Killer. Robin Hood. Cannibal gang leader. Revolutionary. These are some of the conflicting labels that have been attached to Jimmy “Barbecue” Chérizier, the former police officer-turned-gang chieftain at the center of Haiti's spiraling violence. Since the July 2021 assassination of President Jovenel Moïse plunged the country into anarchy, mainstream news outlets and social media have portrayed Chérizier as a kind of arch-villain. He and his supporters counter he's being targeted for daring to upend an entrenched political order in which armed gangs have done the bidding of moneyed elites.
Haiti on Firea 27-minute film from Blackbeard Films, XTR, and Rolling Stone Films, attempts to cut through the hype surrounding Chérizier and offer a sober look at the man behind the myths. The film is available to stream today on rollingstone.com and the Documentary+ app.
When I first met Chérizier four years ago, he was virtually unknown outside Haiti. He had just formed the largest gang alliance in the country, the G9 Family and Allies, and was dogged by allegations from the United Nations and United States that he'd orchestrated a series of massacres in Port-au-Prince's slums. Accompanied by a crew of masked gunmen, he led us on a motorbike tour where the killings took place to flex the extent of his power. In his Delmas 6 stronghold, he showed how he was defending the community against gangs allied with the rival Gpep coalition — all while concealing his vast weapons arsenal from our cameras. Styling himself a freedom fighter in the spirit of Che Guevara, he said he was at war with oligarchs who have long dominated the Haitian economy and manipulated its politics. He foreshadowed greater instability and warned against another foreign intervention. All of which have come to pass.
In the summer of 2023, my partner Mark Oltmanns and I returned to Port-au-Prince when street violence was at a fever pitch and international news coverage was nearly non-existent. Gangs controlled more than 80 percent of the capital, flush with high-powered assault rifles that largely came from the US and had police on the defensive. Locals were fighting back with rocks and machetes as part of a vigilante movement known as “Bwa Kale” (crude slang for “erection”). The cycle of gang attacks and reprisals had left thousands dead and displaced hundreds of thousands more, with many fleeing abroad for the US Conditions were the worst I'd experienced since I began reporting in Haiti back in 2006.
Working with Haitian producers Jeremy Dupin and Yvon Vilius, we navigated shifting gang fault lines, where gun battles routinely broke out, to meet with rival gangs and civilians caught in the crossfire. Among them: Lourdy Denis, the despondent father of two boys purportedly killed in an attack by G9 gunmen; teachers who had been kidnapped; and grandmothers struck by stray bullets. After several weeks of waiting, we became the first foreign journalists to gain access to Village de Dieu, the notorious seaside base of the GPep-allied 5 Segond gang, one of the country's biggest cocaine traffickers. Haitian SWAT police have repeatedly tried to penetrate Village and failed, leaving a trail of tactical vehicles and dead officers. Locals regarded us with concern, unsure if we were guests or the gang's latest abductees. One of 5 Segond's leaders, a Fagin-like figure named Manno who is wanted by US authorities for kidnapping, explained how dismal perspectives have fueled a culture of nihilism and swollen his gang's ranks. He dismissed Chérizier as a gangster posturing as a reformer.
Near the end of our shoot, a former Haitian police chief told me the only thing worse than the current scenario would be an alliance between G9 and Gpep, which also came true. In the spring, Chérizier announced the Viv Ansamn (“Live Together”) coalition with a blitz of attacks on police and government buildings. In short order, the international airport and seaport were shut down, and more than 4,000 prisoners were freed. Prime Minister Ariel Henry, out of the country signing a deal to import a multinational security force, was forced to resign. The number of internally displaced people has risen to more than 700,000 — half of whom are children — and the disruption of basic services and aid work has left some 2 million people critically hungry.
In April, a transitional council was formed to re-establish democratic order, and over the summer Kenyan police began deploying as part of a UN-backed mission that has received more than $300 million from the US Joint operations with Haitian police are ongoing in gang -controlled areas, but progress is slow. The gangs are armed with military grade weapons and know the capital's labyrinthine terrain better than anyone. They have opened fire on US Embassy vehicles and UN helicopters, and used live drone feeds to coordinate attacks.
Chérizier told us he will fight foreign forces to the death. He also intimated that he could be persuaded to one day enter politics, should he survive long enough. What's certain is that, as a seasoned shot-caller with scores of well-armed soldiers and an exceptional level of discipline on the street, he's a force to be reckoned with. By the gun or at the negotiating table, any resolution to Haiti's current gang takeover will have to run through him.
Haiti on Fire was directed by Jason Motlagh and Mark Oltmanns, who also served as producers. The short film was produced by XTR and Rolling Stone Films, an Emmy award-winning arm of Rolling Stone. The film was additionally produced by Justin Lacob, Rolling Stone Films senior vice president Jason Fine, and Rolling Stone CEO Gus Wenner. Alexandra Dale, Bryn Mooser, Matthew Cherchio served as executive producers on the film.
