Cuba

Fidel Castro, mago del mercadeo político. De Alberto Barrera Tyszka

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Alberto-Barrera-Tyszka-640Alberto Barrera Tyszka, 28 noviembre 2016 /THE NEW YORK TIMES

Fidel Castro fue un publicista fuera de serie, un mago del marketing político. ¿Cómo es posible que, después casi seis décadas imponiendo de cualquier manera y a cualquier precio su control sobre un país, todavía a la hora de su muerte haya quien lo pondere como un líder democrático? Ahí está su mayor talento, el legado más importante que le deja a la historia: se puede ser un tirano despiadado y, sin embargo, pasar a la posteridad como un revolucionario.

NEW YORK TOMES NYTSu vida es un ejemplo de cómo la mezcla adecuada de carisma y cinismo puede lograr que un feroz dictador parezca un líder polémico. El éxito más contundente de la revolución cubana es la campaña publicitaria de Fidel. Destruyó todo con tal de salvarse, de salvar su propia marca.

En su biografía del Che, Jon Lee Anderson relata una anécdota que presenta a Fidel en genio y figura. Es 1957, el desembarco del Granma resultó un fracaso y la guerrilla de la Sierra Maestra no llega a 20 combatientes. Sin embargo, Castro acepta una entrevista con un reportero de The New York Times. Herbert Matthews llega al campamento y ya Fidel ha preparado una astucia para hacerle creer que tiene varias brigadas de rebeldes en diferentes lugares de las montañas, que son un ejército grande cuyo único destino posible es la toma del poder.

El periodista, actuando de buena fe, apuntó todo y multiplicó las fuerzas de Castro en las páginas de su periódico, en la inocencia de sus lectores, en la mirada que todo el planeta tenía sobre la isla. Desde muy temprano, Fidel entendió que el engaño mediático era un arma determinante en cualquier batalla.

El contexto de la Guerra Fría le ofreció un clima perfecto para convertirse en el centro de una batalla simbólica. Fidel también supo aprovechar la tensión mundial para acrecentar su poder y distribuir su carisma como cualquier agencia de producción publicitaria. El bloqueo estadounidense fue una tragedia para Cuba y una bendición para Fidel. El mejor regalo que pudo hacerle el imperio: convertirlo en su gran enemigo. Le ofrecieron un escenario ideal para construir una épica moderna, asociada a las ideas libertarias. Así, Fidel pudo desarrollar su mito personal en todo el mundo mientras, dentro de su isla privada, consolidaba su poder autoritario, imponía la censura y la represión a cualquier disidencia, llegando incluso a perseguir y encarcelar a homosexuales y poetas.

La figura de Fidel no se puede separar del hechizo que tuvo y que todavía tiene la palabra revolución en nuestro continente. Es un hechizo que, por supuesto, también está ligado a las condiciones de la mayoría de nuestra población. Tiene que ver con la tragedia de la pobreza, de la desigualdad, de la violencia, de la impunidad… Fidel terminó convirtiendo la esperanza de los pobres en su negocio privado. Y fue un negocio muy rentable. Manejado con la eficacia de un capitalista impúdico. Después de estrujar hasta el cansancio a sus financistas —la Unión Soviética, la Venezuela de Chávez— la Revolución Cubana no tuvo ningún reparo en diluir la ideología y volver a voltearse hacia su enemigo. Después de casi 60 años, el balance de la historia no resulta muy gratificante: regresar a una dictadura pero con un país destruido, una nacionalidad muy dividida. Es un ejercicio que benefició fundamentalmente a una sola familia. Con 85 años, Raúl Castro ha decidido que lo más saludable es entregar el poder en el 2018.

Eliseo Alberto, fabuloso escritor cubano, hijo del genial poeta Eliseo Diego, escribió un libro imprescindible: “Informe contra mi mismo”. Entre las muchas crónicas que ofrece, hay una que me resulta entrañable. Un hombre ha logrado escapar de Cuba y trata de sostener su dignidad ante el asedio de la clásica prensa europea, siempre dispuesta a perdonar cualquier exceso de los gobiernos “revolucionarios”. El periodista progresista lo acosa y le reclama los supuestos éxitos de la revolución: la salud pública y la educación ¿Qué puede decir sobre eso? ¿Acaso no es cierto? El cubano duda un segundo y, luego, responde: sí. Puede ser. Pero en la vida uno no siempre está enfermo o estudiando.

