On 9th March 2018, Uhuru Kenyatta and Raila Odinga stepped out of Harambee House to a political ceasefire ‘handshake’ that has been the subject of intense debate and speculation ever since. Indeed, it seems to have started the usual massive elite political realignments that take place prior to a transitional election such as the upcoming one in 2022. The handshake was from initial perceptions at least, the kind of boardroom deal that the Kenyan elite has perfected over decades. This one is growing into a ‘Building Bridges to a New Kenyan Nation Project’ whose details are clearly still evolving and thus the cause of some anticipation and anxiety.
By late 2017 rigged elections; the end of ‘corruption’ and a seamless slide into an era of rampant theft and plunder; on-going slow burn crisis in health, education and the overall economy had served to galvanise behind Raila Odinga in his permutation as ‘Baba’, the ‘People’s President’, perhaps the broadest and most resolute mass formation in our politics since the start of FORD in the early 1990s. Many of Baba’s supporters who showed up in a clearly fearless multitude for his audacious swearing in as the People’s President on the 30th of January were not all ODM members or even NASA voters but simply Kenyans who identified with the issues, frustrations, anger, aspirations and hopes that informed attitudes to the event.
The handshake had the effect of both deflating and demobilising the Baba multitude…The underlying issues that had served to radicalise a majority of the population into delegitimising the current Kenyatta regime – the rigging of elections, deliberate undermining of the 2010 constitution, attacks on independent governance institutions and all dissent, plunder of the economy, spiralling cost of living – have been put on the back burner while two of the country’s most powerful adversaries reach an accommodation.
As a result, the handshake has initially had the effect of both deflating and demobilising the Baba multitude. It has left many perplexed and others suspicious that the underlying issues that had served to radicalise a majority of the population into delegitimising the current Kenyatta regime – the rigging of elections, deliberate undermining of the 2010 constitution, attacks on independent governance institutions and all dissent, plunder of the economy, spiralling cost of living etc – have been put on the back burner while two of the country’s most powerful adversaries reach an accommodation. Only some foreign diplomats, pro-regime business lobbies and those who understand the handshake as the beginnings of a ‘nusu mkate’ arrangement with jobs, cash and patronage for all with snouts in the trough seemed unequivocally enthusiastic.
To elites in neighbouring countries it is all very fascinating – at once an example of the deeply cynical deal-making of Kenyan elite politics and at the same time what some would like to characterise as an example of ‘maturity’ in Kenyan politics, that ultimately all political problems are susceptible to negotiation in smoke filled rooms over a tot or two of whiskey. There is no structure here – this isn’t CCM bigwigs steering the ship of Tanzanian politics; or the ANC doing the same in South Africa. Our process are usually far more personalised and ‘commercialised’.
Elite realignments are always expected before transitional elections in Kenya. Our elite is made up largely of businessmen created by the State and who become politicians primarily to consolidate and protect their business interests. In contrast, Uganda, Rwanda, Sudan etc are ran by soldiers which makes the utterly contortionary deal-making the Kenyan elite is capable of less likely in those contexts. There isn’t much chance of Museveni reaching out to Kizza Besigye, Kagame to anyone; Omar el Bashir etc. Our businessmen are dealmakers. Ironically, and cynically, this creates for a level of stability on the political front that is underwritten by the theft of public resources.
The Kenyan tradition is that fiscal distress of the kind the current regime is in often opens up political space especially when it’s combined with foreign pressure. We saw such openings at the start of the 1990s, towards the end of the 1990s and more catastrophically in 2007/8. The same could be happening now though the pressures are more tectonic given our demographics, constitutional reality, economic disparities, social dislocation, devolution and political polarisation.
As debate has intensified as to what the handshake will morph into in real political terms it has become clear that political realignments will only be given legal expression, especially given our current constitution, if the constitution itself is changed. One genuinely popular proposal, which has been on the cards before, is to turn Kenya into a more inclusive parliamentary system of government. Indeed this was basically the original Bomas draft in 2004. On paper this is an excellent idea.
