Haiti's new president

MICHEL MARTELLY, a bawdy singer turned politician, swept to victory in Haiti’s presidential election this year as the candidate representing youth and change. “Haiti has been sleeping,” he shouted at his inauguration on May 14th, addressing a crowd of dignitaries including Bill Clinton; various Haitian leaders; and, outside the palace gates, a few thousand ordinary Haitians crammed together under a blistering sun. “Today she will wake up, stand up!” It was only the third peaceful democratic transition in the country’s history, which is replete with coups, interim governments and dictatorships. And it was the first time ever that a democratically elected Haitian president fitted the red-and-blue presidential sash on a successor from the opposition.

Yet the day’s festive spirit—fuelled by expenditures estimated between $2m and $4.5m—was tempered with reminders of how little progress has been made since a devastating earthquake struck Haiti in January 2010. Mr Martelly’s inaugural mass was held at the National Palace, which looks much as it did the day after the quake: a jumble of collapsed roofs, deflated domes, and splayed windows revealing dusty office furniture. Some of the tent cities housing the more than 600,000 Haitians who still have not found new homes after the quake were visible from the palace lawn. And just as Mr Martelly prepared to take the presidential oath at the temporary Parliament building, the power went out. Some Haitians saw the outage as an ill omen, while others accused the opposition-dominated legislature of trickery.

Mr Martelly addressed many of the country’s woes, including both the slow pace of rebuilding and the country’s longstanding poverty, unemployment and poor infrastructure. He said he would emphasise security, court investments, help to expand the middle class and make education free and universal—an oft-repeated campaign promise that won wild cheers. He also pledged to fight to make primary education compulsory.

Many other leaders have made similar vows. But Mr Martelly actually has a reasonable plan to start paying for his education plans: by taxing the Haitian diaspora. He hopes to raise the cost of calls to Haiti from the United States by $0.05 per minute, and levy a $1 flat charge on remittances, which account for $1.8 billion a year—a quarter of Haiti’s GDP. Those levies would raise $86m per year, according to his aides. With taxation also comes representation: last week Parliament amended the constitution to allow the 2m-4m members of the diaspora to vote and hold lower political office. Getting the proposal through the opposition-controlled legislature will be a stiff test for the president, a political novice.

Mr Martelly’s biggest strength is his popularity. Although turnout was low, at just 23% in the run-off, he won by an overwhelming margin. In the days preceding the inauguration, the rubble-choked streets were strung with banners and streamers, and the walls filled with murals of Mr Martelly’s smiling face and shiny pate. One was captioned “Bienvenue au Pouvoir, President Martelly!” And Godspeed, too.