Stories from a Divided Haiti

This is an expansion of an idea I threw out on Petike's Caribbean thread.

After the assassination of Dessalines in 1806, there was a power struggle between two of his generals, Henri Christophe and Alexandre Pétion. The two had very different backgrounds: Christophe was black and a former slave (although he apparently gained his freedom before the revolution), while Pétion was a light-skinned mulatto from a wealthy free-colored family. There was, then as now, a rivalry between the black population, which made up a majority of Haitians, and the mulattoes who formed most of the educated elite. The conflict between the generals was also ideological, with Pétion ostensibly favoring democracy and Christophe believing that an autocratic government was the only way to develop the country.

Neither was strong enough to prevail over the other, so the country was divided, with Christophe establishing the State of Haiti in the north and Pétion assuming the presidency of the Republic of Haiti in the south. In 1811, Christophe changed his title from president for life to king, declaring the Kingdom of Haiti and creating a class of landed nobles. The northern nobility was almost all black, while the southern republic was dominated by the free-coloreds.

The two states followed very different development patterns. In the north, Christophe continued the efforts of Toussaint and Dessalines to keep a cash-crop economy going by forcing the peasants to perform corvee labor on the plantations. Pétion broke up the plantations and distributed them to the peasantry, who became yeoman farmers. The north was thus able to earn a great deal of foreign exchange through trade with foreign (mostly British) merchant ships, while the south became a nation of subsistence farmers who contributed little if any revenue to the state. On the other hand, the southern population was content under Pétion, while Christophe was hated both for the forced-labor system and because he spent all the export earnings on castles, lavish entertainments and other kingy things.

Ultimately, Pétion declared himself president for life (which is depressingly common among Haitian leaders), died in office without being overthrown (which is depressingly uncommon) and was succeeded by Jean-Pierre Boyer. Christophe, meanwhile, committed suicide in 1820 to avoid a coup; his son and heir was killed soon afterward, and Boyer reunited Haiti as a republic. It was Boyer who would go on to conquer the Dominican Republic (which would last until 1844) and conclude peace with France, under the guns of French warships in Port-au-Prince harbor, in return for an indemnity of 150 million francs.

Now, the POD. Let's posit a Christophe who's just as authoritarian as in OTL but not as fond of gaudy castles. He still takes over the north, declares himself king (figuring that a monarchy might get more respect from Europe, and that creating a peerage is the quickest way to make a black elite class) and forces the peasants into semi-serfdom, but he spends most of the foreign exchange revenue on actual development projects. The peasants thus see that their labor is being repaid in an increased standard of living, and while they still don't like many features of the Christophe regime, they aren't angry enough to overthrow it. Christophe thus dies in bed (probably not long after his OTL death, as he was in poor health) and passes the throne to his heir, Prince Jacques-Victor Henry.

So we have two Haitis, with different elite classes and development paths. The first question is what happens with the Dominican Republic. In OTL, it considered joining Gran Colombia after its 1821 declaration of independence, but many of its leaders were pro-Haitian, and Boyer was able to take over without much of a fight. In this timeline, there are several possibilities. The first is that neither of the Haitian states is strong enough to make a credible bid for control, resulting in eastern Hispaniola becoming part of Gran Colombia albeit with a restive black and mulatto population. Alternatively, either the Republic of Haiti or the Kingdom of Haiti - more likely the latter, given its greater wealth and development - could march in. Would the new Haitian overlords make the same mistake as OTL - i.e., treating the Dominican Republic as free land to be parceled out to Haitian generals - or would they find some way to co-opt the Dominicans? I could actually see Christophe's kingdom, for all its autocracy, doing a better job of this if it makes the black Dominican leaders into nobles and grants them landed estates.

