Although Kreyolicious is, to my knowledge, the only writer who has touched upon the history of the Chinese in Haiti, references to this understudied Chinese Caribbean population exist in primary source material. Unfortunately, a reliable estimate for the total number of Chinese who came to Haiti from the late 19th century until the 1930s cannot be found, but it very well could have been hundreds or more. According to the oral histories conducted by Kreyolicious and the Museum of Chinese in America, the numbers of Chinese coming to Haiti after the 1930s appear minuscule, and many of their descendants left during the Duvalier dictatorship. Since it appears most of these Chinese migrant entrepreneurs married local women and their numbers were small enough, they have totally assimilated. Quite a few "Sino-Haitians" have played a role in the arts, particularly the Wahs and the Fungcaps.
However, it seems quite clear that any Chinese persons in Haiti before the late 19th century were very few. Despite the significant numbers of Chinese laborers next door in Cuba, some of whom also ended up in the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico (not to mention the Chinese presence in Jamaica, which also began in the middle of the 19th century), Haiti was not able to attract Asian indentured laborers or entrepreneurs at this time. It was not due to a lack of interest, since some Haitians, such as A. Monfleury, saw a need for Asian laborers on plantations at least as far back as 1860. Frustrated and unable to launch long-term successful sugar plantations with the requisite compliant and cheap labor, Haiti consequently would have very few if any Asians. However, it is possible that some Chinese in nearby Cuba, Jamaica, or the Dominican Republic did end up in Haiti but are not mentioned in any local papers, especially if they were in the Dominican-Haitian borderlands during the War or Restoration. Imagine an indentured worker in Cuba seeking an escape, perhaps they may have heard of Haiti through Afro-Cubans?
If anything, the small numbers of Chinese in the neighboring Dominican Republic during this time indicate tiny or non-existent numbers of Chinese in Haiti. According to Graciela Azcárate, there was an increase in the Chinese population in the Cibao, Santo Domingo, and other regions, particularly after 1870. They worked on railroad construction and local industries in a migration promoted by Gregorio Riva. But by 1920, there were only 255 Chinese across the entire country, if the numbers are reliable. Most of these were men, often running laundry services, restaurants, and businesses in towns. As one would likely suspect, the numbers of Chinese in the DR increased during and after the US Occupation, but a 1950 census reported only 455. Azcárate's article does allude to migratory flows from the continental US and connections with Jamaica, which leads one to wonder if any of the Chinese families in Haiti have Dominican relatives. For instance, a Fong Sang became a naturalized Haitian citizen in 1951, and very well could be related to the Sangs in the Dominican Republic. Such a thing would not be surprising, as this pattern can be found among the Syrian and Lebanese families in the region.
Since it has been reasonably established that the Chinese communities in the Dominican Republic during this time were small in number, it is probable that Haiti received even fewer. In 1881, a Polish engineer mentioned an attempt by the owner of the Drouillard habitation in the Cul-de-Sac Plain to use Chinese laborers on the estate, even building housing for them. Grekowicz made it quite clear in his correspondence that this attempt to use Chinese labor, comprised of 5 or 6 unnamed families, failed as the Chinese were persecuted by locals and eventually chased off the property, later fleeing to Port-au-Prince. These unfortunate souls may have been the first Chinese in the nation. Grekowicz did not identify the proprietor of Drouillard, but Candelon Rigaud indicates it fell under the ownership of Achille Barthe and his descendants, perhaps already in the family hands by 1881. There may have also been a a few other Chinese who came in the 19th century via the British West Indies or French colonies in the region.
