Long before U.S. troops took up positions off the shores of Port-au-Prince, the war of nerves between the United States and Haiti's military rulers had begun in the Haitian capital itself. An old expression in Creole_the sole language of 85 percent of Haiti's people_speaks to the steely mood. "M ap mete mayi nan soley, m ap veye lapli," it says: When you're waiting for something important, you're always vigilant.
So it was last week, when leaflets and transistor radios, not tropical rains, showered the city, courtesy of the U.S. military. The leaflets declared the return of exiled President Jean-Bertrand Aristide and called for the Haitian Army's surrender. "We were thirsty to see them," exclaimed M. Atelus, a 48-year-old Aristide supporter who lives in a poor section of central Port-au-Prince. "I didn't sleep that night."
Vigilance, or perhaps stubbornness, was also the watchword among the Haitian military. The Haitian high command answered the ominous U.S. military presence with its now familiar strategy: equal parts defiance, a semblance of unity and a minimum of talk. "We're not going to run like [Gen. Manuel] Noriega," vowed one source close to the high command, conjuring up threats of AIDS- contaminated syringes, voodoo powers and a bloody guerrilla resistance. But just in case, the source said, he had decided to start sleeping in a different house each night.
There are other signs of fatigue within the military junta. A diplomat and longtime friend of strongman Lt. Gen. Raoul Cedras claimed that the Army commander is "tired, fed up and wants to get this over with." But it is far from certain that the leadership in Haiti will beat a hasty retreat. One source says Cedras, Army Chief of Staff Brig. Gen. Philippe Biamby and Port- au-Prince Police Chief Lt. Col. Michel Francois are afraid that their enlisted men will kill them if they agree to abdicate.
Don't shoot, talk. The trio also has been clinging to an unshakable belief that they can strike a deal, even in the midst of an American-led invasion. President Clinton's 11th-hour decision to dispatch a high-level delegation led by former President Jimmy Carter may only have reinforced that belief.
It might be wiser for Cedras and company to negotiate with Carter, former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Gen. Colin Powell and Senate Armed Services Committee Chairman Sam Nunn than to count on their own troops. Sources say the Haitian military lately has been hiring recruits for $1.50 per day plus food and transportation in an attempt to convince the Americans that Haiti is "another Somalia, another Vietnam." Even in Haiti, the Western Hemisphere's poorest nation, $1.50 a day buys only limited loyalty.
But if the last-ditch peace mission fails, disarming Haiti may be harder than it looks. The Army has distributed guns among its paramilitary supporters in poor neighborhoods. Haitians say it would be difficult and delicate for foreign soldiers to search homes in these areas. Cramped conditions make these neighborhoods ideal for hidden snipers to pick off soldiers who are unfamiliar with local geography. There are threats, too, that a handful of determined Haitian soldiers and paramilitary personnel will resort to suicide assassination attempts against foreign military and civilian leaders.
Among the options being considered by Western diplomats is a buyback program to bribe Haitians into giving up their guns. Given Haiti's violent history of revolution and reprisal, however, many Haitians may prefer to keep their weapons.
