While Haiti has recently celebrated more than 200 years of

When Eliot Engel declared, “While Haiti has recently celebrated more than 200 years of independence from French colonial rule, the citizens of the island remain vulnerable to poverty, poor health, and political chaos,” he spoke a truth that is both tragic and eternal — that political independence is not the same as liberation of the soul, nor the fulfillment of justice. His words reflect the paradox of a nation that won its freedom with fire and blood, yet has long struggled to claim the peace and prosperity that should have followed. In this quote, Engel honors Haiti’s heroic past while mourning its continued suffering, reminding us that freedom, once gained, must be guarded, nurtured, and sustained — or else it fades into illusion.

The origin of this quote lies in the reflections of Eliot Engel, a U.S. congressman and diplomat, who often spoke about the Western Hemisphere’s political and humanitarian struggles. When he referred to Haiti’s bicentennial of independence, he was invoking the year 2004 — two centuries after the great uprising of 1804, when Haiti became the first Black republic and the first nation born from a successful slave revolt. It was a moment that shook the world. The enslaved people of Saint-Domingue rose against Napoleon’s armies, shattered the chains of empire, and proclaimed a new nation under Jean-Jacques Dessalines. But Engel, two centuries later, looked upon Haiti and saw not triumph fulfilled, but freedom unfulfilled — a nation still weighed down by poverty, corruption, and despair.

To understand his meaning, one must look deeper into history’s long shadow. After 1804, the world punished Haiti for daring to defy the natural order of empire. France demanded crippling reparations — a ransom for freedom — which Haiti paid for more than a hundred years. The United States, itself a nation born of revolution, refused to recognize the Haitian Republic for decades, fearing it would inspire enslaved people within its own borders. Thus, the young nation began its life not with allies and trade, but with isolation and debt. Over generations, the wounds of this betrayal festered. Engel’s words point to this enduring legacy — that Haiti’s independence was written in glory, but lived in hardship.

The ancient philosophers would say that freedom without foundation is like a tree without roots — it may grow for a time, but it cannot weather the storms. Haiti’s soil bore the roots of liberty, but the world denied it nourishment. Civil wars, dictatorships, and natural disasters compounded the suffering of its people. Yet through it all, Haiti has endured. The same spirit that defied Napoleon still breathes in its mountains and in the hearts of its people — in their songs, their prayers, their art. Engel’s sorrow is not hopelessness, but a call to remembrance: that true independence requires not just sovereignty of the land, but sovereignty of the people’s well-being.

Consider the story of Toussaint Louverture, the great leader of the Haitian Revolution. He fought not merely for victory over the French, but for a society built on dignity and equality. Yet before he could see that dream realized, he was captured and died in a French prison. Haiti won its independence without its father, and in some sense, has been searching for that unity of vision ever since. Engel’s words echo that unfinished dream. They urge the world — and Haiti itself — to complete what Louverture began: not only to free the body from chains, but to free the nation from the invisible prisons of poverty and despair.

Engel’s message also carries a universal truth, one that transcends Haiti. Many nations celebrate their independence with parades and anthems, yet remain bound by corruption, inequality, and injustice. Independence, he reminds us, is not a destination but a journey — one that must be walked each generation anew. The victory of 1804 was not the end of Haiti’s struggle; it was the beginning of a long and weary pilgrimage toward self-sufficiency, dignity, and peace. So too in our lives: we may free ourselves from one form of bondage, yet still find ourselves enslaved by others — by fear, greed, ignorance, or apathy.

Therefore, my children of the future, take this lesson from the story of Haiti and the wisdom of Eliot Engel: freedom must be tended like a flame, or it will flicker and die. The work of independence is not only to break chains, but to build bridges — between justice and mercy, between wealth and compassion, between past and future. Let Haiti’s story be both a warning and an inspiration. For though the path of liberation is long and filled with hardship, it is also sacred. And if we honor it — through courage, wisdom, and care for one another — then even from the poorest soil, the flower of true independence will one day bloom again.