In addition, up to $500 million a year comes in from various NGO's. Some of them actually do some good. Most, however, are just bureaucracies, sending their policy works to drive around in new Land Rovers, survey the poverty, and write largely worthless reports that nobody reads. Half of the relatively few people who get regular paychecks draw them from the government; most of them are laughingly referred to as "zombie workers" for obvious reasons. Fortunately, that no longer includes the army, because the army has been abolished, in recognition of the fact that, typical of Third World militaries, it's sole purpose was to intimidate potential dissidents. On the bright side, at least there's no direct aid to the Haitian government, due to the rare insight that it would mostly just get siphoned off to some people's foreign bank accounts.

The whole country is on welfare. It's like a rural Washington, D.C.

A CHARITY

Of course, despising welfare, I'm also somewhat disinclined towards organized charities, as well. They tend to quickly become top heavy vehicles for the politically correct to righteously play big shot with other people's money. At some point soon, I'll editorialize about the corruption charity often brings, and why those of you with plans along those lines may want to rethink it. So I was only marginally enthusiastic about the Foundation for Mercy and Sharing, founded by my friend Susie Krabacher, whom I accompanied on this trip. Susie is a legend in Haiti; everyone knows her. An ex-Playboy centerfold and cover girl, she's done well in the world, and truly wants to help other people in thanksgiving; she picked the right place. I've seen poverty, I promise you, but what goes on in Haiti is a whole other level—and an excellent barometer of how far this place has fallen. Poor people regularly abandon children, already on death’s door, they can't care for. What happens is that they're basically stacked up like fire wood in an unrefridgerated morgue, before they die, and sometimes aren't buried for months after they die, because there's no money to dispose of them. It literally defies the imagination. In any event, Susie has set up, on a shoestring, an orphanage for about 1,600 kids, and it is impossible to find fault with the small organization. And I say that as someone who believes most charities aren't worth the powder it would take to blow them to hell.  If you're so inclined, you can contact her at haitikids@aol.com, or 970-925-1492.

PROPERTY

Most Third World countries prohibit foreigners from owning islands, border lands and coastlines—ostensibly for "security" reasons, probably stemming from a fear of invasion, or guerrillas. Needless to say, Haiti has laws of this type. In theory, the beachfront owned by the State is available for acquisition by citizens; it can be leased for five years for a nominal amount (about US$25 per hectare per year) and then, if development plans are approved, the legislature can grant title. I met several Haitians who've apparently done this. But, although it's simple in theory, it's exceedingly hard in practice. Hernan de Soto, the Peruvian student of why Third World countries tend to remain basket cases, points out that Haiti is especially perverse in this regard: He documents how it takes an average of 19 years and 176 bureaucratic procedures to legalize the purchase of private land in Haiti—forget about getting it from the State.

And, unfortunately, the State probably (who really knows, since their records are a shambles) owns over half the land area of the country. That amounts to totally dead capital in a country that can't afford to waste a cent. In fact, it's worse than that. You can tell exactly where the border between the Dominican Republic and Haiti lies by flying over it at 10,000 feet; the Haitian side has been totally deforested. People rarely do anything so stupid with their own property. But when it comes to State property, which is to say unowned property, anything goes. It's the Tragedy of the Commons come to the Caribbean.

Still, if I can get a few thousand idyllic, isolated acres for peanuts, I think there's some real opportunity. My feelers are out. But that's Plan B. My real attention is on Plan A.

PLAN A

As totally disastrous as the country is, it makes the days when the Duvalliers ran it as something of a private plantation look like a halcyon time. Some people say the Haitians are capable of no better and are best off under some type of (hopefully) benign dictatorship. That's complete rubbish.

The reason the country, the first in the Western Hemisphere after the US to go independent, is such a basket case is simply a lack of property rights, and an efficient legal system to enforce them.

Aristide realizes he has a tiger by the tail, that this poor and overpopulated country is a potential time bomb. But he's at once too ignorant, too weak and now too corrupt to do anything about it. A pity, because he's both intelligent and charismatic enough to transform the place. Naively, he appears to think that making plans to  sell the airport, promoting the artistic talents of  Haitians and getting more foreign aid will solve the problem.

I spent some time with one of his cabinet and closest advisors, presenting a radical plan for change. This is a country with terminal cancer; Band-Aids and gradualism are nonstarters. Out of 200 countries in the world, only about 25 are capital exporters. And out of the 175 importers Haiti is about the last on any capitalist's list.

What I proposed is a plan, which I've presented to autocrats running a half dozen similar basket cases, which would do three things:

1) Make him (and his cronies) legitimately wealthy. Even though he was once a priest ministering to the bottom of society, he's found that power corrupts. And money is the main reason people get into and around government anyway.

2) Put him on the front cover of every news magazine in the world in a favorable light for the next decade. No one likes being a pariah, or a laughing stock in charge of a country that's viewed as an embarrassment.

3) Make the country as wealthy in a generation as Hong Kong, Singapore, or Taiwan are today. After all, 50 years ago those places were as poor as Haiti. But today the world is much richer, and technology far more advanced.

This promise got his attention. "Tell me more," he said, which is the usual reaction. My plan basically contemplates the 100% elimination of all taxes and regulations; these things serve absolutely no useful purpose in any Third World country except to create sinecures for parasites. That part is simple, and obvious. The twist is to take all government assets and put them initially into one large corporation to facilitate distributing 70% of the shares, pro rata, to every citizen now living, 15% in trust for the next generation to be born over the next 21 years, 10% for the folks who allow it to happen, and 5% to be sold in the world's capital markets. The money raised thereby would mainly be used to promote the fact the country is open for business in a way no country in the world has ever been. And the people, not the government, would be the direct beneficiaries.

There's much, much more to it. But, in essence, it's possible to transform a hellhole like Haiti into the kind of place you'd want to move to, no matter where you now live, regardless of other considerations. If there were ever a true free market country, the place would be so overrun with rich people that workers now making $1 a day would be in demand at $15 an hour (what I have to pay my maid in Aspen—in cash, thank you). Could it happen? Well, in case you're wondering what my other hobby, besides polo, is, it's pitching this plan to Third World governments. They've bought every cockamamie scheme that's come down the pike since the days of Karl Marx. Why shouldn't they go for something that actually makes sense? Well, I can think of lots of reasons, but that doesn't mean I'm about to quit.

If you have a connection to a troubled Head of State, I'd like to hear from you.

There are those who may find Doug's ideas intrusive. There are many who view economics as form of repression rather than as a tool to liberation.  Usually those who hold such views have a refrigerator, television, a VCR, computer, car and other amenities that make their life tolerable.  They like to travel around the world and see downcast societies and view them as 'quaint' and 'picturesque.'  You can be assured that the impoverished inhabitants of Haiti would welcome the chance to own a refrigerator or to make a wage on which they could send their children to college.

Haiti is known for it's unique art and it's early history of liberation. Haiti's liberation began in 1794, shortly after the French Revolution of 1789. Under the leadership of Toussaint L'Overture, known to Haitians as "The Precursor", slaves were set free.  True independence came in 1804 - making Haiti the first independent Black "republic" to be established in the Americans.

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