The first two decades of the 20th century appear to be the better date ranges for elucidating the origins of Chinese families in Haiti. Still, their numbers could not have been great. By the 1910s, there were at least a handful, particularly the Fong-Ging brothers and other Chinese restaurateurs, most likely all from Canton. According to Essud Fungcap, the Chinese were attracted to Haiti during the 1910s and 1920s because there was an increase in the demand for their services and restaurants during the US Occupation. This would explain why Juan Fong, Hoo Hing, the Wawas, Fungcaps and others could find a market for their services and prosper. Further, it indicates that the Chinese in Haiti must have been overwhelmingly urban, where they sold their services to US Marines, foreign residents, and the Haitian middle-classes and elites in Port-au-Prince, Cap-Haitien, Aux Cayes and, perhaps, other towns. Additional evidence from US Congressional documents reveal the presence of Chinese nationals in Haiti and the Dominican Republic in 1918, specifically authorizing US agents to issue passports for Chinese to return to their homeland via the US. There is no indication of their total numbers on the island, but clearly they were establishing shops and businesses in both countries in the 1910s. Corvington, whose well-known series on the history of Port-au-Prince, is an excellent resource for understanding the increase in the numbers of restaurants, diversions, and urban amenities in Port-au-Prince during the Occupation, in which these migrants played a role.
A mention in Haiti Sun of the local Chinese colony in the Port-au-Prince area. Note how it indicates only 20 Chinese were in Port-au-Prince ca. 1958. An October 1957 issue also mentions 15 members of Haiti's Chinese colony venturing to meet a Chinese delegation, although some had traveled from Aux Cayes and Cap-Haitien. For 1960, Haiti Sun also put the total number at 60, versus 20,000 for Cuba. Alternatively, Chinese sources put the number for the 1950s and 1963 at slightly over 200 Chinese nationals in the Caribbean republic.
However, it seems quite clear that any Chinese persons in Haiti before the late 19th century were very few. Despite the significant numbers of Chinese laborers next door in Cuba, some of whom also ended up in the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico (not to mention the Chinese presence in Jamaica, which also began in the middle of the 19th century), Haiti was not able to attract Asian indentured laborers or entrepreneurs at this time. It was not due to a lack of interest, since some Haitians, such as A. Monfleury, saw a need for Asian laborers on plantations at least as far back as 1860. Frustrated and unable to launch long-term successful sugar plantations with the requisite compliant and cheap labor, Haiti consequently would have very few if any Asians. However, it is possible that some Chinese in nearby Cuba, Jamaica, or the Dominican Republic did end up in Haiti but are not mentioned in any local papers, especially if they were in the Dominican-Haitian borderlands during the War or Restoration. Imagine an indentured worker in Cuba seeking an escape, perhaps they may have heard of Haiti through Afro-Cubans?
A short article from 1955 about the honesty of the staff at the Wawa laundry service from Haiti Sun.
If anything, the small numbers of Chinese in the neighboring Dominican Republic during this time indicate tiny or non-existent numbers of Chinese in Haiti. According to Graciela Azcárate, there was an increase in the Chinese population in the Cibao, Santo Domingo, and other regions, particularly after 1870. They worked on railroad construction and local industries in a migration promoted by Gregorio Riva. But by 1920, there were only 255 Chinese across the entire country, if the numbers are reliable. Most of these were men, often running laundry services, restaurants, and businesses in towns. As one would likely suspect, the numbers of Chinese in the DR increased during and after the US Occupation, but a 1950 census reported only 455. Azcárate's article does allude to migratory flows from the continental US and connections with Jamaica, which leads one to wonder if any of the Chinese families in Haiti have Dominican relatives. For instance, a Fong Sang became a naturalized Haitian citizen in 1951, and very well could be related to the Sangs in the Dominican Republic. Such a thing would not be surprising, as this pattern can be found among the Syrian and Lebanese families in the region.
Notice of the death of a Chinese restauranteur, Lim Wah, in Cap-Haitien (Le Nouvelliste)
Since it has been reasonably established that the Chinese communities in the Dominican Republic during this time were small in number, it is probable that Haiti received even fewer. In 1881, a Polish engineer mentioned an attempt by the owner of the Drouillard habitation in the Cul-de-Sac Plain to use Chinese laborers on the estate, even building housing for them. Grekowicz made it quite clear in his correspondence that this attempt to use Chinese labor, comprised of 5 or 6 unnamed families, failed as the Chinese were persecuted by locals and eventually chased off the property, later fleeing to Port-au-Prince. These unfortunate souls may have been the first Chinese in the nation. Grekowicz did not identify the proprietor of Drouillard, but Candelon Rigaud indicates it fell under the ownership of Achille Barthe and his descendants, perhaps already in the family hands by 1881. There may have also been a a few other Chinese who came in the 19th century via the British West Indies or French colonies in the region.