Fidel Castro vivió mucho y, para hacerlo, redujo de muy distintas maneras la vida de muchos cubanos. Utilizó a su país, a su gente, para crear una marca comercial exitosa. Tanto que logró convertir a sus víctimas en aliados, en fieles devotos. Su historia debe ser estudiada así como se estudia la historia de la Coca Cola, por ejemplo. Forma parte de la enciclopedia de los signos comerciales. Esa fue su mayor eficacia. Su verdadera victoria tiene que ver únicamente con su permanencia en el poder.

Y en esa historia hay mas violencia en contra de los otros, más manipulación, que heroísmo. Su biografía podría ser un manual. El espectáculo Castro: ¿cómo ser un tirano y, aún así, lograr que los papas te visiten y los Rolling Stone canten en tu casa?

 

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Sobre Fidel y su legado. Una recopilación

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Mares de tinta se han derramado desde la muerte de Fidel. Aquí una lista de links a los artículos más intersantes, dejando afuera tanto los elogios de sus partidarios de una izquierda acrítica como los discursos de sus enemigos de una derecha igualmente acrítica.

Yo soy la revolución. De Antonio Elorza/EL PAIS

Death of the caudillo: Fidel Castro was a voice from Latin America’s difficult past. De Manuel Hinds/Quartz

Cuba sobrevive a Fidel Castro. De Yoani Sánchez/EL PAIS

No puedo odiar a Fidel, pero tampoco adularlo. De Paolo Luers/EDH

No me arrepiento de nada. De Fernando Mires/POLISMIRES

Postscript: Fidel Castro, 1926-2016. De Lee Anderson/THE NEW YORKER

Cuando el ‘boom’ latinoamericano abandonó a Fidel Castro. De Loreto Sánchez Seoane/EL INDEPENDIENTE

Fidel Castro’s Reign Riddled With Contradictions. De William Rowlandson/NEWSWEEK

Forget Fidel Castro’s policies. What matters is that he was a dictator. De Zoe Williams/THE GUARDIAN

Una nueva revolución en Cuba. De Joaquín Villalobos/EL PAIS

Sepulcro difícil de cerrar. De Juan M. Ortega/EL PAIS

Fidel in All His Facets. De Roger Cohen/THE NEW YORK TIMES

A Fidel Castro no lo absolverá la historia. De Mario Vargas Llosa/EL PAIS

Cuba sin Fidel, pero con Raúl. De Efraín Vázquez Vera/EL PAIS

Fidel Castro, mago del mercadeo político. De Alberto Barrera Tyszka/THE NEW YORK TIMES

Ha sido un largo y victorioso camino que hemos marchado juntos Cuba y El Salvador. Discurso de Salvador Sánchez en La Habana. presidencia.gob.sv

¿Era Fidel Castro un revolucionario? De Manuel Hinds/EDH

 

 

…se completará

Cuba: The Big Change. De Alma Guillermoprieto

Stephen Crowley/The New York Times/Redux

Stephen Crowley/The New York Times/Redux

Alma Guillermoprieto, 13 abril 2016 / THE NEW YORK REVIEW OF BOOKS

One could swear that nothing has changed. The chaotic lines we travelers form in front of Cuba’s stern immigration officers; their belligerent slowness; the noise and heat in the too-small room; the echoing shouts across the room from one olive-green-clad person to another (an argument or a conversation about the lunch menu, in Cuba one can never tell which); the parents who stand patiently in line with their children, waiting for them to go berserk.

Screen Shot 2016-04-21 at 11.09.34 AMStill to come is the long line to have our hand luggage inspected, and the longer wait for our checked bags, which, mysteriously, aren’t inspected at all, and the exit line that will take us from purgatory into Cuba at last, but not before we’ve done one final penance waiting for a driver who never arrives, and another ten minutes for a shot of coffee that likewise never arrives, and one last relatively brisk line to change dollars into the confounding Cuban currency-for-foreigners, and a short line for transportation that some three hours after landing is about to take us, finally, into Havana.

And throughout, the increasingly irritated question: Why does it have to be like this? Why, for the fifty-seven years since Fidel Castro rode into Havana at the head of a scruffy rebel army, has it always had to be like this? Really, one could swear that nothing has changed.

And then, BOOM! the new reality. The driver of my spiffy yellow checkered taxi blasts on the air conditioner and lowers the window to shout the week’s hit song into the tropical air. He has the manner of someone on a steady diet of coke or Coke, pays no attention to me, fiddles with the radio dial, shouts out another song, nearly sideswipes five ancient cars in quick succession, skids to a halt at my destination, a residencia particular where I have managed to find the last available room in the entire city, dumps out my luggage, and screeches away, on the prowl for more passengers, more guanikiki. You know: moolah, billete…money!

