We Keep Improvising. That Is the Problem.

Haiti’s crisis is not about finding the right leader. It is about our refusal to build the structures that make leadership accountable.

With about two weeks remaining before the Transitional Presidential Council’s mandate expires on February 7, political actors have once again waited until the eleventh hour to determine what comes next. This deadline was known from the outset, yet we are improvising, as predicted.

We are attempting to manufacture consensus in days that should have been built patiently and responsibly over the past 21 months.

This is not bad luck, nor is it merely the result of foreign interference, despite how often that explanation is offered. What we are witnessing is a familiar, self-inflicted pattern that implicates not only political actors in Haiti but also Haitians abroad.

Over the past two weeks, meetings have multiplied, and countless proposals have circulated, each more reckless than the last. At the same time, many self-appointed “leaders” have emerged from obscurity, roaming the corridors of Washington and Mar-a-Lago like zombies in search of an elixir to restore their political or financial relevance. They were nowhere to be found over the past two years and have shown little understanding of, or capacity to address, the country’s challenges. Yet they now present themselves as the solution to a crisis they barely understand.

We see them for what they are: snake oil salesmen seeking to profit from the nation’s chaos.

The current disorder is the foreseeable consequence of political and civil society leaders who have refused to set standards, resisted accountability, and, too often, treated transitions as opportunities for personal gain. It is with deep sadness that I watch this familiar pattern repeat itself.

A Culture Without Standards

As I watch the maneuvering around the CPT, I have come to believe that something deeper than poor planning is at work. A political culture has taken root that conflates disorder with liberty and treats accountability as an imposition rather than a foundation. For too many of us, democracy has come to mean the freedom to do as we please rather than the responsibility to build together.

I include myself in this reckoning. None of us who have lived through these transitions can claim to be untouched by this culture of improvisation.

I want to illustrate with a recent experience. I was in Haiti a week ago, flying into Cap-Haïtien. What struck me during arrival and departure was not only the disorder at the airport, but also how unremarkable it felt to us. We moved through the chaos with resignation rather than anger.

It was clear that none of us expected better because no one believed it was possible. In that resignation, we quietly buried the dreams of what Haiti could become.

Our public markets offer another vivid example of this adaptation. They are full of life and ingenuity, yet they operate in ways that make daily life harder for everyone, including vendors, buyers, and passersby. The street vendors spill onto the roadways. The piles of garbage are so high that they block cars and pedestrian traffic. The chaos overwhelms all the senses, dulling the mind and spirit.

The rules exist, but only as fictions we have all agreed to ignore. We learn to survive the disorder rather than challenge it because it is easier.

The same dynamic defines our government. In societies that uphold standards, rules apply broadly, and violations carry consequences. In Haiti, there are rules, but they are routinely bent, selectively enforced, or ignored. We have not rejected rules, order, and basic norms; we have simply lost faith in them because enforcement is arbitrary. When the government is seen as a source of extraction rather than organization, people’s withdrawal is a rational response.

But withdrawal does not weaken bad governance. It entrenches it. When people of principle abandon the public sphere, the vacuum is filled by those who view power as a vehicle for wealth rather than a responsibility.

The Trap of the “Right” Leader

We elevate people without binding them to shared principles. We grant them legitimacy without requiring accountability.

This mindset now defines our politics. With the February 7 deadline looming, we are debating formulas to extend the transition. The proposals range from appointing a judge from the Court of Cassation to assembling a new council to whatever wild idea a creative mind can conjure in a context where anything seems possible. And whatever option is selected, we will find ourselves in the same place at the end of their term, starting over as if it were a brand new challenge.

The Court of Cassation proposal illustrates this clearly. On paper, it sounds reassuring: a return to the Constitution, at least in spirit. However, years of irregular appointments have hollowed out the judiciary, and the last constitutional amendment removed the provision allowing the appointment of a judge during a presidential vacancy. This is why proponents offer a range of alternatives, from the president of the court to the oldest serving justice to a random draw. Each has its own judge, invoking the law while bending it to fit a preferred outcome.

I observed this pattern during the Montana Accord process. The Accord established a clear structure: the KNT (Konsèy Nasyonal Tranzisyon) for guidance, the OKT (Ògann Kontwol Tranzisyon) for oversight, and the BSA (Biwo Swivi Akò a) for coordination. The representatives of Haitians abroad ignored the organizations that had selected them. They never held a public meeting or published a report. The BSA ignored the KNT members. The oversight body, the OKT, was never fully established. In turn, Fritz Jean, Montana’s nominee to the Transitional Presidential Council, eventually ignored the BSA and the Montana Accord entirely

The same pattern played out two years ago, when various Haitian organizations, including groups from abroad, participated in negotiations in Jamaica. They had no mandate to do so. Still, after seizing the initiative, they never reported back to the communities they claimed to represent. I know many of these individuals personally. Some sincerely believed they were acting in Haiti’s interest, but they were mistaken then, just as many of my friends involved in the current carnival are mistaken now. Today, a new set of people are branding themselves as leaders and proposing not only their own solutions but also their own candidates for prime minister. Who sent them? Where did they get their mandate? What was their engagement with Haitians abroad or in Haiti?

Haiti’s crisis remains rooted in our collective refusal to build and demand the structures that hold leadership accountable. Time and again, Haitian elites, both in Haiti and abroad, have chosen improvisation over preparation, visibility over institution-building, and short-term positioning over long-term responsibility.

This is not fate. It is a choice, and we make the wrong one over and over.

February 7 will arrive. Some arrangements will be made, another transition will begin, and Haitians will soon face another crisis, followed by another, because the underlying conditions remain unchanged.

What We Owe Each Other

The past four years, since the assassination of President Moïse, should have made one thing clear: we cannot continue on this course. Four prime ministers and nine members of the Transitional Presidential Council later, Haitians are literally dying under the weight of our dysfunction.

Without shared norms, clear standards, and enforceable obligations, even sincere (though many are not) efforts collapse under the weight of personalities seeking visibility and working through improvisation. We accept them without binding them to principles. They grant themselves authority without accountability.

Change will not come through another oversized, incoherent structure, whether it is a council stitched together like the CPT or a Frankenstein model pulled from the Court of Cassation. In the short term, Haiti may once again be governed by an improvised political monstrosity born of urgency rather than design. However, lasting change will not come from what we assemble at the last minute but from the patient rebuilding of shared expectations and the disciplined organization of our collective effort. It will come from citizens who understand that accountability is not a slogan but a daily practice, applied consistently even when it is uncomfortable. And it will endure only when we are willing to name what is unacceptable and make respect for the rule of law a non-negotiable foundation of our political life.

The question isn’t whether Haiti can be saved, but whether enough of us are willing to stop improvising, stop excusing failure, and commit to the long-term, challenging effort of creating something enduring.

This is the work I am committing myself to. I hope you will join me.