Four years after the shocking assassination of President Jovenel Moïse, Haiti’s search for justice has taken yet another dramatic turn. On October 13, 2025, the country’s Court of Appeals threw out a controversial indictment and ordered the criminal investigation to start anew, reigniting hopes—however fragile—that the masterminds behind one of the nation’s darkest moments might finally be brought to account.
The Court’s ruling, reported by multiple outlets including Le Nouvelliste and the Associated Press, annulled a 2024 indictment that had charged 51 individuals, among them some of Haiti’s most prominent political figures: Moïse’s widow, Martine Moïse; former Prime Minister Claude Joseph; and former National Police director Léon Charles. The decision cited procedural irregularities and a glaring failure to identify the intellectual authors of the crime. It also acknowledged what many Haitians have long suspected—that previous investigations were marred by contradictions, incomplete evidence, and political interference.
Stepping into the breach as the sixth magistrate to lead the probe is Judge Denis Cyprien, a career prosecutor with nearly two decades in the Haitian legal system. His appointment signals a fresh start, but also underscores the daunting obstacles that have plagued the case from the beginning. Since President Moïse was gunned down at his private residence in Pèlerin on July 7, 2021, five other judges have cycled through the investigation—some dismissed, others threatened, and a few simply overwhelmed by the sheer complexity and danger of the task.
As Le Nouvelliste and the Associated Press detailed, the appeals court’s decision means the case will be reconstructed “in form and substance.” Judge Cyprien is expected to reexamine evidence, rehear witnesses, and—critically—try to trace the chain of command that led from the alleged hitmen to those who financed and orchestrated the plot. The previous indictment by Judge Walther Wesser Voltaire, which charged nearly 50 people, was widely criticized for focusing on lower-level participants while failing to illuminate the motives or the financial backers of the assassination.
“This is a shameful, unjust, and flawed order, intended to reward the assassins and my political opponents,” former Prime Minister Claude Joseph said earlier this year, blasting Judge Voltaire’s now-overturned indictment. His words, echoed by others in Haiti’s fractured political landscape, capture the deep mistrust that has surrounded the investigation from the outset.
Despite the reset, the Court maintained the detention of all suspects already in custody, including 17 former Colombian soldiers and several Haitian police officers. These individuals, accused of direct involvement in the commando-style raid that killed Moïse and wounded his wife, will remain imprisoned as the investigation restarts. Defense attorney Nathalie Delisca, representing some of the detained Colombians, told the Associated Press she would not appeal to Haiti’s Supreme Court, saying, “I do not believe it would change anything.” She also highlighted problems with the prior inquiry, noting that “interpreters in the most recent judicial investigation did not correctly translate her clients’ statements,” and that “some judges even had the decency to note that the interpreters sometimes misrepresented the words of the people being questioned.”
Perhaps the most significant development is the Court’s authorization of expanded international judicial cooperation. The new order calls for Haiti to seek help from the United States and Canada in questioning key witnesses and suspects living abroad, including Léon Charles, former Prime Minister Ariel Henry, Martine Moïse, and her son. The move is seen as a potential game-changer, given that much of the planning and financing for the assassination reportedly took place in South Florida, involving companies and individuals with ties to both the U.S. and Haiti.
The international dimension is not just theoretical. While Haiti’s justice system has struggled—paralyzed by corruption, fear, political manipulation, and a surge in gang violence—the U.S. has acted with greater speed. According to the Associated Press, eleven people have been indicted in Florida for their roles in the transnational plot, five of whom have already received life sentences. Among them are Rodolphe Jaar, a Haitian-Chilean businessman who supplied weapons and logistics; German Rivera, a former Colombian colonel; John Joël Joseph, a former Haitian senator; Joseph Vincent, a Haitian American; and Mario Antonio Palacios, a former Colombian soldier extradited from Jamaica. A sixth, Frederick Bergmann, was sentenced to nine years for illegally exporting bulletproof vests linked to the operation. Six more defendants, including Venezuelan-American Antonio Emmanuel Intriago and several others, are due to stand trial in March 2026 after delays caused by the case’s complexity.
Meanwhile, the Haitian investigation has been mired in dysfunction. More than 40 suspects remain in custody, many without trial—a violation of Haiti’s own procedural deadlines. Human rights groups have condemned the prolonged detentions, and civil society organizations have decried the justice system’s inability to hold a single trial or identify those who orchestrated the killing at the highest level. The situation is so dire that, as attorney Nathalie Delisca put it, “We are living in a deplorable situation.”
For many Haitians, the Moïse case has become a symbol of the nation’s broader crisis. Since the assassination, the country has spiraled into deeper instability. The capital, Port-au-Prince, is under the effective control of armed gangs. The economy teeters on the brink of collapse. Political paralysis reigns, with rival factions unable—or unwilling—to forge a path forward. The failure to deliver justice in the Moïse case is seen not just as a legal setback, but as a blow to the very idea of accountability and the rule of law.
In a poignant message posted on October 7, 2025, marking 51 months since her husband’s murder, former First Lady Martine Moïse renewed her call for justice. Accusing “terrorists” and “oligarchs” of orchestrating the killing, she wrote, “Just like the people, the president’s family is suffering. With patience, we will see justice prevail.” Her words reflect both the pain of a family still seeking closure and the wider yearning of a nation desperate for answers.
As Judge Cyprien takes up the investigation, there is cautious optimism that the combination of renewed judicial vigor and expanded international cooperation could finally break the deadlock. Yet, as history has shown, success will depend not just on legal acumen, but on the independence, courage, and political will to confront powerful interests—qualities that have often been in short supply in Haiti’s troubled justice system. For now, the world watches and waits, hoping that this latest chapter in the Moïse saga will be the one that finally delivers truth and accountability.