Rise and fall of Haiti's Aristide

It was a textbook moment in Jean-Bertrand Aristide's alternately troubled and glorious path from parish priest to president to, now, a pariah confronting total rejection by his country.

At a 1994 conference on military coups at the Carter Center in Atlanta, a panel of experts asked the then-exiled Haitian president what he'd learned from his own recent overthrow.

Moderator Robert Pastor recalls being astonished at Aristide's honesty: "He said, 'I won the election by too much. . . . I thought I didn't need to compromise and reach out to the opposition, and it ultimately provoked a coup.' "

Pastor's heart was won. "I thought, 'This guy's great. He learned a principal lesson and is willing to say it in public.' "

But, say legions of cynical former members of Aristide's inner circle, the president had drawn a more perverse conclusion: His mistake wasn't trying to squelch opposition; it was not succeeding in doing so.

How a man hailed as a potential Nelson Mandela for his impoverished and oppressed nation of 8 million could fall so far appears to be as much a tale of wishful thinking by desperate Haitians and the international community that backed him, say experts, as it was a tale of the clich� that "absolute power corrupts absolutely."

Aristide was given that rarest of political gifts — a second chance. But, reinstalled in the presidency in October 1994 by a multinational military force, he used his resurrection to perfect an autocratic style, say even those close to him who were interviewed for this story.

Today, having infuriated, humiliated and — some allege, killed — any once-devoted followers who crossed him, Aristide has few political allies left. Even his strongest credential — his election to a second term in 2000 — counts little as rebels gobble up territory and threaten to take the capital.

Languishing in that familiar pre-coup limbo that is a trademark of modern Haitian presidencies, Aristide is a symbol of a political culture that has been bankrupt nearly since it began as a slave revolt 200-plus years ago. But his historical image is just as a symbol of the impoverished Haitian masses he worked with as a parish priest.

In the years immediately following the 1996 ouster of the dictator Jean-Claude "Baby Doc" Duvalier, "Titide" — affectionate Creole for tiny Aristide — worked and preached from the St. Jean Bosco church, not far from Port-au-Prince's teaming Cite Soleil slum.

He wore crisp shirts neatly tucked into dress slacks cinched hard around a tiny waist that suggested not just a vow of poverty but a vow of hunger. His slightly lopsided face was magnified by thick aviator glasses. His overall look: unassuming nerd.