Second, what happens with France? In OTL, as noted, France extorted an enormous indemnity from Boyer, which wasn't fully paid off until the 1880s and which entrenched Haitian poverty beyond hope of recovery. In this timeline, would France still pursue that indemnity, and if so, from one or both states? Would the northern kingdom, with its de facto alliance with Britain, be able to tell France to go pound sand? The south under Boyer would be much weaker - even weaker than OTL, in fact - but it would also be too poor to pay any significant indemnity, and France might not consider it worth the trouble to try to get one. If so, the cold-war status quo would continue until France decided to recognize Haitian independence on its own (I'd guess no later than 1848), but Haiti would also be spared a crippling debt burden.

Finally, what about the long-term future of Haiti? Boyer would probably be safe from internal threats: the Republic's yeoman population was happy enough, and in this timeline he probably wouldn't have the 1844 Dominican debacle to bring him down. But would the Kingdom try to reunite the country by force? Or would the Kingdom have problems of its own - if Christophe died in 1825, for instance, his heir would only be 21 years old and might not be able to handle the intrigues of ambitious generals and nobles. Assuming both states do last into the late nineteenth century, though, what would be the effect of having a relatively rich, black-dominated state centered on Cap-Haïtien and a more democratic but poorer mulatto-dominated one at Port-au-Prince?
 
Last edited:
All right, if nobody's biting, here's one possibility. Any other ideas?
_______

Western Hispaniola is divided into the Kingdom of Haiti, comprising the departments of Saint-Nicolas, Le Cap, Liberté, Nord-Artibonite (sometimes called Dessalines) and Guayamou [1], and the Republic of Haiti, comprising the departments of Artibonite, Peligre, Pétion, Sud-Est, Péninsule, Grand'Anse and Gonâve [2].



The Kingdom of Haiti is a monarchy under the house of Christophe. Historically autocratic - there was no elected legislature from 1807 to 1890, and it was 1911 before the popularly elected body had any real power - it remains so, with the king retaining considerable constitutional power and the 523-member Chambre des Pairs, comprised mainly of landed nobles, acting as an upper house of the legislature. The lower house, the Chambre des Députés, has 177 members and, since the 1930 constitution established responsible government, the prime minister always has to come from this house.

The Republic of Haiti is governed by a president elected for a single six-year term and a single-chamber, 223-member legislature, the Assemblée nationale. The Republic has experienced revolutions and bouts of dictatorship, with four presidents styling themselves rulers for life, but since 1945 has been a stable democracy. The governing class, however, continues to be made up disproportionately of a light-skinned mulatto elite, and black aspirations for a greater share of the economy and government make elections passionate and sometimes volatile affairs.

*******


Political parties of the Kingdom of Haiti


  • Parti du progrès et développement: This is the "palace party," which supports (and is supported by) the king, and which receives enormously preferential treatment from the state media and election officials. Its ideology is flexible, given that it is centered around a person rather than a principle, but it broadly supports the interests of the landed nobles and the urban comprador class, and supports cosmetic nationalist measures such as increased use of Creole. Its voters come mainly from the nobles' rural clientele, and its deputies are usually technocrats favored by the king (the nobles themselves are in the Chambre des Pairs). The party's strong support in the upper house makes it the default governing party even when, as now, it lacks a majority in the lower house, but minority PPD governments have to make ad hoc coalitions with the opposition in order to enact legislation.

  • Parti dessaliniste: Traditionally the strongest opposition party, the PD is highly nationalist and populist. It advocates recognizing Vodou as an official faith and Creole as the sole official language, nationalizing foreign-owned industries and commercial concerns, and a comprehensive social-welfare program for the peasants and urban working class. Although its opposition to the PPD is passionate, the PD has historically been the easiest faction for the ruling party to work with, as it advocates neither large-scale land reform nor the abolition of the monarchy, and most of its legislative platform is compatible with (or at least not adverse to) the PPD's.

  • Parti du terre et travail: The PTT is historically a small party but has recently eclipsed the PD in rural areas to become the second-largest faction in the Chambre des Députés. It is not opposed to the monarchy but is strongly anti-noble, seeking to disband the Chambre des Pairs and break up the landed estates into cooperatives of yeoman farmers. It also supports a social-welfare program similar to the PD's, and has been able to enact some aspects of that program during periods when the PDD has been in the minority.