All around in the old, familiar rattletrap neighborhood of Vedado there are more surprises: the sidewalk in front of my building is being replaced; the house across the street is being repainted; the avenue we just turned off of is freshly asphalted; a construction crane is visible just behind a block of delicately collapsing Art Nouveau residences. Everything is changing, or about to change, or promising to change, because the biggest change of all is about to happen. Barack Obama, leader of the Marxist Cuban state’s archenemy, is about to land for a state visit at the invitation of Cuban president Raúl Castro. The stock phrase being used in the press is that this is “the first visit by a sitting US president in eighty-eight years,”1 but of course that’s not the point. It’s the first visit since the Cuban Revolution, the first since the Bay of Pigs, the first since Fidel brought in the nuclear missiles that made the world freeze in fear of imminent nuclear annihilation in 1962, the first since the United States imposed fifty years of diplomatic and commercial isolation on an island with a population of eleven million.

There was a history of US-Cuban relations before that, too, and every Cuban remembers its bitterness. The Spanish-American War of 1898 was the United States’ imperial adventure in the Caribbean. It did not end when, after three years of occupation, Cuba agreed to sign the Platt Amendment. Essentially, the amendment allowed the US to take over Guantánamo and obligated Cuba to consult with and obey the US at every move. It was in force for thirty-three years. It’s impossible to understand the long hold Fidel Castro had on the imagination of so many of his compatriots—and so many disenfranchised citizens in Latin America—without this past. Cannily, and also wholeheartedly, he embodied the hero who led a heroic people in their fervent defiance of the Yanqui. Lest they slip in their convictions, a billboard in front of the former US embassy permanently shouted at the señores imperialistas that Cubans felt no fear of them whatsoever.

The anti-imperialist sign disappeared when Obama and Raúl officially reestablished relations in July 2015, and now a visitor might suspect that anti-imperialist socialism has been replaced by a sort of cargo cult whose deity is Obama. What, I asked, was that enormous decrepit building in which children could be heard at play? It was a collapsing school that would soon be fixed. A gulch-like street, a dysfunctional distribution system, all would be fixed: Obama was coming!

The apartment I shared with a colleague reminded us constantly of how tough everyday life still is for Cubans, despite the changes. Far above the standard for the typical Cuban dwelling, it required constant coping. Nothing worked properly in the kitchen, starting with the sixty-year-old stove, whose burners went from gas-belcher to towering inferno in seconds. There were two knives, neither of which could cut through a pepper I’d stuck in my luggage. Water set to boil in a dented tin pot soon developed an oily gray skin. At night, one of Havana’s pet-sized cockroaches winked its antennae at me from behind a threadbare dishtowel.

Nothing could be wasted: the hangers in the bedroom closet whose lower wire had rusted away had been carefully clipped so that the remains could still be used to hang blouses on. Every wall was a different color, according to what small amount of paint the owner had been able to scavenge on a given day. All this was the best the Cuban economy could provide in the bonanza years of the twenty-first century, and only because the owner had relatives abroad who could help finance the apartment’s renovation. “Now with Obama,” the owner said, in expectation of renewed trade between the two countries, “I hope I can really put this place together.”

The joke on everyone’s lips was that Obama should stay in Havana for a month, because in preparation for his three-day visit more had been done to fix up the place than in the previous half-century. In fact, the visit is happening because enormous change has already taken place, most of it at the urging of Raúl Castro, but there is only occasional grudging recognition of that. “Things are better,” an outspoken woman I know said, “but not enough.”

There is no more of the desperate hunger that afflicted everyone in the days following the collapse of the Soviet Union. Microwaves, rice cookers, and, most significantly, cell phones can all be legally purchased, and my outspoken acquaintance can shout her objections to the way things are at the top of her voice, not sharing my concern that someone might hear. (A concern that keeps me even now from identifying almost everyone in this story. The list of Cubans punished for speaking to foreign journalists is too long, and repression of the formal opposition too active, to take any sort of freedom of expression for granted.)

“What I want to know,” my acquaintance exclaimed loudly, “is why it takes the Revolution half a century to correct each mistake?” This is an exaggeration—there were mistakes, like the concentration camps for homosexuals and Seventh-Day Adventists set up in the 1960s, that were rectified in mere years instead of decades—but it is tangentially related to the question that must trouble the mind of those responsible for the huge current changes: How many mistakes can safely be corrected? When the house you live in is falling apart, how much can you tinker with the plumbing, the windows, the door jambs, and the supporting walls before the whole edifice collapses around you? This is the question whose answer Raúl Castro has been exploring since he came to power eight years ago.