Sceptics note that historically the Kenyan elite changes the constitution when under tremendous political and economic pressure such as 1991 and 2010; or when the realignments are aimed at locking powerful players out of the political game. In 1968 constitutional changes were mooted to lock Tom Mboya out of the presidency for example and in the mid-1970s changes were discussed to try and ensure a Kalenjin vice president, Daniel arap Moi, did not automatically succeed President Kenyatta when Mzee was in failing health. And amid all the chatter about progressive constitutional changes the regime has introduced Miscellaneous Amendments Act that appears to, among a host of wooly retrogressive proposals, start the process of removing investigative powers from an already hapless Ethics and Anti Corruption Commission (EACC). It would more productive to abolish this outfit given continental experience than keep it alive but castrated.
One of the things the Kenyatta-Ruto alliance did, much as the Kenyatta I-Moi I one did in the 1960s, was secure Kikuyu settlement in the Rift Valley. Throughout his tenure as vice president, Moi’s most ruthless political management was of Kalenjin political leaders who’d always resented this inward emigration. Throughout the 1990s and until the Kenyatta-Ruto pact in 2012 these ‘Kikuyu hostages’ in the Rift Valley have defined Kikuyu political elite pragmatism…
The apparent net loser around the handshake thus far is the Deputy President, William Ruto. Even the parliamentary system idea as thus far very sketchily articulated is being cynically understood by some as a move by the Kikuyu elite to alienate the Deputy President in favour of a political alliance with the powerful popular backing of the Odinga collective. The underlying narratives here are compelling and inform the current debate about constitutional reform before 2022.
One of the things the Kenyatta-Ruto alliance did, much as the Kenyatta I-Moi I one did in the 1960s, was secure Kikuyu settlement in the Rift Valley. Throughout his tenure as vice president, Moi’s most ruthless political management was of Kalenjin political leaders who’d always resented this inward emigration. Throughout the 1990s and until the Kenyatta-Ruto pact in 2012 these ‘Kikuyu hostages’ in the Rift Valley have defined Kikuyu political elite pragmatism vis-à-vis national political alliance building. This has been despite giant spasms of violence against non-Kalenjins in and around the Rift Valley most intensely in 2007/8 Kenyan near death experience that was the PEV. The handshake, especially if the political architecture that emerges attempts to stymie Ruto’s presidential ambitions, could promise a return to the violence and displacements of the past. And yet there is a mood being cultivated among elements within the Kikuyu elite that Ruto needs to be stopped; the Rift Valley hostages finally released and the only man to do this heavy lifting is Raila Odinga.
Though people don’t often say it openly, the Deputy President is today considered Kenya’s most frightening political figure. His opponents and adversaries don’t end up well; he’s been to the International Criminal Court and back; and, his name and that of his closest allies pop up in all serious research (including by the government’s own commissions of inquiry) on previous deadly violence in the Rift Valley. He is also among Kenya’s most hardworking and focussed politicians, clearly unencumbered by a value set that even remotely coincides with the underlying values of the constitution. Very astutely, he is already presenting himself as the rags-to-riches ‘hustler’ and underdog facing a dynastic plot against his ascendancy. His supporters when confronted with widespread allegations of corruption on the DP’s part retort robustly that there isn’t anyone among the current elite with the moral authority to even talk about corruption. There is a working assumption that a Ruto presidency would collapse the constitution; see rampant impunity and disassembling of the judiciary, media and civil society. There is, as such, an existential struggle against Ruto in some important sections of Kenyan society. That said, he is also among the most resilient big beasts on our political savannah. This for some explains why the Kikuyu elite would want another furiously tenacious political beast – Raila Odinga – to take him on.
Will the 2010 constitution be thrown under the bus of political deal-making by tribal barons in the run-up to 2022 or will the ‘Building Bridges to a New Kenyan Nation Project’ actually succeed in forging a diverse and wide enough Kenyan coalition for it to have the legitimacy to stabilise a politically polarised country?
The beginnings of these realignments are forcing important questions onto the table. Will the 2010 constitution be thrown under the bus of political deal-making by tribal barons in the run-up to 2022 or will the ‘Building Bridges to a New Kenyan Nation Project’ actually succeed in forging a diverse and wide enough Kenyan coalition for it to have the legitimacy to stabilise a politically polarised country heaving under the weight of rampant theft and plunder, a flailing economy for the majority and key sectors in a state of dysfunction? There is another broader implication: impunity clearly works in Kenya if the same elites responsible for current problems can hatch a scheme to deal their way out of it without any sense of restitution or justice. Finally, this must all feel quite strange to elites from the ‘other tribes’ forced watching as the carcass of Kenya being divvied up by the same lot who’ve been doing the divvying up since the 1960s yet again.
