On August 13, 2025, the United States Justice Department unsealed an indictment that sent shockwaves through both American and Haitian communities: Jimmy "Barbecue" Cherizier, one of Haiti’s most notorious gang leaders, and Bazile Richardson, a naturalized U.S. citizen, stand accused of orchestrating a sprawling conspiracy to violate U.S. sanctions and finance violent gang activities in the crisis-wracked Caribbean nation. The charges, announced in Washington, D.C., mark a rare and high-profile attempt by U.S. authorities to target the transnational networks fueling Haiti’s ongoing collapse.
Cherizier, a former elite police officer turned gang boss, has long been a household name in Haiti—sometimes feared, sometimes reviled, and always at the center of controversy. According to Fox News and the National Post, his rise from the ranks of the Haitian National Police to the leader of the Viv Ansanm gang federation has been marked by violence, political maneuvering, and a brazen disregard for international law. The Viv Ansanm alliance, designated as a foreign terrorist organization by the U.S. in May 2025, now controls roughly 90% of Port-au-Prince, Haiti’s capital.
The U.S. State Department has put its money where its mouth is, offering a reward of up to $5 million for information leading to Cherizier’s arrest or conviction. Chris Landberg, a senior State Department official, minced no words: "Cherizier’s reign of terror and mass violence against Haiti must come to an end." Yet, as Jake Johnston of the Center for Economic and Policy Research pointed out to the National Post, the logic of such a bounty is questionable: "This is a guy who is giving international media interviews regularly. I don’t think the issue is being able to find him."
The indictment paints a damning portrait of a "wide-ranging conspiracy"—one that allegedly began in December 2020 and continued through January 2025. At its heart are money transfers solicited from the Haitian diaspora in the United States, with the funds funneled to pay gang salaries and purchase weapons, most of which are smuggled into Haiti from the U.S. itself. The indictment, as reported by Fox News, alleges that Richardson, who grew up with Cherizier in Haiti and now lives in Fayetteville, North Carolina, played a pivotal role in these financial operations.
Richardson, also known by aliases such as "Fredo," "Fred Lion," and "Leo Danger," was arrested in Pasadena, Texas, on July 23, 2025. Prosecutors claim he knowingly sent money to Cherizier despite being aware of his sanctions under the Magnitsky Act, a U.S. law targeting individuals responsible for human rights abuses. U.S. Attorney Jeanine Pirro didn’t hold back: "I want to let the public know that anyone who was giving money to Chérizier, also known as Barbecue, because of his violent acts in his home country, cannot say ‘I didn't know. I didn't know that he was sanctioned by the U.S government.’ They will be prosecuted, and we will find them because they are supporting an individual who was committing human rights abuses. And we will not look the other way."
The roots of Cherizier’s infamy stretch back years. Once a member of the Haitian National Police, he was fired in December 2018 and accused of orchestrating a series of brutal massacres: Grand Ravine in 2017, La Saline in 2018, and Bel-Air in 2019. Over 100 people lost their lives in these attacks, which Cherizier has consistently denied organizing. The 2018 La Saline massacre alone left 71 dead, more than 400 homes destroyed, and at least seven women raped, according to U.S. officials and cited by Fox News.
In June 2020, Cherizier founded the G9 Family and Allies, a coalition of gangs that rapidly expanded its reach and was soon blamed for the deaths of approximately 145 people and multiple rapes in Cite Soleil. The U.S. Treasury Department sanctioned Cherizier and several associates in December 2020. By September 2023, G9 had merged with its former rival, G-Pep, to form the Viv Ansanm federation. This alliance, according to a United Nations Security Council report, took control of the vast majority of Port-au-Prince and launched a series of attacks on government infrastructure in February 2024, including raids on Haiti’s two largest prisons that freed more than 4,000 inmates and forced the closure of the capital’s main international airport for nearly three months.
The chaos unleashed by Viv Ansanm contributed directly to the resignation of former Prime Minister Ariel Henry, who found himself stranded abroad as his government crumbled. Meanwhile, the gang federation’s grip on Port-au-Prince has only tightened, with attacks spreading into previously peaceful neighborhoods and accusations of aiding gangs in other regions of Haiti.
The indictment against Cherizier and Richardson is peppered with evidence of their alleged conspiracy. Prosecutors cited voice memos exchanged among co-conspirators, including one in June 2022 in which a Haitian associate told Richardson, "If I have backup, we will take the power, and you will be able to come back to your country. You will need to serve in the new government." Another memo outlined a revolutionary plan: "We want to start a revolution in Haiti and are trying to collect funds," with ambitious goals to raise money from thousands—if not millions—of Haitians at home and abroad.
Despite the mountain of allegations, Cherizier remains defiant. In a video posted to social media, he rejected the premise that Richardson had ever sent him money and issued a challenge to U.S. authorities: "If the FBI wants me, I’m here. I’m willing to collaborate with them on one condition, there can be no lies told." The absence of an extradition treaty between Haiti and the U.S. complicates any effort to bring Cherizier to justice, a fact not lost on observers or on Cherizier himself.
Meanwhile, Haiti’s descent into lawlessness continues. In early August 2025, gunmen kidnapped an Irish missionary and seven others, including a three-year-old, from an orphanage—just the latest in a string of violent incidents that have displaced hundreds of thousands and left much of the capital in the hands of armed groups. The international community, for its part, has struggled to devise an effective strategy. Jake Johnston, reflecting on the indictment, remarked to the National Post, "It does seem like there’s sort of an escalatory framework happening both in Haiti and the U.S. Where does that actually go?"
U.S. officials remain adamant that the fight is far from over. Darren Cox, acting assistant director of the FBI’s Criminal Investigative Division, told reporters, "The FBI is focused more than ever on crushing violent crime. There is no safe haven for them, or the people like them." The message is clear: those who fund, support, or participate in Haiti’s criminal networks can expect to face the full weight of U.S. law, wherever they may be.
As the world watches Haiti’s unfolding tragedy, the indictment of Cherizier and Richardson stands as both a warning and a test—a measure of how far the U.S. is willing to go to disrupt the nexus of local and international crime that has brought a nation to its knees.