Raúl Castro is the fourth of seven siblings born to a Cuban household cook and a poorly educated Spanish immigrant who made his fortune growing sugar cane on the eastern tip of Cuba—initially for the United Fruit Company. Like his older brother Fidel, Raúl grew up as a judío, or Jew, the quaint term used by conservative Catholics in Cuba for unbaptized children. (Raúl’s father did not marry his mother until he was twelve, and so the Castro children could not be baptized.)

Raúl seems to have determined from the start that he could not be anything like his strapping, handsome, charismatic, brilliant brother. Small and unprepossessing, he did poorly at school and became expert at dominating the background. He was with Fidel during his rabble-rousing university days in Havana and at his spectacularly failed assault on a military barracks in the eastern city of Santiago in 1953. He was by Fidel’s side during the exile years in Mexico, and also on the creaky old yacht that in 1956 carried several dozen men to their disastrous landing in a Cuban mangrove and subsequent near annihilation by the dictator Fulgencio Batista’s troops.

Along with Ernesto Guevara, known as Che, Fidel went on to create a guerrilla army—the Ejército Rebelde—in the island’s eastern mountains. In part because the United States withdrew its support from Batista, and also thanks to a courageous civilian opposition, the rebel army triumphed. On January 1, 1959, Batista fled Cuba, and one week later Fidel entered Havana. Raúl immediately and cheerfully ordered the execution without trial of several dozen of Batista’s alleged torturers and assassins. Raúl then went about the task of consolidating a military force capable of defending the island against a US invasion. For the next forty-eight years the younger brother pursued this task, keeping his opinions to himself and rarely appearing in public. Anyone who stopped to think about it, however, knew that he was inevitably the second-most-powerful man in the country.

Because he ran an army, it was assumed that he was rigid and unimaginative, but those close to the Castro brothers’ inner circle spoke of Raúl as the tolerant one, the one who made sure all family members were made welcome at the weekly meals hosted by him and his wife—a former debutante and MIT student who joined Fidel’s movement from the beginning. Unlike his brother, he had a quick, self-deprecating sense of humor and a pragmatic turn of mind. In 2006, when Fidel was taken sick and announced his temporary retirement, positions in the National Assembly—the regime’s legislative body—were shuffled in order to place Raúl in the direct line of succession. Two years later, when it became evident that Fidel could no longer return to power, Raúl was confirmed as leader of the Cuban state.

The changes began immediately. “I won’t speak for very long,” said the man who had spent the better part of his life listening to his brother put others to sleep in the course of all-night monologues. And indeed, the newcomer has since distinguished himself by making few and short, to-the-point announcements, and then doing more or less what he says he’ll do. Since he took power, cell phones became legal, unused state land was turned over to private farmers, and for the first time in more than half a century ordinary Cubans have been able to purchase and sell property and travel abroad.

The Internet, so feared by hard-line conservatives in the government, became accessible to anyone with the money to pay for it, or the Cuban skills needed to get around the pay barrier. Pornography, most foreign stories about Cuba, and local, independent online publications are still blocked. Perhaps most importantly, within months after taking power, Raúl told the actor Sean Penn that he would consider meeting with Barack Obama if the then Democratic candidate were elected president.

Fidel’s brother has clearly been thinking ahead in a way the aging Fidelistas in the Cuban Communist Party have not. He may be trying to modernize Cuban socialism to the point where it is capitalist and open enough to accommodate the restless generations who are now under forty-five years of age; he may be dreaming of something like a Norway-under-the-palm-trees or, more likely, China-on-a-daiquiri. Perhaps he has the sense that the revolution is finished, that there is no future in the old dogmas and failures, that sixty years of poverty and repression are enough, and that he has no real power to control the inevitable future. Perhaps he is simply trying to ensure, finger in the dike, that a newly capitalist Cuba does not slide into a morass of corruption and cynicism.

Meanwhile, Raúl has internal opposition to face, starting with his brother, who still speaks for the old históricos in the Party. On the Monday following Obama’s visit Fidel published a meandering, querulous “reflection” about “Brother Obama,” whose point was hard to decipher, other than the fact that Obama trod Cuban ground not during his time in office.2 The gates for Fidelistas to air their irritation in virtually all the government-controlled media were thus opened, although by and large the protests are contorted pieces of writing, because they can attack Obama but not Raúl.