For the handshake to work even the move to a parliamentary system being theorised would need to be part of a broadly validated political settlement. Such validation would imply a heavy dose of accountability, restitution and lustration on the part of some of the very authors of the settlement. Kenyans have the wits to pull this off but the will among the elite has never been apparent except for fleeting glimpses when a political or economic gun is held to their heads. Into the stewing pot we boldly leap…
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Another False Start: The Green Revolution Myths that Africa Bought
The flaws and dire consequences of India’s Green Revolution should have warned policymakers of the likely disappointing results of GR in Africa.
Since the Alliance for a Green Revolution in Africa (AGRA) was launched in 2006, crop yields have barely risen, while rural poverty remains endemic, and would have increased more if not for out-migration. With funding from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and the Rockefeller Foundation, AGRA was started with the objective of raising yields and incomes for 30 million smallholder farm households while halving food insecurity by 2020. There are no signs of significant productivity and income boosts from promoted commercial seeds and agrochemicals in AGRA’s 13 focus countries. Meanwhile, the number of undernourished in these nations increased by 30 per cent.
When will we ever learn?
What went wrong? The continuing protests by Indian farmers — despite the COVID-19 resurgence — highlight the problematic legacy of its Green Revolution (GR) in frustrating progress to sustainable food security. Many studies have already punctured some myths of India’s GR. Looking back, its flaws and their dire consequences should have warned policymakers of the likely disappointing results of the GR in Africa. Hagiographic accounts of the GR cite “high‐yielding” and “fast-growing” dwarf wheat and rice spreading through Asia, particularly India, saving lives, modernising agriculture, and “freeing” labour for better off-farm employment.
Many recent historical studies challenge key claims of this supposed success, including allegedly widespread yield improvements and even the number of lives actually saved by increased food production. Environmental degradation and other public health threats due to the toxic chemicals used are now widely recognised. Meanwhile, water management has become increasingly challenging and unreliable due to global warming and other factors.
Ersatz GR2.0 for Africa
Half a century later, the technology-fetishizing, even deifying AGRA initiative seemed oblivious of Asian lessons as if there is nothing to learn from actual experiences, research and analyses. Worse, AGRA has ignored many crucial features of India’s GR. Importantly, the post-colonial Indian government had quickly developed capacities to promote economic development. Few African countries have such “developmental” capacities, let alone comparable capabilities. Their already modest government capacities were decimated from the 1980s by structural adjustment programmes demanded by international financial institutions and bilateral “donors”.
Ignoring lessons of history
India’s ten-point Intensive Agricultural Development Programme was more than just about seed, fertiliser and pesticide inputs. Its GR also provided credit, assured prices, improved marketing, extension services, village-level planning, analysis and evaluation. These and other crucial elements are missing or not developed appropriately in recent AGRA initiatives. Sponsors of the ersatz GR in Africa have largely ignored such requirements. Instead, the technophile AGRA initiative has been enamoured with novel technical innovations while not sufficiently appreciating indigenous and other “old” knowledge, science and technology, or even basic infrastructure. The Asian GR relied crucially on improving cultivation conditions, including better water management. There has been little such investment by AGRA or others, even when the crop promoted requires such improvements.
From tragedy to farce
Unsurprisingly, Africa’s GR has reproduced many of India’s problems. As in India, overall staple crop productivity has not grown significantly faster despite costly investments in GR technologies. These poor productivity growth rates have remained well below population growth rates. Moderate success in one priority crop (e.g., wheat in Punjab, India, or maize in Africa) has typically been at the expense of sustained productivity growth for other crops. Crop and dietary diversity has been reduced, adversely affecting cultivation sustainability, nutrition, health and wellbeing. Subsidies and other incentives have meant more land devoted to priority crops, not just intensification, with adverse land use and nutrition impacts. Soil health and fertility have suffered from “nutrient-mining” due to priority crop monocropping, requiring more inorganic fertilizer purchases. Higher input costs often exceed additional earnings from modest yield increases using new seeds and agrochemicals, increasing farmer debt.