Le Matin article about a fire on Grand'Rue that mentions Chinese restaurants in the quarter in 1930.
The first two decades of the 20th century appear to be the better date ranges for elucidating the origins of Chinese families in Haiti. Still, their numbers could not have been great. By the 1910s, there were at least a handful, particularly the Fong-Ging brothers and other Chinese restaurateurs, most likely all from Canton. According to Essud Fungcap, the Chinese were attracted to Haiti during the 1910s and 1920s because there was an increase in the demand for their services and restaurants during the US Occupation. This would explain why Juan Fong, Hoo Hing, the Wawas, Fungcaps and others could find a market for their services and prosper. Further, it indicates that the Chinese in Haiti must have been overwhelmingly urban, where they sold their services to US Marines, foreign residents, and the Haitian middle-classes and elites in Port-au-Prince, Cap-Haitien, Aux Cayes and, perhaps, other towns. Additional evidence from US Congressional documents reveal the presence of Chinese nationals in Haiti and the Dominican Republic in 1918, specifically authorizing US agents to issue passports for Chinese to return to their homeland via the US. There is no indication of their total numbers on the island, but clearly they were establishing shops and businesses in both countries in the 1910s. Corvington, whose well-known series on the history of Port-au-Prince, is an excellent resource for understanding the increase in the numbers of restaurants, diversions, and urban amenities in Port-au-Prince during the Occupation, in which these migrants played a role.
1919 advertisement for a Chinese restaurant (Le Matin)
By the 1930s, there does appear to have been animosity and disdain for the small but seemingly growing Chinese community. Corvington referenced a November 1932 expulsion of more than 200 Chinese, which could not have been merely a whimsical move on the part of President Vincent. Prior to this expulsion, the newspaper Le Matin printed an anti-Chinese article. The piece rejects the Chinese on racial grounds, and refers to them as a threat to the Haitian-owned laundry, restaurant, and bakery establishments. Presumably, if the number of Chinese spiked from the small numbers in the 1910s to hundreds by 1931, their presence must have been a cause for alarm, and raised fears of a foreign group threatening Haitian petit-bourgeois businesses. This likely brought back to the minds of older citizens the Syriens and the thorny question of assimilation and competition with newcomers. Indeed, a law banning Syrian immigrants in 1894 also included the Chinese, in spite of their absence in the press, thus indicating some degree of overlap between anti-Syrian sentiment and legislation with other "Asiatic" peoples. Oral history accounts appear to back this up, with Wah referring to the government blocking the entry of Chinese in Haiti at some point in the 1930s. Unfortunately, Wah was not precise with the dates, but it does seem that by that decade, attitudes among some quarters of the political class were more hostile to the idea of a growing Asian population in Haiti. The context of the US Occupation, nationalist sentiments, global economic depression and noirisme may have fueled it.
Le Matin sale advertisement that mentions a Chinese laundry from 1929.
The oral histories provide priceless testimony to connections with other Chinese communities in the US and the region. Edouard Wah's father, for example, had family in Philadelphia and Cuba. So, perhaps the total number of Chinese operating in Haiti in the period 1910-1960 fluctuated as members of the colony shifted back and forth from Cuba, Jamaica, Haiti, the Dominican Republic, and the United States. Although there does not appear to have been a 'Chinatown' in Port-au-Prince, many Chinese businesses were on or near Grand'Rue, in the city center. Many lived above their stores, and visited each other after closing hours. George Simpson's 1941 analysis of Haitian social structure claims few resident Chinese married local women, but it very well could be many enjoyed informal unions with black or mulatto women. Members of the Port-au-Prince community also participated in some Chinese celebrations or events organized by the Chinese (Taiwanese) embassy. The second generation, likely predominantly mixed-race, integrated into the Haitian middle-class or respectable society, and left a legacy in the arts. Bernard Wah, for instance, was a major figure in the development of Haitian art. Yves Fungcap and Marcel Wah were artists. Essud Fungcap was a musician in compas bands. Perhaps due to their small numbers and partly Haitian parentage, these "Sino-Haitians" may have integrated rather easily.
