Millions in Mercenary Gamble: Security for the People or Protection for the Elite?
By Haitian Pulse Investigative Team
In a move that has raised both hope and alarm, Haiti’s transitional government has reportedly entered into a multi million dollar agreement with Erik Prince, founder of the controversial private military firm Blackwater, to combat the rampant gang violence plaguing the nation. This development comes amidst escalating insecurity, with gangs controlling significant portions of Port-au-Prince and other regions.
A Controversial Alliance
Erik Prince, infamous for his role in U.S. military operations overseas and his founding of Blackwater, is no stranger to controversy. In Haiti, he’s now reportedly been contracted to deploy up to 150 private mercenaries—among them, Haitian-American military veterans. These forces are said to be equipped not only with conventional weaponry but also with weaponized drones: commercial models that have been modified to carry and deploy explosives in targeted assaults on gang territories.
Yet, this supposed solution to Haiti’s deep-rooted gang crisis is shrouded in secrecy. The Haitian government has made no public disclosures about the contract, the operational rules of engagement, or the oversight mechanisms—if any—that govern these mercenary deployments.
Adding to the unease, Haitian American veteran Rod Joseph, who operates a security officer training company in Florida, confirmed that Prince approached him for a list of Haitian-American veterans who could be deployed to Haiti. However, Joseph has expressed deep reservations. He noted that Prince also intends to bring in private soldiers from El Salvador and is troubled by the absence of any accountability: “We should be very worried, because if he’s from the U.S. government, at least he can have the semblance of having to answer to Congress,” Joseph told The New York Times. “If it’s him, his contract, he doesn’t owe anybody an explanation.” His hesitation underscores the wider concern that this operation is taking place entirely in the shadows, detached from democratic scrutiny or public accountability.
Collateral Damage and Civilian Casualties
The introduction of weaponized drones into Haiti’s already fragile security landscape has had devastating consequences. Reports indicate that since February, over 300 people have died in drone-related strikes. Despite these high casualty numbers, there have been no confirmed kills of high-profile gang leaders—raising grave concerns about the intelligence and targeting strategies guiding these operations.
One particularly troubling incident occurred in the Delmas 6 neighborhood, where a drone strike injured 12 civilians, including women and children. No gang leaders were reported among the casualties. In a country where densely populated areas are often indistinguishable from gang-controlled zones, the deployment of indiscriminate drone warfare without oversight is tantamount to state-sanctioned terror against its own people.
Security for Whom?
This raises the critical question: Is this operation truly for the safety of the Haitian people, or is it designed to protect a fragile and increasingly illegitimate transitional government? For years, the Haitian state has demonstrated open hostility toward its population—most notably through the recurrent use of tear gas against peaceful protestors, suppression of dissent, and neglect of basic public services.
Trust in the government is nearly nonexistent among ordinary Haitians. The consistent brutality used against civilians and protestors has rendered this administration unworthy of public confidence. In this context, the idea that the same government would spend tens of millions on foreign mercenaries to protect the very people it routinely oppresses rings hollow. Many see this not as a public safety initiative, but as a militarized shield for the elite and political class.
Echoes of a Troubled Past
Haiti's entanglement with foreign intervention has long been a source of national trauma. The United Nations Stabilization Mission in Haiti (MINUSTAH), deployed after the 2004 coup, was marred by allegations of sexual abuse and was the source of a deadly cholera outbreak. More recently, the Kenya-led Multinational Security Support (MSS) mission—backed by the UN—has struggled to assert any meaningful presence due to underfunding and internal bureaucratic setbacks.
Now, introducing a powerful private military contractor like Erik Prince into this already fragmented landscape further complicates coordination and accountability. There’s a real risk of operational chaos as the agendas of private, international, and state security actors conflict with each other—and with the needs of the people.
A Price Too High
The staggering multi million price tag of this mercenary operation stands in painful contrast to Haiti’s crumbling infrastructure, lack of healthcare access, and chronic food insecurity. With over half of the population living below the poverty line, and children going hungry daily, the decision to funnel such vast resources into unregulated private security raises deep ethical and practical concerns.
Is this truly the best use of national resources in a time of such profound crisis? Or is this, yet again, a case of the Haitian people footing the bill for an elite few to entrench their power?
The Call for Transparency and People-Centered Solutions
The Haitian people deserve answers. They deserve a government that operates with transparency, listens to its citizens, and prioritizes their safety and well-being over political survival. They deserve to know who is being brought into their country with guns and drones, under whose authority, and for what ultimate purpose.
In a land weary from violence and betrayal, restoring peace will require far more than drones and mercenaries. It will demand systemic reform, democratic accountability, grassroots engagement, and a genuine commitment to justice.
Until then, this multi million dollar mercenary gamble will remain—at best—a questionable Band-Aid over a gaping wound, and at worst, a dangerous step toward deeper repression and conflict.
Comments