Paths not taken
AGRA and other African GR proponents have had 14 years, and billions of dollars, to show that input-intensive agriculture can raise productivity, net incomes and food security. They have clearly failed. Africans — farmers, consumers and governments — have many good reasons to be wary, especially considering AGRA’s track record after a decade and a half. India’s experience and the ongoing farmer protests there should make them more so. Selling Africa’s GR as innovation requiring unavoidable “creative destruction” is grossly misleading. On the other hand, many agro-ecology initiatives, which technophiles decry as backward, are bringing cutting-edge science and technology to farmers, with impressive results. A 2006 University of Essex survey, of nearly 300 large ecological agriculture projects in more than fifty poor countries, documented an average 79 per cent productivity increase, with declining costs and rising incomes. Published when AGRA was launched, these results far surpass those of GRs thus far. Sadly, they remind us of the high opportunity costs of paths not taken due to well-financed technophile dogma.
SAPs – Season Two: Why Kenyans Fear Another IMF Loan
The Jubilee government would have us believe that the country is economically healthy but the reality is that the IMF has come in precisely because Kenya is in a financial crisis.
Never did I imagine that opposing an International Monetary Fund (IMF) loan to Kenya would be viewed by the Kenyan authorities as a criminal act. But that is exactly what transpired last week when activist Mutemi Kiama was arrested and charged with “abuse of digital gadgets”, “hurting the presidency”, “creating public disorder” and other vaguely-worded offences. Mutemi’s arrest was prompted by his Twitter post of an image of President Uhuru Kenyatta with the following caption: “This is to notify the world . . . that the person whose photograph and names appear above is not authorised to act or transact on behalf of the citizens of the Republic of Kenya and that the nation and future generations shall not be held liable for any penalties of bad loans negotiated and/or borrowed by him.” He was released on a cash bail of KSh.500,000 with an order prohibiting him from using his social media accounts or speaking about COVID-19-related loans.
Mutemi is one among more than 200,000 Kenyans who have signed a petition to the IMF to halt a KSh257 billion (US$2.3 billion) loan to Kenya, which was ostensibly obtained to cushion the country against the negative economic impact of COVID-19. Kenya is not the only country whose citizens have opposed an IMF loan. Protests against IMF loans have been taking place in many countries, including Argentina, where people took to the streets in 2018 when the country took a US$50 billion loan from the IMF. In 2016, Eqyptian authorities were forced to lower fuel prices following demonstrations against an IMF-backed decision to eliminate fuel subsidies. Similar protests have also taken place in Jordan, Lebanon and Ecuador in recent years.
Why would a country’s citizens be against a loan given by an international financial institution such as the IMF? Well, for those Kenyans who survived (or barely survived) the IMF-World Bank Structural Adjustment Programmes (SAPs) of the 1980s and 90s, the answer is obvious. SAPs came with stringent conditions attached, which led to many layoffs in the civil service and removal of subsidies for essential services, such as health and education, which led to increasing levels of hardship and precarity, especially among middle- and low-income groups. African countries undergoing SAPs experienced what is often referred to as “a lost development decade” as belt-tightening measures stalled development programmes and stunted economic opportunities.
In addition, borrowing African countries lost their independence in matters related to economic policy. Since lenders, such as the World Bank and the IMF, decide national economic policy – for instance, by determining things like budget management, exchange rates and public sector involvement in the economy – they became the de facto policy and decision-making authorities in the countries that took their loans. This is why, in much of the 1980s and 1990s, the arrival of a World Bank or IMF delegation to Nairobi often got Kenyans very worried.
In those days (in the aftermath of a hike in oil prices in 1979 that saw most African countries experience a rise in import bills and a decline in export earnings), leaders of these international financial institutions were feared as much as the authoritarian Kenyan president, Daniel arap Moi, because with the stroke of a pen they could devalue the Kenyan currency overnight and get large chunks of the civil service fired. As Kenyan economist David Ndii pointed out recently at a press conference organised by the Linda Katiba campaign, when the IMF comes knocking, it essentially means the country is “under receivership”. It can no longer claim to determine its own economic policies. Countries essentially lose their sovereignty, a fact that seems to have eluded the technocrats who rushed to get this particular loan.
