Hugue CÉLESTIN
Former Deputy
On Tuesday, November 25, 2025, even before dawn broke the horizon and the bright Morning Star disappeared, the American government had already unleashed a thermonuclear diplomatic bomb. It further darkened the already murky sky of the Presidential Transitional Council (PTC), this collection of thugs recycled into institutional robbers who treat the Nation as an ATM. As always, an army of pseudo-patriots began to scream nationalism, rehashing anti-interference, anti-American, anti-Canadian, anti-international community slogans. These cries are launched with mechanical fervor by the same employees, subcontractors, and lackeys who live on their knees before these foreign powers, and pretend to bite the hand that feeds them.
Surprisingly, this wave of sovereignist rage even contaminated some usually lucid intellectuals, sincere militants for real change. They forgot that they were merely serving as loudspeakers for the discourse of an arrogant fraction of the upper-middle-class aristocracy. These people in power, who have always collaborated with foreign entities while begging for territorial occupation and dependence to bureaucratize ruin. These same individuals, yesterday applauded foreign sanctions against their own compatriots, not out of a sense of justice, but out of the Pavlovian reflex of the well-trained colonized. They rejoice as soon as a White person strikes a Haitian, just to feel a little closer to the master, hoping for a few crumbs of recognition.
Today, Maurice A. Sixto stands out; he brilliantly caricatured domesticity in Ti Sentaniz. It is a complete manual of social psychology, a raw X-ray of the relationship between « restavèk » and « mètrès kay ». The « restavèk » is not just an exploited child, but the exact mirror of Haitian leaders facing their masters after the assassination of Jean Jacques Dessalines. First, they impoverished the peasantry by paying the ransom for the robbery by French King Charles X in 1825. Shamelessly, they delivered the country to American imperialism from 1915 to the present day. Throughout our history, they have continuously commodified the country's destruction.
The relationship of dependence is never egalitarian; it is based on control, hierarchy, submission, and domination, where one commands and the other bows their head. Sixto understood this well: the life of a « restavèk » is the perfect metaphor for Haiti under guardianship. In this political dynamic, the « mètrès kay » are the major embassies, but especially the American embassy, while Haitian leaders are merely luxury « restavèk ». When their masters tire of their services, they sanction them just as the « mètrès kay » punishes « Ti Sentaniz ». This translates into a report, a diplomatic note, a canceled visa, a frozen account, to remind them who is in charge. Frankly, Sixto showed that dependence breeds humiliation, and humiliation, in turn, reproduces dependence.
The leaders consider themselves strategists, « leaders », thinkers, especially when they have shaken three hands in Washington or Brussels, and then believe themselves to be « Chantoutou ». They think they participate in decisions and imagine that their blind loyalty will protect them. However, this protection only lasts until the day they dare to utter a wrong word or commit a wrong act. They believed they had gained friendship, when in fact they had only obtained tolerance, useful in dealings with a valet as long as he stays in his place. When one builds their career, prestige, legitimacy, and privileges on dependence, humiliation occurs sooner or later as a reminder of the natural order of things. This is the price to pay for having renounced dignity. « Ou rantre an restavèk, y ap trete w an bon restavèk ! »
Listening to « Ti Sentaniz », one immediately understands that dignity is not a slogan, but a posture. « Ti Sentaniz » bows, obeys, trembles, and immediately blows rain down. Many ignore that the law of dependence does not only concern the household of « Ti Sentaniz »'s « mètrès kay », it also governs international relations. With Sixto, this principle manifests in the relationship between a « mètrès kay » and the « restavèk » she exploits and abuses. In the Haitian political theater, it plays out in embassies, NGOs, and international conferences, where officials behave like « Ti Sentaniz »: « Wi, misye ! Wi, madanm ! Nou konprann ! Nou dakò ! N ap swiv rekomandasyon w yo ! »
Respect belongs to those who remain consistent, dignified, and sovereign, not to servants whom great powers manipulate and use as they please. Faced with nations that resist, even tiny, poor, or isolated ones, they are forced to show a semblance of respect. Haiti is the « Ti Sentaniz » of international relations: excessively obedient, endlessly pleading, and too dependent for anyone to deign to listen. This is why audacity must be revalued, this quality that has frightened Haitian leaders since they confused governing a country with flattering foreigners. Dignity must be rehabilitated, this posture that « Ti Sentaniz » could never afford, but which adult Haitians have no excuse not to adopt. In international relations, leaders must know that aid always demands a price, that support is paid for with loyalty, and that « generosity » always hides a hand pulling the strings.
It is time for Haitian elites to relearn verticality: to stand tall, speak tall, govern tall, decide tall, without begging, without a guardian, and without an ambassador's stamp. This lack of backbone, this postural disorder, this true pathology of verticality has trapped us in the chaotic quagmire where we are floundering today.
Grand Pré, Quartier Morin, November 26, 2025
Hugue CÉLESTIN
Member of:
- Federasyon Mouvman Demokratik Katye Moren (FEMODEK)
- Efò ak Solidarite pou Konstriksyon Altènativ Nasyonal Popilè (ESKANP)