EDITORIAL: Kudos

To most of them, my response is: "Good for you." But to some, who were polite and respectful toward me, and justly refrained from insinuating that I am a racist (President Rodin, you're not included), I would like to offer the following rejoinder. Having been accused of abysmal ignorance on the subject of Haiti, I did some reading and drew some old and new conclusions. First, I confirmed that voodoo really is primitive, just as I claimed. However, my Scooby Doo-inspired notion of dolls-and-pins, I learned, has nothing to do with the Haitian version of voodoo. I stand corrected. As I remarked, practitioners of Haitian voodoo do make sacrifices, but it turns out that it's to the saints they make them and not to the gods. They do it right here in Philadelphia, too, according to a recent Philadelphia Inquirer report. So it seems -- contrary to my quip -- that there is a Haitian section of town after all. (In fairness, I should mention here that I don't think killing chickens is any more ridiculous than munching wafers. I am an equal opportunity disrespecter of mysticism.) I don't mind confessing that the slur about the only Haitians in America being exiled dictators and cab drivers was a bit of a cheap shot. There are, of course, many honest, productive Haitians in the United States (including the cab drivers) and as with all honest, productive citizens, I applaud them. On the subject of people as well, many of my detractors were offended because I harassed the Haitian populace rather than more directly assaulting their nation and the U.S. policy toward it. I think they have some right to be offended, and I regret both my lack of intellectualism and my linguistic imprecision. I'll be more careful next time, you have my word. Many complaints have been made about my statement that "some people 'round the earth are just going to have to die and the Haitians may sometimes be among them." Let me make myself clear. To paraphrase Forrest Gump, death happens. It's a fact of life. But you have to recognize the difference between dying a normal death and being murdered in an authoritarian state. Conversely to what I implied, you should feel sympathy for the Haitians; they are being slaughtered in an immoral and corrupt political system, and are the victims of egregious rights violations. But you should not feel guilt over their situation because you personally have nothing to do with it, and since you don't know them (unless you have ties to Haiti), you have no legitimate reason -- or ability, really -- to care very much about them. What great camaraderie can you feel with someone you've never met, and how deeply can you care if he or she lives or dies? I didn't make this distinction clear in my article, however, and I take responsibility for that. Also, the Haitians are not "beyond help" as I declared. I don't actually believe in that kind of determinism. Yet I don't believe either that invading them will solve their problems. What the Haitians need are individual rights and a free market. They don't need our army, they need our trade. The source of my angry tone is my exceptionally deep-seated abhorrence to the idea that I have a duty to help anyone, anywhere, who is in anyway less fortunate than I am. Nothing evokes more passion in me than when someone says -- about the Haitians, the homeless, or the otherwise helpless -- How dare you enjoy yourself while these people suffer! How dare you live while others die! Unfortunately, that fury shows through in ways that affect the integrity of my writing. In the end, it was this harsh tone and invective humor that were the primary causes of grief, and essentially I stand by both. For one, I thought the article was funny and so did a lot of other people. Although, I wish I had better separated the comedic from the tragic and the serious. And two, if I were to repeat this assignment, it is the target of my harshness that I would change and not my harshness as such. I would have assailed just as indignantly, only less circuitously, the Haitian government, American interventionism, and the ugly premises on which both rest. I conclude as follows: I apologize to no one for my article. I am a beginning writer and I made mistakes which I have herein attempted to remedy. And until I can write Ayn Rand or P.J. O'Rourke, I'll probably do it again. Jeremy Hildreth is a junior finance and real estate major from Los Angeles, Calif. He is a staff writer for The Red and Blue.