When he took office in 2002, President Mwai Kibaki kept the World Bank and the IMF at arm’s length, preferring to take no-strings-attached infrastructure loans from China. Kibaki’s “Look East” economic policy alarmed the Bretton Woods institutions and Western donors who had until then had a huge say in the country’s development trajectory, but it instilled a sense of pride and autonomy in Kenyans, which sadly, has been eroded by Uhuru and his inept cronies who have gone on loan fishing expeditions, including massive Eurobonds worth Sh692 billion (nearly $7 billion), which means that every Kenyan today has a debt of Sh137,000, more than three times what it was eight years ago when the Jubilee government came to power. By the end of last year, Kenya’s debt stood at nearly 70 per cent of GDP, up from 50 per cent at the end of 2015. This high level of debt can prove deadly for a country like Kenya that borrows in foreign currencies.
When the IMF comes knocking, it essentially means the country is “under receivership”.
The Jubilee government would have us believe that the fact that the IMF agreed to this loan is a sign that the country is economically healthy, but as Ndii noted, quite often the opposite is true: the IMF comes in precisely because a country is in a financial crisis. In Kenya’s case, this crisis has been precipitated by reckless borrowing by the Jubilee administration that has seen Kenya’s debt rise from KSh630 billion (about $6 billion at today’s exchange rate) when Kibaki took office in 2002, to a staggering KSh7.2 trillion (about US$70 billion) today, with not much to show for it, except a standard gauge railway (SGR) funded by Chinese loans that appears unable to pay for itself. As an article in a local daily pointed out, this is enough money to build 17 SGRs from Mombasa to Nairobi or 154 superhighways like the one from Nairobi to Thika. The tragedy is that many of these loans are unaccounted for; in fact, many Kenyans believe they are taken to line individual pockets. Uhuru Kenyatta has himself admitted that Kenya loses KSh2 billion a day to corruption in government. Some of these lost billions could actually be loans.
IMF loans with stringent conditions attached have often been presented as being the solution to a country’s economic woes – a belt-tightening measure that will instil fiscal discipline in a country’s economy by increasing revenue and decreasing expenditure. However, the real purpose of these loans, some argue, is to bring about major and fundamental policy changes at the national level – changes that reflect the neoliberal ethos of our time, complete with privatisation, free markets and deregulation.
The first ominous sign that the Kenyan government was about to embark on a perilous economic path was when the head of the IMF, Christine Lagarde, made an official visit to Kenya shortly after President Uhuru was elected in 2013. At that time, I remember tweeting that this was not a good omen; it indicated that the IMF was preparing to bring Kenya back into the IMF fold.
Naomi Klein’s book, The Shock Doctrine, shows how what she calls “disaster capitalism” has allowed the IMF, in particular, to administer “shock therapy” on nations reeling from natural or man-made disasters or high levels of external debt. This has led to unnecessary privatisation of state assets, government deregulation, massive layoffs of civil servants and reduction or elimination of subsidies, all of which can and do lead to increasing poverty and inequality. Klein is particularly critical of what is known as the Chicago School of Economics that she claims justifies greed, corruption, theft of public resources and personal enrichment as long as they advance the cause of free markets and neoliberalism. She shows how in nearly every country where the IMF “medicine” has been administered, inequality levels have escalated and poverty has become systemic.
Sometimes the IMF will create a pseudo-crisis in a country to force it to obtain an IMF bailout loan. Or, through carefully manipulated data, it will make the country look economically healthy so that it feels secure about applying for more loans. When that country can’t pay back the loans, which often happens, the IMF inflicts even more austerity measures (also known as “conditionalities”) on it, which lead to even more poverty and inequality.
IMF and World Bank loans for infrastructure projects also benefit Western corporations. Private companies hire experts to ensure that these companies secure government contracts for big infrastructure projects funded by these international financial institutions. Companies in rich countries like the United States often hire people who will do the bidding on their behalf. In his international “word-of-mouth bestseller”, Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, John Perkins explains how in the 1970s when he worked for an international consulting firm, he was told that his job was to “funnel money from the World Bank, the US Agency for International Development and other foreign aid organisations into the coffers of huge corporations and the pockets of a few wealthy families who control the planet’s resources”.
Sometimes the IMF will create a pseudo-crisis in a country to force it to obtain an IMF bailout loan.
The tools to carry out this goal, his employer admitted unashamedly, could include “fraudulent financial reports, rigged elections, payoffs, extortion, sex and murder”. Perkins showed how in the 1970s, he became instrumental in brokering deals with countries ranging from Panama to Saudi Arabia where he convinced leaders to accept projects that were detrimental to their own people but which enormously benefitted US corporate interests.
