Open Letter to the Nations Haiti Has Helped
By La Rédaction · Port-au-Prince
· 2 min read · Updated 24 April 2026
Translated from French — AI-assisted and reviewed by the editorial team. The French version is authoritative. Read the original · About our translation policy
To those who were once supported by the world's first Black Republic,
To you, peoples of Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Bolivia, Peru,
To you, people of Israel,
To you, heirs of Greece's independence struggles,
This letter is neither a cry of anger nor a plea for pity. It is a historical reminder, an act of remembrance, and a call for justice. There was a time when Haiti, weakened but free, extended a hand to enslaved peoples. It did so without an army of occupation, without strategic interest, but out of a deep conviction that freedom can only be preserved if it is shared.
In 1815, it armed Simón Bolívar to liberate the South American continent.
In 1821, as Greece rose up against the Ottoman Empire, Haitian President Jean-Pierre Boyer responded to a letter from the Greek insurgents. He sent them not only moral support, but also weapons and a shipment of coffee, intended to be sold to finance their struggle. Haiti, isolated, threatened, and drained, offered a distant people what it held most precious.
In 1947, it voted for the birth of Israel.
It was a beacon for slaves, a refuge for revolutionaries, an inspiration for oppressed peoples. And today?
Haiti is on the brink of an abyss. Its children flee or die. Its dignity is attacked, its voices are stifled. But the world looks away, including those it once helped.
However, if Haiti suffers today, it is not only because of itself. It also suffers for having been too alone in wanting to liberate others. Every weapon given, every word of support, every shelter offered, it paid for with its own stability, its wealth, its security. By helping others, Haiti awakened imperial angers, suffered disguised sanctions, and bore alone the weight of a disturbing freedom. What you see today is not a failure; it is the historical price of having been just, before the rest of the world. This letter is therefore a call for return; not a financial reimbursement, but a moral act, an assumed solidarity. We ask you, with fraternity but without equivocation:
• Clear and honest political support for the country's stabilization, as we did in the past;
• Direct, respectful, disinterested aid for the reconstruction of our institutions and our future, as we did in the past;
• Sincere and visible homage to Haiti's contribution to your own history. Ingratitude does not constitute a crime, but it wounds the very foundations of humanity. Today, you have the opportunity to write another page. A page where memory becomes action; where justice becomes fraternity; so that tomorrow, our children can say:
« Haiti, still standing, did not extend its hand in vain ». Former Senator Semephise Gilles
To you, peoples of Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Bolivia, Peru,
To you, people of Israel,
To you, heirs of Greece's independence struggles,
This letter is neither a cry of anger nor a plea for pity. It is a historical reminder, an act of remembrance, and a call for justice. There was a time when Haiti, weakened but free, extended a hand to enslaved peoples. It did so without an army of occupation, without strategic interest, but out of a deep conviction that freedom can only be preserved if it is shared.
In 1815, it armed Simón Bolívar to liberate the South American continent.
In 1821, as Greece rose up against the Ottoman Empire, Haitian President Jean-Pierre Boyer responded to a letter from the Greek insurgents. He sent them not only moral support, but also weapons and a shipment of coffee, intended to be sold to finance their struggle. Haiti, isolated, threatened, and drained, offered a distant people what it held most precious.
In 1947, it voted for the birth of Israel.
It was a beacon for slaves, a refuge for revolutionaries, an inspiration for oppressed peoples. And today?
Haiti is on the brink of an abyss. Its children flee or die. Its dignity is attacked, its voices are stifled. But the world looks away, including those it once helped.
However, if Haiti suffers today, it is not only because of itself. It also suffers for having been too alone in wanting to liberate others. Every weapon given, every word of support, every shelter offered, it paid for with its own stability, its wealth, its security. By helping others, Haiti awakened imperial angers, suffered disguised sanctions, and bore alone the weight of a disturbing freedom. What you see today is not a failure; it is the historical price of having been just, before the rest of the world. This letter is therefore a call for return; not a financial reimbursement, but a moral act, an assumed solidarity. We ask you, with fraternity but without equivocation:
• Clear and honest political support for the country's stabilization, as we did in the past;
• Direct, respectful, disinterested aid for the reconstruction of our institutions and our future, as we did in the past;
• Sincere and visible homage to Haiti's contribution to your own history. Ingratitude does not constitute a crime, but it wounds the very foundations of humanity. Today, you have the opportunity to write another page. A page where memory becomes action; where justice becomes fraternity; so that tomorrow, our children can say:
« Haiti, still standing, did not extend its hand in vain ». Former Senator Semephise Gilles
