I write from Haiti. The same Haiti currently subject to the U.S. State Department’s Level 4 Travel Advisory encouraging Americans to leave a DNA sample with their doctor and dental records with their family “in case it is necessary…to identify your remains.”
And yet.
Here in a small coastal city in the south of Haiti, there is beauty everywhere. Beauty in the laughter of teens hunched over chess boards. Beauty in the way the mayor beeps and waves to everyone he passes. Beauty in the hopeful smile of the expecting mother who trekked miles to arrive at the hospital for a prenatal visit.
I’m the director of a U.S. based nonprofit called Locally Haiti and for the past 37 years, we’ve been investing in the talents and commitment of local leaders in one rural city, Petit Trou de Nippes. I’m here listening to partners and celebrating recent progress — the community hospital we built and inaugurated in partnership with the Ministry of Health; increased enrollment in education and girls’ empowerment programs; urgently needed expansion of agriculture and food security initiatives.
These pockets of progress are life-changing for the families we work with, but they’re a drop in the bucket for a nation of 12 million confronting existential challenges. The challenges — violence in the capital, rampant unemployment and hunger, inadequate infrastructure — existed before the elimination of USAID funding, but they’ve been compounded by Elon Musk and his chainsaw. USAID could be frustrating, overly bureaucratic and slow to get resources in local hands. It also provided support for life-saving public health programs.
The idea that “zero” is the number of people who’ve died as a result of DOGE, as Musk claimed in a recent interview, is absurd. The elimination of USAID in Haiti resulted in nurses and doctors losing their paychecks (the ones I know have continued working) and HIV patients losing access to medication. USAID was a flawed institution, but it was saving lives and anyone claiming otherwise is demonstrating willful blindness.
Compounding these challenges is the elimination of Temporary Protected Status for 350,000 Haitian citizens living in the U.S. TPS was first extended to Haiti in 2010 after a 7.0 earthquake killed more than 200,000 and left 1.5 million homeless. The logic was simple — don’t deport families in a moment of crisis. Allow them to live and contribute in the U.S. until conditions in Haiti improve. They have not improved, and the end of TPS forces thousands to weigh a life in the shadows against a return to a homeland in turmoil.
There are levels to the wrongheadedness of this. First, the logical and moral fallacy of emphasizing the need for visitors’ DNA while declaring “it is safe for Haitian citizens to return home.” Second, the effects on the U.S. healthcare system, which braces for a staffing crisis following the loss of thousands of Haitian healthcare workers. Third, the effects on Haiti. Friends in Petit Trou are already feeling the absence of remittances from relatives no longer working legally in the U.S. — remittances that were spent on food, healthcare and education. In addition, some community leaders fear the strain that returning citizens may place on food systems. As always, neighbors will stretch to help neighbors. But resources are scarce.
The thing that is lost on talking heads like Megyn Kelly — who recently finished a vitriolic rant with “go back to f—ing Haiti” — is that Haitian people love Haiti deeply and many would go back in a heartbeat if it were a viable option. If the U.S. government is serious about immigration, a thoughtful reform of USAID aimed at ensuring investment reaches local institutions that make a lasting difference would be a step toward stabilizing the country and making TPS unnecessary in the long-term. Instead, we’ve cut investment that provided a lifeline while sending Haitian families back to a nation unprepared to receive them. It is incoherent, and it is shameful.
Wynn Walent is the executive director of Locally Haiti. He has worked in Haiti for more than 16 years, including in Port-au-Prince following the 2010 earthquake, with the St. Luke Foundation for Haiti.