The Battle of Vertières: Descendant of Revolution This section of TOYA’s world is where history, memory and present reality, collide. I was minding my own business, writing the next episode of TOYA!—charting for Season One, how Makandal, Toya, and the Dede Society laid the clandestine groundwork for revolution in 1757—when FIFA decided to holler for the attention of Black folks. They issued a ruling stating that the Hayti World Cup soccer team jersey artwork violated their rules about not being “political.” FIFA’s ruling points to a facially neutral equipment rule barring “political, religious, or personal” messages. But the plausible deniability of these white folks sits at what FIFA chooses to police—and arbitrarily classify—as “political.” The rejected image did not promote a modern party, a candidate, a current war, or a policy demand. It commemorated the decisive 1803 Battle of Vètyè (Vertières in English)—the direct culmination of the Hayti Revolution I am writing about in TOYA: The Warrior Who Raised An Empire.
That classification of heritage as “political” says far more about FIFA’s racism than it does about Hayti’s choice of jersey art. The team naturally recalled Vètyè because Les Grenadiers qualified for the World Cup last year on November 18, 2025—the exact anniversary of the Battle of Vertières (Batay Vètyè). It is a day Haytians honor every single year. FIFA’s ruling evidences a glaring double standard. It becomes impossible to defend when other countries are permitted to carry historic and national symbolism without penalty:
Those references are generally embraced as identity, culture, heritage, or national pride—never as prohibited politics. So the double standard is not simply that one shirt contained “history.” It is that the former colonizer’s history is normalized as culture, while the history of enslaved people overthrowing an empire is treated as political, dangerous, and out of bounds. Vertières is not merely a generic battle scene. For Hayti, it is foundational national memory. To remove it from the uniform is to suggest that Hayti may display colors and symbols only after their revolutionary meaning has been emptied out. That fits a much longer pattern: Hayti’s liberation is praised abstractly, but its actual defeat of France, its abolitionist force, its Black military sovereignty, and its absolute refusal of colonial rule remain uncomfortable for the global establishment. The Battle of Vertière is our legacy. We are the children of Vertière. Our ancestors defeated three empires to abolish slavery. —Èzili Dantò, HLLN & FreeHaitiMovement Batay Vètyè se eritaj nou li ye. Nou se pitit Vètyè. Zansèt nou yo te bat twa anpi pou aboli esklavaj. —Èzili Dantò, HLLN & FreeHaitiMovement A national liberation victory should not become impermissible merely because the liberated people were Black and the defeated power was European. As head of the #FreeHaitiMovement, I will always take the time to push back on the bullying of the Internationals regarding Hayti’s commemorative artwork. Why is France’s imperial memory called heritage, while Hayti’s victory over enslavement is called politics? Bottom line: FIFA can order that the Battle of Vertières artwork be removed from the jersey kit. But they absolutely cannot remove Vertières from the people wearing it. Here’s the transcript for the video above, both in standard Kreyòl and in English: BATAY VÈTYÈ NOU SE PITIT PITIT REVOLISYON AN * Batay Vètyè se eritaj nou li ye. Nou se pitit Vètyè. Zansèt nou yo te bat twa anpi pou aboli esklavaj. * The Battle of Vertières We are the descendants of the revolution. * The Battle of Vertières is our legacy. We are the children of Vertières. Our ancestors defeated three empires to abolish slavery. If you’re reading my TOYA series and want to understand the modern resonance of that fight—why this history isn’t safe or settled, the FIFA ruling is your evidence. |