Let's All Devour It: The Story of a Carved-Up Republic!

There was a time when governing meant guiding. Today, too often, it means sharing. Since 1992, the idea of a government of public salvation has introduced a dangerous principle into our political life: that of repartimientos. With each crisis, instead of a vision, a distribution has been proposed. Each party its ministry. Each group its piece of the State. As if national survival depended less on a project than on a sharing of positions. The country then became a table. The Republic, a dish. Between 1994 and 2004, the return of President Jean-Bertrand Aristide had opened a decade of relative stability. Ten years was enough to lay tracks, structure the administration, reform the State, modernize the economy. But the historic opportunity was not transformed into a lasting foundation. Political energy dissipated in urgency and survival. Then 2004–2006: a brief lull, a fragile window where a possible technocracy, a less partisan, more administrative State, was glimpsed. A breathing space. It was short-lived. With René Préval's presidency, another logic consolidated: neutralizing by integrating. Sharing to appease. Giving to silence. Inviting those who could harm to partake in the harvest. It was no longer just a compromise; it was a method. Power became a tool for political pacification through distribution. Since then, the Republic resembles a political host. It is broken, this is my body, divided among us and for the multitude, let us consume! Parties succeed one another, without coherent vision, without structured national project, without administrative continuity. We no longer debate direction; we negotiate portfolios. We no longer speak of transformation; we speak of balance between forces. The State ceases to be a strategist to become an arbiter of shares. And even today, as the country goes through one of the most serious crises in its contemporary history, the impression persists: it is about to be carved up again. The same hands hold the knives. The same voices demand their slice. It's like a political liturgy:
Let's all eat it, for this is the country delivered to us. But a country is not a cake. Power is not a host. The Republic is not a feast. No progress is possible in the logic of sharing without vision. Dividing ministries does not build an economy. Multiplying alliances does not produce public policy. Distributing power creates neither solid institutions, nor sustainable growth, nor social justice. A State is built on three pillars: a clear vision,
a structured plan, men and women capable of executing it. Without that, each sharing is an additional mutilation. Each compromise without a project weakens the collective capacity to act. And the people, for their part, watch the table without ever being invited to the feast. The truth is known to all, both internally and externally. A nation is not restored by fragmenting its authority. A crisis is not healed by multiplying the beneficiaries of the system. Power shared without direction becomes dilution. It disperses energy instead of concentrating it. To those who still hold their knives, ready to draw a new line on the country's fragile body, this must be said: A little pity. Pity for this land that does not need another division, but a reconstruction. Pity for this youth who expects something other than an arrangement between elites.
Pity for Haiti. For if the Republic continues to be eaten slice by slice, soon there will be nothing left to share. Yves Lafortune, New Orleans