Dyas... It’s a Class Thing

Marx-Vilaire Aristide
 13 Juin, 2001

A month ago while visiting Haiti, a very well respected Haitian intellectual angrily said to me “Haitians in the Diaspora don’t understand the situation in Haiti.” Furthermore – using the dismissive and pejorative term “dyas” to refer to Haitians who have left Haiti – he went on to analyze Haitians who live outside of Haiti, especially those in the U.S., as if such Haitians constitute a distinct social and economic class.

As Haitians, we are divided along many lines, with very sharp divisions between social and economic classes. And although very few of us would admit to it, we still have an issue with the color thing. However, the idea of a divide between Diaspora Haitians and those in Haiti is nonsense. Widespread acceptance notwithstanding, this dichotomy is false and among the most bogus of theories vis-à-vis Haiti and Haitians. It's a red herring that masks real divisions and contradictions in our society.

At the root of this false dichotomy is the outrageously erroneous notion that when we say "Diaspora" we are somehow referring to a particular social or economic entity. We are not! The Haitian Diaspora is enormously complex. It’s no less complex than Haiti itself.

What has become the Haitian-American Diaspora today is the result of massive migration from Haiti that gained momentum in the early 60s, as Francois Duvalier’s dictatorship took root and became more ferocious. The first wave of Haitian migrants consisted mostly of intellectuals and students who left to study. Throughout the 70s, the intelligentsia continued their exodus. By the late 70s and early 80s, however, there was a deep demographic shift in Haitian migration to the U.S., where the vast majority were people escaping the widespread poverty and misery. Alongside those who left by choice or as a result of political repression, there were also thousands who risked their lives on leaky boats to Miami.

Today, the make-up of the Haitian-American Diaspora is a varied and diverse mix of intellectuals, illiterate slum dwellers, artisans, professionals, large landowners, factory workers, former restavèks, civil servants and landless peasants from rural areas of Haiti. Hence, in a very real sense, we have a demographic replica of Haiti in the States. For that reason alone, it’s ludicrous to speak of the Diaspora as a “class”; it makes no sense to paint the Diaspora with one brush.

To illustrate, it’s important to take note of the following facts:

To be sure, there is infinitely more movement among the classes in the States and elsewhere in the Diaspora than there is in Haiti. Once in the States, children of former factory workers at the Parc Industriel can now have a taste of some of the same things as children of the bourgeoisie. But the class (and color) divisions that define Haitians in Haiti do not dissipate overnight in the interests of lòt bò dlo solidarity. What’s more, once in Haiti for a visit or otherwise, Diaspora Haitians are expected to rejoin their old respective “clubs.” And if each group were to remain within its defined ranks – family origin, social class, etc. – there would be no issue of antagonism whatsoever between the Diaspora and Haiti.

But for most Diaspora Haitians who visit Haiti, their new-found financial security is an opportunity to do things they never would have been able to do had they stayed in Haiti: frequent the fancy restaurants in Pétion-Ville alongside the Mevs; enjoy a day in the sun at Moulin Sur Mer in the company of the people with “good hair”; go to the Eagle Market with the arrogance and confidence of a typical gran nèg flaunting Diaspora greenback; display the trappings of new wealth with lavish jewelry and an expensive rental car.

No doubt, such attitude gets plenty of resentment. However, the resentment and condemnation do not come from Haitians of lower social and economic class. It invariably comes from the bourgeoisie and petit-bourgeoisie, which now feel challenged by people who, had they not emigrated, would be in no position to travel in the same circles as they. The resentment and castigation come from those who feel threatened because the status-quo logic of the Haitian class structure has been thwarted and flipped on its head by these “dyas.”

Finally, I put the following questions to all Haitians in the Diaspora who have ever returned to Haïti for a visit: When you say you feel resented by those in Haiti, are you saying that people you grew up with, family members, people of your same social class in Haiti, people in the countryside where you come from, all give you the cold shoulders when you return “home”? Or do you feel resented by people with whom you had never previously interacted and who, in response, feel socially and professionally challenged? Do you feel mutual discomfort when dealing with these folks of relatively old money? Think about it, and you’ll realize that the dichotomy should not be about immigration status. Above all, like anywhere else, it’s a class thing.