee when he steps on Venezuelan soil and be able to arrive in Peru safe and sound and reunited with his daughter and Migo and once together there this struggle will be over. And you know, I hold my head high with pride and I choose to believe in the impossible things, because I know that GOD will make them possible, even when I have no idea how it will happen.Infinite thanks to all of you and I tell you again Nobody leaves their country for fun, the one who leaves is someone who is hungry and wants a dream bigger than fear .. and our American dream has culminated here with the decision to leave and return to the place that cost us so much to leave. but I may leave with empty pockets but I leave with a heart full of gratitude and friendship and love that you gave me and those are things that are priceless and they make me remember that here in this country that welcomed my family there are wonderful people who are you. In the Quechua language, the native language of my country, the word goodbye does not exist, but there is a word with a beautiful meaning, tupanashiskama, until life finds us again.”