At the Champ de Mars plaza in the heart of Haiti’s capital, law student Seme Rockens sits alone on a bench.
For the past three years, Mr. Rockens, in his mid-20s, has often come here after class. He likes to linger for a cold drink and a chat with his classmates. But today, none of his friends has shown up.
Gunshots echo a few blocks away. Mr. Rockens doesn’t flinch. That sort of thing has become all too familiar as gangs tighten their grip on the capital, Port-au-Prince. Gang violence has killed over 10,000 people in the past two years. A million Haitians have fled their homes.
Why We Wrote This
As gangs take over more and more territory in Haiti, spreading violence, many residents are doubtful that a Kenya-led United Nations security force will be able to reestablish order. It is short on troops, equipment, and experience.
Champ de Mars, once a bustling gathering place, sits near-empty today. Tan-colored military vehicles, belonging to an international security force, drive by from time to time. But that’s not enough for Mr. Rockens. He wants action.
“There are no offensive operations” against the gangs, he says. “The idea of a foreign force to help us is good. But why are they just rolling around? Why are they not in the gang strongholds?”
Not everyone shares his criticism. A few blocks away, a young man says he “feels safer” now that the Multinational Security Support (MSS) mission, led by Kenyan troops, is patrolling the streets. At least he and his friends do not feel left alone, they say.
But there is little the force can do when it is so thinly staffed. Fewer than 600 Kenyan troops had arrived in Haiti by the end of last month, augmented by 260 troops from Central America and the Caribbean; the mission is intended to be about 2,500 strong. Funded by voluntary contributions, it has received only two-thirds of the $600 million that Kenya says it needs each year in order to operate properly.
Complicating matters, the United States, a major contributor to the MSS mission, is currently reassessing the future of its foreign aid under the Trump administration.
“International willingness to help is not real,” Mr. Rockens complains.
In the absence of sufficient help, the gangs have launched what the United Nations calls “a wave of extreme brutality” in recent weeks, capturing previously peaceful districts of the capital, and setting the general hospital on fire.
No road map
Nor is there a clear road map to achieving peace.
The country is starting from a difficult place. Haiti’s last elected president was assassinated in 2021, and gang violence forced the closure of the capital’s airport last year for three months, effectively locking then-Prime Minister Ariel Henry out of the country until he eventually resigned.
A transitional government, named last year, was tasked with reforming the constitution and convening elections before the end of 2025. But differences within the new ruling council – and the rising gang violence that is besetting the country – make free, fair, and safe elections before the end of this year highly unlikely, observers say.
In the meantime, some citizens, angry at the insecurity they feel, are taking matters into their own hands. Armed with machetes and firearms, they have formed vigilante groups to protect their neighborhoods, in some cases resorting to extrajudicial killings.
The U.N. Security Council took more than 18 months to approve Haiti’s request for international security assistance and set up the MSS. Working alongside the Haitian National Police, the force initially enjoyed some success.
Together they reclaimed key buildings, such as the airport and the general hospital, from gang control. By September 2024, most gangs had retreated to their neighborhood strongholds.
But then, just as quickly as the gains had been made, they were lost. Gangs launched coordinated assaults on selected targets that the authorities could not repel. After gunmen opened fire on a passenger plane heading for Port-au-Prince last November, wounding a flight attendant, the government closed the international airport; commercial flights remain suspended.
The surge of violence sent 41,000 people running for their lives as they fled their homes, the biggest wave of displaced people for two years, according to the U.N. International Organization for Migration.
The general hospital remains closed.
Not enough helicopters, too many child soldiers
Over 100 gangs operate in Haiti, mainly in and around the capital, where they control about 85% of the city, according to the U.N. The most notorious group is an alliance of eight gangs known as Viv Ensanm (“Live Together” in Haitian Creole), led by Jimmy “Barbecue” Chérizier, a former police officer.
Despite the MSS deployment last June, gangs have extended their control to several strategic areas in the capital recently, among them the area near the Champ de Mars. They have also seized four towns abutting Port-au-Prince.
“Police need helicopters to protect us,” says Jean Massillon, mayor of Kenscoff, a community at the southeastern gateway to Port-au-Prince. “Kenscoff is in the mountains. There are no roads where gangs attack from. Police have to move on foot or by air,” he explains.
But the international force has only three helicopters, provided by El Salvador.
As they have expanded their territory, the gangs have increased their exploitation of children by 70% over the past year, according to UNICEF. They are armed with automatic weapons – largely smuggled from the United States – and move unhindered through the narrow, winding alleys of their neighborhood strongholds in Port-au-Prince, which national and multinational police forces are often unable to navigate in their bulky armored vehicles.
Shadows of the past
Some local leaders, including Mr. Massillon, would like to see the United Nations turn the support mission into a full-fledged U.N. peacekeeping force. That would guarantee funds from all U.N. member states, and would allow the direct deployment of specialized U.N. forces, instead of relying on the goodwill of individual countries, like Kenya.
The president of Haiti’s Transitional Presidential Council, Leslie Voltaire, officially filed such a request to the U.N. last October. But many Haitians remain wary, recalling a 15-year U.N. peacekeeping mission that ended in 2019 tainted by scandals, including sexual exploitation and the introduction of cholera.
Nor did the $10 billion dollar intervention leave much of lasting political benefit.
“Less than three years after the [U.N.] blue helmets left in 2019, we were back in a state of insecurity,” says Rosy Auguste Ducéna, a lawyer and program director at Haiti’s National Human Rights Defense Network.
Since 2023, U.N. Secretary-General António Guterres has repeatedly said that Haiti’s lack of infrastructure and rule of law makes it “not conducive to peacekeeping.” On Feb. 20, however, he announced that he would ask the Security Council to assume funding for the current security mission.
Ms. Ducéna acknowledges that Haiti cannot resolve the security crisis on its own, but she insists the solution should come from within the country. It is up to the Haitian authorities to address the root causes, she says – corruption being one of the most significant.
“First, we must rebuild the judicial system, which is in shambles. Then, prosecute those in power who are supporting the gangs,” says Ms. Ducéna.
“Without that, no intervention will succeed.”