  • Parti républicain: This faction seeks to abolish both the monarchy and the nobility, and to institute a republic along the lines of southern Haiti. Opinions within the party are divided on whether to unite with the south after establishing this republic (which would entail considerable economic costs) or remain independent. The key supporters of the PR are the urban middle class, who feel shut out of the political and social elite, and as such, it tends to support free-market reforms as well as social liberalization. The PR is currently the smallest major party in the Chambre des Députés (there are a few splinter factions and regional parties that are smaller) but as the Kingdom becomes more urbanized, it is expected to grow in significance.

*******

Political parties of the Republic of Haiti


  • Parti libéral pétioniste: This is the Republic's "establishment party," a big-tent party of the governing class that is the mirror of the Kingdom's PDD, albeit nowhere near as hegemonic. It is socially liberal and supports the interests of the upper-middle-class urban mulattoes, favoring the cities in the development of infrastructure, educational and cultural institutions. Its economic policies are broadly capitalist, but it has evolved from its laissez-faire roots and now supports the minimum wage (enacted after the 1945 revolution) and certain market regulations. It currently holds 91 seats in the Assemblée nationale, making it the largest party but far from a majority.

  • Parti noiriste: The PN's ideology is similar to that of the Kingdom's Parti dessaliniste, and the two parties in fact consider themselves branches of a single faction. It supports the economic and political empowerment of the black majority, official status for Creole, legalization of Vodou (which remains nominally illegal, albeit tolerated) and strict enforcement of the laws prohibiting foreigners from owning real property or a majority stake in Haitian companies. The PN has 64 seats in the legislature and, in the 2011 presidential election, its candidate won a second-round majority, catapulting it to the Republic's highest office for only the second time.

  • Parti socialiste: The party of the urban working class, the PS supports many of the PN's social prescriptions but is internationalist rather than nationalist in outlook, and advocates closer ties with France and the French Caribbean. The PS' economic program includes the encouragement of collective and cooperative farming, employee ownership of urban business enterprises, and targeted infrastructure development in non-elite areas. It has historically been a small party in a country that is still mostly rural, but with environmental degradation fueling movement to the cities, its strength has increased. It currently holds 39 seats in the Assemblée nationale and, along with the PN and the PTP, sits in government.

  • Parti des travailleurs et paysans: The PTP is a rural-based party with one objective: to protect yeoman farmers against the loss of their land. Its platform emphasizes debt forgiveness, price supports for small-scale cash-crop farming, rural infrastructure and primary education, combined with a PN-esque appeal to the traditional folkways of rural Haiti. It has historically been a minor party and holds 18 seats in the Assemblée nationale, but has often (as now) been the kingmaker in coalition politics.

  • Parti vert: The newest of the parties in the Assemblée nationale, the PV was formed out of concern for the deforestation and desertification caused by widespread subsistence agriculture. It is a one-issue party with mostly-elite support, as its prescriptions would end many common subsistence-farming practices and cause short-term economic disruption in the interior. The PV has 11 legislative seats.
_______

[1] OTL Nord-Ouest, Nord, Nord-Est and the northern parts of Centre and Artibonite.

[2] In OTL, the southern parts of Artibonite and Centre departments followed by mainland Ouest, Sud-Est, Sud, Grand'Anse and the Île de la Gonâve.

 
Hmm. Long-term, how's the US going to feel about a possibly British-supported monarchy hanging out in the Western Hemisphere?
 
Hmm. Long-term, how's the US going to feel about a possibly British-supported monarchy hanging out in the Western Hemisphere?
I'm not sure the Kingdom of Haiti would be big enough to be considered a threat. Haiti's population wasn't as concentrated in Port-au-Prince then as it is now, but the north would be the less populous of the two states. My guess is that population movements would cancel out - for every southerner who comes north to find a better-paying job, there would be a northerner who defects to the south (as many did in OTL) to escape forced labor - and that the Kingdom would remain under a million people through the nineteenth century. It wouldn't be like the Second Mexican Empire, which (a) was big, (b) directly bordered the United States, and (c) was ruled by an actual Habsburg; I'd guess that the United States would leave it alone unless Britain did something provocative like trying to build a naval base there.

