The Most Repugnant Elite According to Brian Dean Curran: The Nausea Continues!

To Fritz Gérald Calixte, MPA, Esq.! On July 9, 2003, Ambassador Brian Dean Curran spat the truth in the face of the Haitian elite: the crisis was not just political, nor just economic—it was moral. In a country on its knees, he dared to name the unnameable: The Most Repugnant Elite. An elite that devours, rots, and applauds as soon as a foreigner scourges it, as if the master's slap were a blessing. What did this elite do? It straightened up in its gilded armchairs, smiled, clapped its hands. The white man had spoken. The sermon was delivered. Amen. They had understood nothing. They had learned nothing. Twenty-two years later, the spectacle is even more obscene. Two senior officials from major banks sanctioned. Media moguls cited, indexed. Businessmen, once praised, now conflated with the same bandits they financed, armed, and fed. The godfathers have become the children of their own monsters. And the country continues to wallow in this macabre theater where corruptors and criminals share the same VIP box. Let's say it: this elite is not just repugnant, it is pestilential. It does not govern, it contaminates. It does not invest, it vampirizes. It does not uplift, it strangles. This is why we feel nauseous: not the fleeting nausea of a morning after a party, but a chronic, national nausea, an infection that has persisted since the day Curran put words to our putrefaction. Digging from the bottom? Yes, because there is no surface left. Everything has collapsed. If we do not descend into the mud to find a single stone, just one, on which to place our steps, we will continue to dance in this swamp with vultures disguised as captains of industry. It is time to tear off the mask of the « honorables. » To say that the bank that launders deserves the same hell as the gang that kills. To affirm that the complicit businessman deserves the same jail as the kidnapper he financed. The elite celebrated at cocktail parties is merely the other face of the underworld that reigns in the streets. Curran was right. But his gospel found no apostles. Today, perhaps, it is up to us to be the heretics who cry out, who burn, who refuse complicity. For with such persistent nausea, we will have to vomit out this rotten world, or die suffocated by its stench. I love Haiti with all my strength, and I know what I could do for my country. Finally! The spectacle in the country is absolutely saddening. Arrests of thieving, lying businessmen, and often it's only because « the white man » has acted. The eternal is great: the white man has spoken, the white man acts, and national justice, as usual, awakens late. The former director of TNH is arrested for embezzlement; his impressive appearance on a Guyanese channel is recalled. We laughed, then we forgot. And yet he was renewed to the detriment of well-trained young men and women in public administration. He led TNH, my TNH, the National Television of Haiti, for twelve years. Imagine for a moment what this « pink » mandate did to the country through its choices! On the brink of the abyss, it is good to always keep a stone in hand, heavy enough to build, sharp enough to break chains. Anyway, Tomorrow, which seemed so close, is further than I thought! « Moun yo kase ponyèt nou, yo pran afè nou, yale ! » Azor! Yves Lafortune
Fort Lauderdale, September 25, 2025