In Haiti—but not just in Haiti—donors and politicians love infrastructure projects.
They’re tidy packages with a clear start and a finish—or so they appear. First a blueprint. Then cement. Mix it up and repair a drainage ditch, a rock wall to retain vanishing soil, a school perhaps. The sponsoring agency—be it CARE, the European Union, USAID, World Vision or a long list of others—erects a billboard describing the project and the amount spent. Cut the ribbon and snap the photo. Pass the new infrastructure over to the beneficiary. Voila la modernization!
But what if it wasn’t that simple? What if an infrastructure project did more harm than good?
If the new infrastructure is meant to form part of a community’s commons, a legacy for future generations, cultivating community ownership in the broadest sense is essential.
How was the beneficiary community involved in the project’s design? Who will manage and repair the new public works? Does the new infrastructure leave the community organization stronger than before or weakened by new challenges? In numerous case analyses and program evaluations, development experts like Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) Judith Tendler have discovered that these critical questions are often an afterthought in infrastructure projects. In Haiti, the rush to quickly spend billions of donated aid means that these afterthoughts often receive even shorter shrift than usual.
Retaining soil and retaining community leaders
On a recent trip to Haiti, I saw a weathered piece of sheet metal in Bayonnais touting a USAID soil conservation project. The stonewalls built through this cash-for-work program were intended to retain a denuded hillside that lost soil in the rains. Who can argue with an improvement like that?
Had they been consulted, the local small farmer organization, the Peasant Movement of Bayonnais (MPB in Kreyol) would have told USAID that May to December is a lousy time to recruit farmers to work on these projects. They would have protested that it’s unfair to tempt them with cash for work (of which they generally have little), when they ought to be tending their fields. They would have asked USAID to ensure that this project reinforces local leadership rather than undermines it through onerous administrative requirements and committee structures. The MPB’s own program design would have included weaving the new terraces into a broader environmental program that includes reforestation – and ensures that the saplings survive Haiti’ s brutal dry season. They would have defined who owns, manages and benefits from the new commons after the cement dries.
For over two decades, this membership organization has battled family hunger, training farmers in agroecological techniques to restore depleted land, increase sweet potato and manioc yield and protect water sources. Their volunteer leaders are a critical part of the social infrastructure that ensures the success of their agricultural development projects.
USAID agronomists with the WINNER program introduce technology packages to modernize agriculture in places like Bayonnais. They similarly seek to upgrade management systems. But farmers may be resistant to change, WINNER agronomist Philippe Bellerive said. “At times they are stubborn and it’s true that we are strict,” Bellerive said. “We won’t agree to support their old farming methods that don’t work and leave them hungry.”
Through discussions with both the agronomist and members of the peasant organization, it became painfully clear that while they share a vision of overcoming hunger, they otherwise live in parallel universes. Their farming methods and pedagogy vary greatly. As a previous long-time advocate for USAID working more closely with small farmer organizations, I return from Haiti wondering if a working marriage is really possible.
And the consequences of a dysfunctional marriage are great. That is, local farmers may say nah, I won’ t collect and pile brush to conserve soil – a low cost technique that the MPB has found to be effective at retaining dirt and restoring its fertility. No need to break my back nurturing saplings to trees. USAID will be along soon enough and pay me to construct stonewalls. No need to undertake a community project with my neighbors, attend a training, fan myself through another hot planning meeting.
With each development project cooked up in an air-conditioned office on an engineer’s desk, it gets harder to encourage volunteer participation and leadership in local organizations – the bottom line managers of a common.
Bringing Government Back
And the government as commons’ protector? Their role is sadly shrunken in Haiti. A long history of dependency and corruption, excessive centralization in Port au Prince, gutted ministries through government cutbacks and a flood of NGO projects that circumvent public agencies have stunted public coordination. Haitians’ safety net comes from neighbors, family members working in the United States and organizations like MPB. There is much work to be done to bring government back.
Alfredo Mena, the Dominican-born Interamerican Institute for Cooperation on Agriculture (IICA) representative to Haiti, estimates that there are 9,000 NGOs in Haiti. And they are all welcome to contribute to Haiti’s development, he said. But IICA and others have worked hard with the Haitian Ministry of Agriculture to craft a national plan for food security, a guidebook for agricultural development. Each cooperating development organization should study this public agency led plan and ensure their projects contribute to its successful implementation. Many don’t.
Clear that a functional government is essential to sustainable development, the MPB and rural networks like the Partnership for Local Development and Kaba Grangou seek to strengthen the capacity and involvement of local authorities. And even as the independent actions of some international aid agencies may undermine their public counterparts, more and more organizations admit that they can only make so much progress without a vibrant public sector. On the Haitian street, there’ s little of the sort of anti-government rhetoric so commonly heard in the States. The thirst for an active state is good news. The bad news is that Haitians are literally dying for lack of public services – with no clear plan for how to strengthen the public institutions that ought to be serving them.
Local consultation and public agency capacity building can be clunky and time consuming, frustrating to a development agency when needs are immediate and a road or hospital seems so straightforward. But for infrastructure to be durable for future generations, part of a community’s commons, development agencies must look beyond reinforcing cement to how they can fortify local organizations.