Another fun fact about the Kingdom of Haiti: Henri Christophe imported soldiers from Dahomey to serve as his Varangian Guard. Assuming this practice continues under his ATL successors, would northern Haiti maintain close ties to parts of French West Africa during the colonial period and after?
 
I wouldn't picture either state trying to conquer the other, or if so, it would be a bloody, useless attempt. The Kingdom may have GB's blessing, but it is smaller in terms of population. The Republic is larger, but a pariah, and primarily agricultural.
It is quite possible what is now the Dominican republic goes with Gran Columbia. When the boat over turns, it gains independence with a greater S. American influence.

The Republic may just be stable enough to avoid becoming a tinpot dictatorship every few years, as will the Kingdom, but I severely doubt either of them will be as powerful as Haiti was when it invaded Dominica.
 
Wonder how they deal with the 2010 earthquake?
The earthquake didn't do much harm in the north, so the Kingdom wouldn't be badly affected. The impact in the south would depend on how stable and prosperous it is: if the buildings are sturdier, the damage would be less, and if the government is effective, then it could coordinate the recovery and rebuilding with outside aid. On the other hand, if conditions similar to OTL prevail - extreme poverty and a government without much effective control outside the cities - then the south might be in even worse shape, given that it wouldn't have a working port at Cap-Haïtien for aid delivery or a reasonably undamaged northern hinterland to absorb some of the displaced population.

I wouldn't picture either state trying to conquer the other, or if so, it would be a bloody, useless attempt. The Kingdom may have GB's blessing, but it is smaller in terms of population. The Republic is larger, but a pariah, and primarily agricultural.
That's more or less what I was thinking: there might be a few wars between the two states, but unless one of them collapses from within, neither will be able to conquer the other.

It is quite possible what is now the Dominican republic goes with Gran Columbia. When the boat over turns, it gains independence with a greater S. American influence. The Republic may just be stable enough to avoid becoming a tinpot dictatorship every few years, as will the Kingdom, but I severely doubt either of them will be as powerful as Haiti was when it invaded Dominica.
Neither will be that powerful, but they may still be strong enough: the Dominican Republic at that time had less than 100,000 people and much of the black and mulatto population was pro-Haitian, so a relatively stable state that comprises even half of Haiti might be able to move in. On the other hand, the Republic and the Kingdom would each have an incentive to stop the other one from taking over the DR, and they would both likely be distracted by internal issues. So on balance, I'd bet on the DR joining Gran Colombia and becoming a more South American-influenced state as you say, but retaining a significant pro-Haitian faction because the Haitian occupation would not have alienated the people.
 
At the Citadel



The mountains were another country.

The capital wasn’t a large city, and outside the port it was a sleepy one, but news came there, and it at least felt like there was a world beyond. In these villages, no news ever came. They were all the same, all timeless: the peasants might have a few things that their ancestors didn’t, but they were as isolated as they’d been before the revolution.

No wonder the duke doesn’t know, Dumarsais realized. Here on the massif, every nobleman and landlord was a king unto himself. The duke was these peasants’ governor, his men kept them safe from robbers, and they brought their quarrels to his manor court; no wonder he thought he was impregnable.

If the Black Prince became king, he wouldn’t be. No one would be.

Dumarsais rode on through the gathering twilight, past clusters of houses with glowing hearths. The peasants were coming in from the plantation, or from the plots that were theirs to tend on the days when they weren’t working the duke’s fields. It was a fine evening, and many of them were taking their meals outside, drinking beer and passing the time with their neighbors.

In Cap-Haïtien, people had eaten like that once, sitting out on their balconies and sharing a companionable sunset with the city. Dumarsais himself had done so, a lifetime ago, in the house he shared with his Caroline. But no one went outside at night anymore, with the Black Prince abroad.

