What price the soundtrack of security?

Haiti has a soundtrack. Before the earthquake, Port-au-Prince swelled with the noise of two million people in a city that could comfortably accommodate probably one quarter of that number. Then on January 12 the air exploded with the deep bass of the earth itself on the move. Then the screams and laments, the orchestra of the damned. The next day was quiet. People were too dazed and shocked to emote.

On the first night after the disaster people started to sing. On the streets, in groups, afraid to go back indoors, they prayed and sang by candlelight. They sang for a better tomorrow because their yesterdays had failed so spectacularly to given them anything to sing for.

Now, more than two weeks later, the urban cacophony has returned. Clapped out cars jostle for space and attention on the roads. Cockerels seem to inhabit every patch of grass ensuring that nobody in this city can sleep much past 5am. People – so many people – are back on the streets, selling their wares at the tops of their voices.

But there is a new sound here now. One that makes the air vibrate almost continuously in a way that makes you think the much-feared second earthquake could be upon us. It is the constant thump of low flying military helicopters delivering aid and personnel all over the city.

There is no question that the logistical might of the United States marines is impressive. They have mobilised aircraft, boats and vehicles with incredible speed. They have succeeded in delivering tons of urgent food and medical supplies to the stricken people of Haiti.

But military personnel are not aid experts and people are starting to ask questions about the legitimacy or appropriateness of having 13,000 US marines on patrol here as well as armed troops from countries like Canada and Brazil.

The US military were heavily criticised in the early days of the emergency response for taking over Port-au-Prince's airport and prioritising military flights over humanitarian airplanes carrying food, medical supplies, doctors and other experts. They eventually agreed that humanitarian planes should take precedence but what their initial decision exposed was that, from a military perspective, their first priority was to create conditions of security. To anyone versed in the area of humanitarian principles, this verges on the unforgiveable.

Besides, it is possible to argue that they would never have achieved any level of security or stability until the people of Haiti got the supplies they so desperately needed.

A growing source of concern in Haiti is what appears to be the growing inter-dependence of the government, foreign military and humanitarian sectors in the response.

The limitations of the Haitian government are hugely apparent, both in organisational ability and influence. The US military engagement filled a vacuum. But did they fill it best, or merely fill it first?

Co-operation between NGOs and the military – any military – has a long and difficult history. It can be difficult sometimes for a host population to distinguish between the myriad groups of foreigners flooding their landscape in the wake of a disaster. (In a conflict scenario it is even more complex, with tensions high and political affiliations to the fore.) NGOs are by their nature largely benelovent set-ups but any military engagement is always accompanied by a certain element of distrust or cynicism.

It doesn't help that the troops in Haiti are heavily armed and their oversized, camouflage-painted Humvee trucks seem to clog every artery and highway in Port-au-Prince. In the early aftermath there was a lot of reports of insecurity and chaos here, and there was a certain amount of truth to those reports. The troops would doubtless now lay claim to having quelled that tension. But two important questions remain: what would the security situation look like now if they weren't here (we'll never know) and, if the tensions are gone, just how long do they plan to remain?

One solution might be for a precise mandate for the US military engagement to be drawn up between their commanders and the Government of Haiti, dicating their precise roles and responsibilities as we begin the move from the relief phase into recovery. This should happen sooner rather than later. Added to that, a strict timetable for engagement, to include an agreed-upon date for withdrawal, should be agreed as a matter of priority.

To employ a cliché, the road to recovery will be a long one. The Haitians themselves must lead the way but we in the humanitarian sector will be by their side for the duration. As humanitarians, we all dream of a day when foreign troops will be unnecessary to this process and when we can wave them goodbye, with thanks for a job done quickly.

Until then the sky above me throbs with the blades of more helicopters, and the cacophony goes on.