THE GREAT DIGNITY OF A PEOPLE WHO NEVER GIVE UP

At the heart of the hell Haiti is going through today, a reality strikes anyone who looks at this people: they survive, they hold on, they suffer but they do not give in. Despite all that is destroyed, lost, or that hurts them, the Haitian people continue to stand tall on their dust, like a rootless tree that refuses to fall. And that is what makes them a unique people, a people who deserve the greatest respect. Port-au-Prince, the country's capital, is no longer a functional city. The informal economy, which has always been the engine of daily life, has almost completely collapsed. It was what sustained the majority of the population: small traders, motorcycle taxi drivers, small street services, workshops, street vendors, neighborhood micro-enterprises. Today, gangs have burned markets, blocked roads, destroyed everything that remained, and sown terror throughout all economic activity. There are no longer any markets, no transport, no local traffic. There is no longer any space for young people to sell, buy, work, learn, or build themselves. The economy is shut down. Daily life is 95% paralyzed. When the informal economy loses its breath, the entire social fabric collapses. Young people, already unemployed, without opportunities, without space to express themselves or grow, fall into a silence full of frustration. They don't live their youth. They don't live at all. They are on balconies, on social media, on motorcycles, waiting, watching life pass them by. And when no economic door opens to them, many take the path of despair: gangs, the sea, deviance, trafficking, illusions of quick wealth. The country does not produce its youth; it rejects them like waste. Despite all this, there is no uprising. There is no social explosion. The people do not protest. They do not burn institutions. They do not block the country. They remain seated, they observe, they endure. They carry their suffering without screaming it. They use jerrycans where there is no water, the light from their phone where there is no electricity, they cook on charcoal stoves where there is no gas. They act as if they depend on no one, on nothing, to continue living. This is not resignation; it is patience. This is not submission; it is wisdom. This is not fear; it is courage. This is what we call greatness. Some ask: « How do these people continue to survive? » When there is no work, no security, no state, no public service. And yet, they survive. It is thanks to family solidarity, to the money the diaspora sends, to family networks woven by blood, memory, and trust. It is hope, churches, traditions, drums, faith, the belief that a better tomorrow is possible. It is the spiritual, cultural, and historical response of a people who have already faced everything, but who always rise again. It is not normal, but it commands admiration. This people possesses within them a moral strength, a sacred energy, a cultural dignity that should make all the great powers of the world bow. It is not just a people who live; it is a people who wear a crown of suffering with dignity. But just because they hold on does not mean they should continue to suffer. Just because they do not cry out does not mean we should plug our ears. Just because they do not destroy does not mean we should continue to destroy them. This people deserves justice. They deserve recognition. They deserve a state. They deserve work. They deserve security. They deserve water, electricity, education, care. Not out of charity. But out of dignity. Out of right. Out of memory. Out of debt. Today, it is time. It is time to say it loud and clear, without shame or fear: the Haitian people are an exceptional people. A nation that stands where others would have long collapsed. They do not ask for favors; they demand respect. They do not hold out their hand for crumbs; they hold out their hand to build. They do not want to survive; they want to live. They want to breathe, develop, dream, rise. And if we do nothing for them today, tomorrow they will remind us of an implacable truth: their patience has limits. And if they reach that limit, they will no longer just claim what was refused to them. They will demand everything that was stolen from them. And Haiti will never be the same again.
Port-au-Prince, August 2, 2025 Joseph Georges DUPERVAL General Coordinator BATON JENÈS LA