Another turn in the road, with the light almost gone, and finally he saw it: a low, forbidding stone mansion, looming in the shadows like an ancient growth from the earth itself. Above the gate was a banner, showing a sword and key on a green field, flanked by rampant lions and surmounted by a knightly helm: the arms of the Duke of Marmelade. [1]



The lord was expecting no visitors, and the doorman started at Dumarsais’ appearance, but recognized him nonetheless. “Mesye Estimé,” he said, bowing. “My lord the duke is inside. The Count of Limonade [2] is with him.”

Dumarsais bowed his head in return, and followed the servant through silent corridors into the great hall. The duke was there, and the count as well: not in the Savile Row suits that they affected on their rare visits to the city, but dressed like country noblemen normally were, in clothing not much different from the peasants. A silver pendant around the duke’s neck, bearing his shield, was the only thing that would distinguish him if he were to walk through one of his villages. That, and…

Marie-Claire. The duchess. She, too, was dressed in peasant clothes, but even in rags she would look like a queen. She was an obsidian jewel, the heart of Africa made flesh, and once, Dumarsais and the duke had been rivals for her affection. He looked at her and bowed in greeting, not daring to smile.

God help her if the Black Prince ever learned of her.

“You are not expected, Mesye,” the duke said. “If you aren’t in the city, who’s looking after my affairs?”

“Soulouque is capable. He can do your business until I return. But the one looking after your affairs is me, still me. That’s why I’m here. To warn you.”

The Count of Limonade leaned over the table, a half-full glass of dark wine in his hand. “What warning is so dire that you can’t send Soulouque to deliver it?” His voice held annoyance, but also the beginning of fear.

“The king is dying. He has weeks to live, maybe days. And when he dies, there will be a revolution. It will be a republic then, or else the Black Prince, if you don’t act.”

“The Black Prince?” the duke asked. “We’ve heard stories…”

“The stories are true.” And more than true. When the duke had last been to the capital, the prince was still a boy. He was still one now, in fact: hard though it was to believe, he was only twenty years old. But his soul was an ancient one, and an evil one…

Dressed head to toe in black, the clothing of Baron Samedi. Speaking with the loa’s voice, every word both a joke and a death-sentence. Bringing death, like a man ridden by the Baron would do. Death and torture, striking at random like Agau’s lightning, and the prince being who he is, no one escapes. My Caroline…

Dumarsais breathed deeply. “Mesye Duc. You know I am a skeptical man. But no one can see the prince now without believing that he is one possessed. When the king dies, those that hate him will fight those that fear him, and if he wins, his terror will be worse than Dessalines’, worse even than Rochambeau’s.”

The two noblemen waited for him to finish, but something in his voice had convinced them he was telling the truth. Or maybe it hadn’t been his voice. He was a steady man – had been, so long ago in the city – and if he had come all the way here, something more than shadows must be chasing him.

“What would you have us do?” the duke asked.

“Gather your men. Bring them down from the mountains and make another prince the king, one who will rule well and bring reform. Or else you will face a republic or the Black Prince, and neither will be content to leave you alone.”

The count said nothing, but he took another bottle from the table and poured three glasses. “Drink,” he said, waving a hand at Dumarsais. “Before we act, we must make an offering.”

Dumarsais picked up a glass and, as the other two men drank, poured the liquid down his throat. It was rum, but the heat of many peppers had been added to it, and it was all he could do to stop from choking.

“A bit of Maman Brigitte’s fire,” the duke said. “We oppose death with death.” He took the bottle again and poured a libation on the floor, watching the fiery liquid seep through the boards.

Maman Brigitte is Baron Samedi’s wife, Dumarsais realized. He was a skeptic – most city men were – but here in the country, it seemed, the loa were powerful, and a chill went through him that had nothing to do with the night air. Once he would have scoffed at the idea that Maman Brigitte might send warning to her husband, but in this place, the danger felt very real.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” said the count, who must have noticed something in Dumarsais’ expression. “Maman Brigitte is fickle as Erzulie. And what better way to distract the Baron than to make him jealous?”

