Gang members fire at police in Port-au-Prince this past April, a few weeks after the uprising against prime minister Ariel Henry. Then, as now, anti-government groups controlled most of the Haitian capital.Goran Tomasevic/The Globe and Mail
Goran Tomasevic has photographed conflict and crisis around the world for 30 years, from the bitter urban warfare of Syria to the desert artillery battles of Libya to the gunfights of Taliban soldiers to the death marches of South American migrants.
But his work in the past year covering the gang takeover of Haiti has been perhaps the hardest assignment of his life, he says. Civil authority has collapsed across much of the country and especially in the capital, allowing armed groups to rape, steal and murder with impunity.
The vestiges of government power often do more to endanger life than preserve it. Officers of the notoriously corrupt national police fired warning shots at Mr. Tomasevic last week despite his flak jacket labelled PRESS as he attempted to capture a shootout with gangs in Port-au-Prince. (Earlier this week, two reporters and a police officer were killed after suspected gang members attacked as journalists were covering the reopening of Port-au-Prince’s biggest public hospital.)
'Youth are waking up,' reads this sign behind a group of boys cutting each other's hair outside a schoolyard.
Massive personal risk hasn’t stopped him from travelling to Haiti three times since March, spending a total of 61 days there, determined to train his lens on the horror and humanity of a war zone that has been largely ignored by the global community.
Just entering the country has been a high-stakes adventure. With the international airport of Port-au-Prince closed because gang members had started shooting at commercial planes, Mr. Tomasevic had to take the long way. First he flew into the Dominican Republic and crossed the border with Haiti on foot. Then he rode a leaky boat to within driving distance of the capital. From there he took two motorbikes – one for him, one for his cameras – through the mountains and into the city.
On a more recent trip, he cut through all that muddle and just flew on a helicopter into the capital.
These elaborate travel arrangements were made possible, like much of his work in Haiti, by the skilled local journalist Yvon Vilius, who has worked with foreign media for 20 years. He has braved the same dangers as Mr. Tomasevic, with the added risk of having to stay in the country after the photos are filed.
Haitian journalist Yvon Vilius, at middle in a press vest, works with Mr. Tomasevic this spring at a shootout near the National Palace, when gangs fought to stop the swearing-in of a new presidential council.Goran Tomasevic/The Globe and Mail
The challenges of working in Haiti go beyond the physical hazards. There is also the emotional whiplash of photographing children, in particular, as they are victimized by violence and sometimes perpetrate it. The kids firing pistols at police and looting stores had a sweetness and innocence about them, Mr. Tomasevic said. Between barrages of bullets, some boys offered him water or helped him find shelter.
But even the nine- and 10-year-old gang members were clearly becoming accustomed to the brutality of their new lives. “They fired quickly, without hesitation,” Mr. Tomasevic said.
Nothing is easy in Haiti today. Even the bus trip out of the capital to the relative safety of Cap-Haïtien on the country’s north coast was interrupted by a landslide – just one more obstacle on Mr. Tomasevic’s journey to Haiti and back.