Again and again, talking to people of various backgrounds and political stripes, I heard of how Aristide's party has been acting recently in ways that are reminiscent of dictator Frangois "Papa Doc" Duvalier. It's hard for many Haitans to forget that Papa Doc came to power on a wave of noirisme, resentment of the elite light-skinned minority. And recently Lavalas members on state-run TV labeled mulattos of any ideological orientation as the "racist bourgeoisie" for the crime of criticizing Fanmi Lavalas (and by extension Aristide).

Dany Toussaint, a close confidant of Aristide and a newly elected senator, dismissively referred to several prominent mulattos including journalist Jean Dominique as "ti wouj" (the little red ones). Dominique had been an advisor to both Aristide and Preval. But he was murdered shortly after Toussaint's comment. That fact, and Dominique's intimations about Toussaint's alleged involvement in drug trafficking, shifted suspicion for the journalist's killing onto Lavalas.

And yet.

One goes downtown in Port-au-Prince to the slums of Bel Air, near the Palais Nacional, the crowded, congested streets of Avenue Jean-Jacques Dessalines, or the dusty, chaotic suburb of Delmas (favored base for the zenglendos) where, as one friend told me, "everyone gets robbed." You go to these neighborhoods and you are struck by the absolute belief that exists there that "Titid" (as Aristide is affectionately known) is the only man capable of solving Haiti's multitude of problems, the only man who has ever stood up for the poor, the only one who ever gave a damn.

The desperate, begging street boys on the Champs Mars dress in rags and sleep on the ground. I talked to young men who have moved from the countryside to the Cite Soleil and La Saline slums who have never found a job and probably never will. Old women sell fritays and fried bananas under the withering noonday sun. "N'ap toujou renme w Titid" (We will always love you Aristide) is scrawled on crumbling walls.

Some words come to mind that Aristide spoke, just days before the coup of 1991 forced him out of office and Cedras and company began an orgy of bloodletting unrivaled even in Papa Doc's time. Aristide, his back to the wall, had been informed of rumors that a plot was about to topple him and perhaps kill him, and that lists of his supporters who were also to be killed were being drawn up. This was the famous "Pere Lebraun" speech, which many in the media never tire of referring to as the moment when Aristide began calling for the "necklacing" of the opposition:

Again, under the flag of pride, under this flag of dignity, under this flag of solidarity, hand in hand, one encouraging the other, [...] each one will pick up the message of respect that I share with you, this message of justice that I share with you, so that the word ceases to be the word and becomes action. [...] it's you who will find what you deserve, according to what the Mother Law of the country declares.
One alone, we are weak,
Together we are strong. Together, together.
Together we are the flood (crowd: Frenzy!)
Do you feel proud? (crowd: Yeah!)
Do you feel proud? (crowd: Yeah!)

So true, that there is power in numbers. Whether or not Jean-Bertrand Aristide and Fanmi Lavalas are committed to using their popularity -- and, more important, Aristide's sacred relationship with many in the country -- to push forward a program of real democratic change remains to be seen, but the signs are not encouraging.

If they fail, or succumb to the temptations for a naked power grab that have too long plagued Haiti's rulers, their betrayal of the Haitian people will be doubly bitter, coming as it does on the backs of all who followed Aristide's clarion call for democracy to their graves: the voters at Ruelle Vaillant, the martyrs of St. Jean Bosco and the thousands who died under the junta of 1991-94.

As always in Haiti, only time (and not words) will bear out their true intentions. But they're walking on a razor's edge.

"With a strong government and parliament, and a strong political program," Neptune said to me toward the end of our interview, "we'll spend less time bickering over power, so the majority who represent the people will have enough time to concentrate on their jobs. I think that's what needs to happen. And it is about to happen."

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