The count and duke laughed, but Dumarsais didn’t. He was looking at Marie-Claire, and wondering how jealous the duke would have been, in the world that almost was. Was his lord jealous of his presence even now? The duke, too, was a dangerous man, and unleashing him against the Black Prince was opposing death with death indeed. If the need weren’t so dire, if the earth didn't demand vengeance…

“You will stay the night,” the duchess said. How like her, to sense that the silence needed to be broken. “There will be time enough to ride in the morning. Have you eaten?”

“I’m not hungry,” answered Dumarsais. “And if my lady will excuse me…”

“Of course. You remember where your room is?”

He did: his feet carried him without conscious thought, to the room that had been his in the days when he’d managed the Marmelade plantation. The chamber was dusty but the bed was made, and it would do for the night.

The curtains were open, and Dumarsais fell onto the bed without closing them. The moon was large outside, and a cloud pierced it like an assassin’s dagger.

-- 1890​


_______

[1] This was an actual noble title created by Henri Christophe.

[2] So was this. (Both titles were the names of plantations-turned-fiefdoms).
 
Last edited:
^Wow, great beginning there!

If Haiti stays divided, I think the biggest question about its future development concerns the indemnity that, as you aptly put it, was extorted out the republic by France. If there are 2 Haitis, what would happen with it? Would it not happen at all? Would it be extorted from Petion/Boyer's republic but not Christophe's kingdom? Or would it be demanded from both?
 
If Haiti stays divided, I think the biggest question about its future development concerns the indemnity that, as you aptly put it, was extorted out the republic by France. If there are 2 Haitis, what would happen with it? Would it not happen at all? Would it be extorted from Petion/Boyer's republic but not Christophe's kingdom? Or would it be demanded from both?
France still claimed all of its former colony, and planters in both states suffered losses during the revolution, so its demands would extend to both the Kingdom and the Republic. Whether it would actually be able to enforce those demands is another question. The Kingdom would be most able to pay, but would also be most able to resist. The Republic would be weak but also poor, and would have less worth taking than the unitary state of OTL.

My guess is that, as to the Kingdom, France would bluff and intimidate, and might even bombard Cap-Haïtien after Christophe tells them where to stick their demands, but that it would have no stomach for another land war in Haiti and wouldn't take things any farther than that. It might be able to extort a settlement from the Republic, but would probably have to accept less than OTL - or, in the best case, the Republic would be able to string the negotiations along until 1830, after which Louis-Philippe would be unlikely to take a hard line.

The economic assumptions I'm making for 2012, BTW, is that the Kingdom's per capita GDP is roughly equivalent to St. Vincent or the Dominican Republic (or maybe, in the best case, St. Lucia), while the Republic is equal to Nicaragua or Honduras - it gets points for stability, and also for having a government competent enough to build rural infrastructure, but those factors only take it so far.

Jonathan, as always you know how I feel about your timelines. I'll make sure the others know of your work.
Thanks, your appreciation is always appreciated!

This won't be a timeline as such: more likely an Orsinian Tales-type collection of stories involving different characters at different times and places. This one was 1890; the next might be 1830 or 2010, depending on inspiration. There will be plenty of Vodou, especially up north, but no zombies, and updates will be occasional.

Now back to Malê Rising (although I'd still appreciate any thoughts anyone may have on either the story or the thread topic).
 
It seems that a (barely) success story this small and obscure won't be sufficient to really impact upon the established paradigma.
 
Hm, assuming the DR does'nt join Gran Colombia, I wonder if it'd be possible to see both the Haiti's invade it, leading to a situation where Hispaniola is divided into two states like OTL, but on a North-South basis rather the OTL West-East.
 

Razgriz 2K9

Banned
Wasn't Haiti OTL a US Puppet much of the time anyway? I would assume then that a weaker version would probably put the US more on the path to annexation.
 
How would the various Haitian Militaries develop with the two seperate nation-states?
In OTL, the Haitian military got reorganized a lot, generally being reshuffled after each coup. That would happen in this timeline as well, because neither state would be immune from armed coups and revolutions.