“In the end, those leaders become ensnared in a web of debt that ensures their loyalty. We can draw on them whenever we desire – to satisfy our political, economic or military needs. In turn, they bolster their political positions by bringing industrial parks, power plants, and airports to their people. The owners of US engineering/construction companies become fabulously wealthy,” a colleague told him when he asked why his job was so important.
Kenyans, who are already suffering financially due to the COVID-19 pandemic which saw nearly 2 million jobs in the formal sector disappear last year, will now be confronted with austerity measures at precisely the time when they need government subsidies and social safety nets. Season Two of SAPs is likely to make life for Kenyans even more miserable in the short and medium term.
We will have to wait and see whether overall dissatisfaction with the government will influence the outcome of the 2022 elections. However, whoever wins that election will still have to contend with rising debt and unsustainable repayments that have become President Uhuru Kenyatta’s most enduring legacy.
Haiti: The Struggle for Democracy, Justice, Reparations and the Black Soul
Only the Haitian people can decide their own future. The dictatorship imposed by former president Jovenel Moïse and its imperialist enablers need to go – and make space for a people’s transition government.
Haiti is once again going through a profound crisis. Central to this is the struggle against the dictatorship imposed by former president Jovenel Moïse. Since last year Mr. Moise, after decreeing the dismissal of Parliament, has been ruling through decrees, permanently violating Haiti’s constitution. He has refused to leave power after his mandate ended on February 7, 2021, claiming that it ends on February 7 of next year, without any legal basis.
This disregard of the constitution is taking place despite multiple statements by the country’s main judicial bodies, such as the CSPJ (Superior Council of Judicial Power) and the Association of Haitian Lawyers. Numerous religious groups and numerous institutions that are representative of society have also spoken. At this time, there is a strike by the judiciary, which leaves the country without any public body of political power.
At the same time, this institutional crisis is framed in the insecurity that affects practically all sectors of Haitian society. An insecurity expressed through savage repressions of popular mobilizations by the PNH (Haitian National Police), which at the service of the executive power. They have attacked journalists and committed various massacres in poor neighborhoods. Throughout the country, there have been assassinations and arbitrary arrests of opponents.
Most recently, a judge of the High Court was detained under the pretext of promoting an alleged plot against the security of the State and to assassinate the president leading to the illegal and arbitrary revocation of three judges of this Court. This last period has also seen the creation of hundreds of armed groups that spread terror over the entire country and that respond to power, transforming kidnapping into a fairly prosperous industry for these criminals.
The 13 years of military occupation by United Nations troops through MINUSTAH and the operations of prolongation of guardianship through MINUJUSTH and BINUH have aggravated the Haitian crisis. They supported retrograde and undemocratic sectors who, along with gangsters, committed serious crimes against the Haitian people and their fundamental rights.
For this, the people of Haiti deserve a process of justice and reparations. They have paid dearly for the intervention of MINUSTAH: 30 THOUSAND DEAD from cholera transmitted by the soldiers, thousands of women raped, who now raise orphaned children. Nothing has changed in 13 years, more social inequality, poverty, more difficulties for the people. The absence of democracy stays the same.
The poor’s living conditions have worsened dramatically as a result of more than 30 years of neoliberal policies imposed by the International Financial Institutions (IFIs), a severe exchange rate crisis, the freezing of the minimum wage, and inflation above 20% during the last three years.
It should be emphasized that, despite this dramatic situation, the Haitian people remain firm and are constantly mobilizing to prevent the consolidation of a dictatorship by demanding the immediate leave of office by former President Jovenel Moïse.
Taking into account the importance of this struggle and that this dictatorial regime still has the support of imperialist governments such as the United States of America, Canada, France, and international organizations such as the UN, the OAS, and the EU, the IPA calls its members to contribute their full and active solidarity to the struggle of the Haitian people, and to sign this Petition that demands the end of the dictatorship as well as respect for the sovereignty and self-determination of the Haitian people, the establishment of a transition government led by Haitians to launch a process of authentic national reconstruction.
In addition to expressing our solidarity with the Haitian people’s resistance, we call for our organisations to demonstrate in front of the embassies of the imperialist countries and before the United Nations. Only the Haitian people can decide their future. Down with Moise and yes to a people’s transition government, until a constituent is democratically elected.
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