Haiti’s Unfinished Struggle: When Too Many Leaders Leave the Nation Leaderless
“Kabrit ki gen anpil mèt mouri lan soley” — A nation with too many self-proclaimed saviors risks dying under the weight of its own divisions.
Opinion | The Haitian Pulse Editorial Team | August 12, 2025
Haiti has no shortage of passion, talent, or patriotism. What it lacks — and what has kept it on the edge of collapse for decades — is unity. The Haitian proverb “Kabrit ki gen anpil mèt mouri lan soley” is more than a folksy saying; it is a perfect metaphor for the nation’s reality. A goat with too many owners dies in the sun because no one truly takes responsibility. Haiti is that goat, and unless this collective failure is confronted, the outcome will not change.
History offers a painful reminder that Haitians are capable of unity when survival demands it. In 1804, diverse forces set aside personal rivalries to win independence from one of the most powerful empires of the time. That unity was not accidental — it was born out of the recognition that only together could Haitians secure freedom. Today, the stakes are no less existential, yet the national instinct leans toward division rather than cohesion.
From a young age, Haitians are often taught to compete not for collective advancement but for individual achievement. In schools, neighborhoods, and workplaces, recognition is given to the one who outshines, not the team that works together. This cultural conditioning, while fueling personal ambition, has left the country with a generation of leaders who believe they alone have the answer. Every Haitian has a plan to fix the nation; almost no one is willing to merge that plan into a collective strategy.
The last thirty years have been a parade of administrations that promised transformation but delivered paralysis. Jean-Bertrand Aristide inspired the masses yet alienated potential allies through an uncompromising, personality-driven approach. René Préval presented himself as a steady hand but allowed fragmentation to deepen. Michel Martelly injected showmanship into politics, yet turned governance into a private circle affair. Jovenel Moïse spoke of reform but surrounded himself with divisive figures, leaving the country more fractured at his death than when he took office. Each believed in their own vision, but few built a durable, united movement capable of surviving beyond their tenure.
“Haiti is not short on leaders — it is short on leaders willing to share the stage,” remarked one diaspora activist from Miami. This inability to form genuine alliances is not just a political failing; it is a cultural wound. When movements dissolve into ego wars, foreign powers step in.
Washington, Paris, Ottawa, and the United Nations have mastered the art of exploiting Haitian disunity. Divide the factions, back certain elites, undermine others, and the game becomes easy to control. The recent controversy over André Jonas Vladimir Paraison’s appointment as director general of the PNH is a stark reminder. The fact that the choice of Haiti’s police chief could spark whispers of Washington’s approval or disapproval shows just how deep the interference runs. This is not sovereignty — it is managed dependency.
Foreign interference is not always heavy-handed. Sometimes it is subtle: funding NGOs that bypass Haitian institutions, shaping media narratives, or setting conditions for aid that bend domestic policy. These tactics succeed precisely because Haitians remain divided, competing for international favor rather than uniting for national strength.
The diaspora’s role is equally complex. It sends billions in remittances each year, sustains families, and invests in businesses. Yet diaspora communities mirror the same fragmentation as those at home. Diaspora-led initiatives too often become battlegrounds for leadership disputes. “We can mobilize money overnight,” said a Haitian-American entrepreneur in New York, “but mobilizing consensus? That’s where we fail every time.”
The contrast with nations that overcame similar fractures is telling. Rwanda rebuilt after genocide by forging a collective national identity that transcended personal agendas. Singapore emerged from colonial rule and ethnic division by creating systems that rewarded unity over ego. Post-apartheid South Africa, though still struggling, managed to prevent total collapse by rallying behind shared institutions in the early years. These countries are not perfect, but they prove that unity is not a fantasy — it is a choice backed by discipline and structure.
The Haitian challenge is not the absence of ideas but the refusal to fuse them into a shared framework. This refusal is costing lives, eroding sovereignty, and ensuring that no single initiative — no matter how brilliant — survives long enough to change the nation’s trajectory.
The path forward demands leaders who already serve with integrity and are capable of working together for the greater good. Figures like Michel Soukar, Bayinnah Belo, Dr. Frantz Large, and Professor Lyonel Trouillot have demonstrated a commitment to truth, justice, and the Haitian people without being mired in the usual political gamesmanship. They have the credibility to form a transitional leadership team whose mission is singular: pacify the nation, restore stability, and lead to an honest, credible election.
But they cannot do it alone. Haitians must signal loudly and clearly that the era of ego-driven politics is over. Support must be given to those willing to collaborate, and pressure must be applied to those who cling to the illusion that they alone can save the nation.
“The only way out is together,” a Haitian student in Port-au-Prince said recently. “If we don’t understand that now, we may never have the chance again.”
Haitians love their country — that has never been in doubt. But love without unity is like sunlight without water: it will not sustain life. The time has come to recognize that the goat cannot have many masters. Haiti must choose a collective path, or it will continue to die slowly under the same burning sun.
The Haitian Pulse remains committed to amplifying the conversations that push us toward a truly collective Haitian future. Readers are encouraged to share their thoughts below — because the path out of the abyss will only be found together.
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