Subject to that caveat, my guess is that the Kingdom would have a fairly large standing army supplemented by territorial reserve forces (initially under the command of the landed nobles, but coming under civil control in the twentieth century) and that the Republic would have a much smaller army and rely more heavily on territorial militias. There would also be irregular forces in the deep interior, similar to OTL's cacos, which probably wouldn't be subdued until sometime in the twentieth century; these would be much more of a problem for the Republic than the Kingdom.

Will a successful black state do anything to upset racial Darwinism, or would it just get swept under the rug?
It seems that a (barely) success story this small and obscure won't be sufficient to really impact upon the established paradigma.
I suspect that it would be swept under the rug: given that nineteenth-century scientific racism was (mostly) a theory invented to justify an existing system, any inconvenient facts would be ignored or reinterpreted to suit.

In the Republic's case, any success it has would either be dismissed or attributed to mulatto rule; in the Kingdom's case, the racial Darwinists might say "slavery is such a good system that even the blacks continue to use it." (Christophe's system was serfdom rather than slavery - the peasants were legal persons, had the right to own property in addition to their plantation work obligations, and were collectively entitled to one fourth of the plantations' profits - but as noted, facts would be reinterpreted to suit.)

Hm, assuming the DR does'nt join Gran Colombia, I wonder if it'd be possible to see both the Haiti's invade it, leading to a situation where Hispaniola is divided into two states like OTL, but on a North-South basis rather the OTL West-East.
Looking at a physical map of the DR, I'd guess that any such division would be southwest to northeast, with the Kingdom picking up the territory north and east of the central massif while the Republic would get the southwestern valleys and coastline. That would potentially open the possibility of part of the DR staying with Haiti while the rest becomes independent, assuming that one of the Haitian states can avoid alienating the Dominicans (possibly by learning from the mistakes of the other).

I'm not sure the Dominicans would agree to a partition, though. The 1822 Haitian invasion was done with partial Dominican consent; several of the border governors pledged loyalty to Haiti, and the Haitian army took Santo Domingo without a fight. If the invasion were a blatant partition of the DR rather than a unification of the island under black rule, the Dominicans might not be so willing to cooperate, and might even seek aid from Gran Colombia against the Haitians. The Dominican mountains are good guerrilla territory, and they could make life hell for Haitian invaders just as the Haitians did for the French.

For what it's worth, though, the most pro-Haitian part of the DR was apparently the Cibao region, which is immediately adjacent to the Kingdom. So another possibility would be the Kingdom expanding into the northwestern part of the DR while the rest joins Gran Colombia.

How is a Haiti that's even weaker than OTL is not a US puppet, or even directly annexed.
Wasn't Haiti OTL a US Puppet much of the time anyway? I would assume then that a weaker version would probably put the US more on the path to annexation.
Direct annexation is a money-loser, not to mention that any attempt to annex Haiti would face the kind of anti-imperialist opposition that precluded annexation of Cuba, and that the US would be very wary of annexing a black country (or two of them) that would eventually demand statehood. With the exception of Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands, the US historically preferred to puppetize and occasionally occupy Caribbean and Latin American countries rather than annexing them, and I don't see that changing if Haiti is divided.

That said, the two states probably would become subsidiary allies (read puppets) of the US unless they can find other patrons. In the case of the Kingdom (which might not be weaker than OTL), that would be the UK; for the Republic, it would have to be either France, which would in turn require the recognition negotiations to be dragged out beyond 1830 and result in a more amicable settlement, or Germany, which made a bid in OTL and whose growing influence was one of the reasons for the 1915 invasion.

In any event, the Kingdom of Haiti is too damn good a setting not to use. :p
 
Looking at a physical map of the DR, I'd guess that any such division would be southwest to northeast, with the Kingdom picking up the territory north and east of the central massif while the Republic would get the southwestern valleys and coastline. That would potentially open the possibility of part of the DR staying with Haiti while the rest becomes independent, assuming that one of the Haitian states can avoid alienating the Dominicans (possibly by learning from the mistakes of the other).
I was thinking like one of them doing so like OTL, but the other, worried about being totally surrounded and its rival made so much stronger invades the part the other has'nt.
 
Top