Part of a 1931 article critical of Chinese immigration. The author is listed as "L'Homme de la Rue" and makes a racialist argument against immigration from China.
Since 1957, Haiti experienced the rocky road of economic decline and political terror. Due to Duvalierist repression and violence, many left for greener pastures over the course of the Duvalier dicatorship. Economic contraction and political violence may have deterred further growth of the Chinese colony. Interviews with Fungcap and Wah also refer to the limited opportunities for expanding businesses, so families may have as restaurants, laundry services, or shops could not support growing families. Some, like Moise Wawa, may have stayed in business for quite some time after the 1960s, but one can surmise their children moved into professions or sought their fortune in the US and Canada. Perhaps, unlike elements of the Levantine community or Haitian elite, they were unable to transfer into sweatshops or garment assembly factories. Kreyolicious's interviews with descendants of the Sino-Haitian community appear to support this conclusion, too. Yet, with a Taiwanese embassy (headed by Liu Yu-Wan) and visits from a Hong Kong mission in 1958, there must have been some interest in investment or trade with Haiti during the Duvalier years.
Although perhaps best known for contributions to the arts, the Chinese of the Black Republic connect Haiti to larger processes in the Caribbean. Unfortunately, it remains difficult to access information about how Chinese-owned businesses operated and co-existed with Haitian competitors (Le Nouvelliste covered a work stoppage at the Wawa laundry in 1947, involving the Bureau de Travail), but their story is an interesting example of US imperialism and burgeoning global markets shaping Caribbean development through middleman minorities. In 1934, Chinese laundries in Port-au-Prince also came under attack in Le Nouvelliste for dominating the market, as well as criticizing the salaries and treatment of workers. Talk of bringing in new laws on labor and work hours indicate some degree of exploitation and unhappiness among Haitians who may have worked for Chinese laundries at the time. Despite much that remains unknown, it is a history intimately tied to the US Occupation and urbanization. Given their small numbers, it may be unlikely they had tongs or any kind newspaper, but they may have been connected to Chinese Benevolent Associations in the Dominican Republic or subscribed to Chinese-language papers from other parts of the Caribbean. Much labor remains to be done to understand the history of the Chinese in Haiti.
1929 advertisement for a Chinese laundry in the city center of Port-au-Prince.
Although perhaps best known for contributions to the arts, the Chinese of the Black Republic connect Haiti to larger processes in the Caribbean. Unfortunately, it remains difficult to access information about how Chinese-owned businesses operated and co-existed with Haitian competitors (Le Nouvelliste covered a work stoppage at the Wawa laundry in 1947, involving the Bureau de Travail), but their story is an interesting example of US imperialism and burgeoning global markets shaping Caribbean development through middleman minorities. In 1934, Chinese laundries in Port-au-Prince also came under attack in Le Nouvelliste for dominating the market, as well as criticizing the salaries and treatment of workers. Talk of bringing in new laws on labor and work hours indicate some degree of exploitation and unhappiness among Haitians who may have worked for Chinese laundries at the time. Despite much that remains unknown, it is a history intimately tied to the US Occupation and urbanization. Given their small numbers, it may be unlikely they had tongs or any kind newspaper, but they may have been connected to Chinese Benevolent Associations in the Dominican Republic or subscribed to Chinese-language papers from other parts of the Caribbean. Much labor remains to be done to understand the history of the Chinese in Haiti.
1916 advertisement for a Sam Ching laundry in Port-au-Prince.
Well written and informative. I wasn't distinctly aware of a Chinese presence in Haiti back in 1960 but it sure is enlightening to read about.
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