In a phone conversation from Mexico, the respected Cuban historian Rafael Rojas, who has not been allowed to return to his country since 1994 but studies it closely nevertheless,3 pondered the array of forces supporting and opposing Raúl Castro. “There is the [internationally recognized] opposition within Cuba,” Rojas said, “but it has little visibility inside Cuba because of its lack of access to media. Also—and this is a delicate subject because it generates controversy—it is affected by the dynamic of its dependence on the US-Cuban opposition based in Miami. However, there is another, invisible, opposition,” Rojas went on. “A reformist current within the various ministries sets itself apart not only from the orthodox, official line, but from Raúl himself. It believes that change must come more quickly.”

It’s not easy to see how the economic transition could go much faster: the difficulties are everywhere, and many people argue that without economic reform political reforms cannot prosper. A recent online debate among economists in Cuba and abroad examined the vexing issue of the Cuban peso (CUPs)—what Cuban salaries are paid in—versus Cuban convertible pesos (CUCs), which are pegged to the US dollar and can be changed into foreign currency.4 They are worth about twenty-five times as much as the lowly peso.

With the peso, and their ration card, Cubans and only Cubans can go into one of the miserable bodegas that dot every neighborhood and get their ever-diminishing rations of soap, rice, beans, cooking oil, and not much more, and also buy the few extra things the bodega has for sale but not always, like fruit juice or batteries. It is now possible for Cubans to buy items with CUPs in formerly CUC-only stores. Everyone agrees that both currencies should be unified as soon as possible, but one problem is that peso items are heavily subsidized.

Then there is the question of the surplus value, to use an old Marxist term, that the Cuban government extracts from its workers. Although the private sector has grown exponentially since Raúl Castro’s reforms, about 70 percent of the labor force still works for the state, earning an average of six hundred pesos—about $25—a month. In recent years the state has allowed a skill-based range of wages for its workers, and so some doctors now make as much as $67 a month. By comparison, though, the owner of the private home I stayed in is allowed to charge, in CUCs, the equivalent of $35 a night per guest, in each of two bedrooms that are fairly steadily occupied by tourists.

Meanwhile, the state is taking in an estimated $2.5 billion a year by renting out its doctors to more than sixty different governments. But it only pays those doctors some $300 a month while their stint lasts, plus less than $200 that are deposited monthly in a Cuban account, as a sort of inducement to doctors to return home after their tour of duty. In essence, the urgent task of unifying the two currencies will require the government to stop budgeting in funny money, find enough income to raise wages from their current indecent levels, and somehow fend off the almost inevitable inflation that will follow.

A member of the Catholic opposition I talked to one morning pointed out that the full-throttle development Cuba needs will leave tremendous inequality in its path, and indeed, I couldn’t see how the future was going to be anything but grim for someone like a taxi driver I’ll call Marcelo, who drove me around a few times. He was old enough to remember “a little bit” of how bitter prerevolutionary times were for his family, who were poor and black. Under Fidel, on the other hand, he had gotten free health care, a good education, and served abroad in a diplomatic position; it was no wonder that he was a proud member of the Communist Party. Now retired, he owned a rusty, rattling Russian Lada, perhaps twenty years old, whose gearshift popped out of its box every time he accelerated. The motor tended to go AWOL at stoplights, the floor of the trunk had rusted through, and the doors opened only from the outside.

Magnum Photos . A living room in Havana with a poster of Fidel Castro at right, 2015; photograph by Carl De Keyzer from his book Cuba, La Lucha, which includes an essay by Gabriela Salgado and has just been published by Lannoo. His photographs are on view at the Roberto Polo Gallery, Brussels, through May 15.

Magnum Photos. A living room in Havana with a poster of Fidel Castro at right, 2015; photograph by Carl De Keyzer from his book Cuba, La Lucha, which includes an essay by Gabriela Salgado and has just been published by Lannoo. His photographs are on view at the Roberto Polo Gallery, Brussels, through May 15.

A living room in Havana with a poster of Fidel Castro at right, 2015; photograph by Carl De Keyzer from his book Cuba, La Lucha, which includes an essay by Gabriela Salgado and has just been published by Lannoo. His photographs are on view at the Roberto Polo Gallery, Brussels, through May 15.

There wasn’t much life left in the old thing, but Marcelo, in his healthy sixties, could still have two decades in front of him, on a government retirement income equivalent to $7 a month. What was his future going to look like when his old workhorse gave out, now that the only way to make ends meet is to work for foreigners and get paid in CUCs? He didn’t answer the question, nor did he resume his usual cheery banter during the rest of the ride, and one could easily guess that his loyalties lay with Fidelista traditionalists rather than the reformist Raúl.5

Whether he sees this transition to its conclusion or gets swallowed up by it, Raúl Castro doesn’t have much time: he has announced his retirement following the general elections of 2018, when he will be eighty-six, and he is pressing for a two-term limit for all public officeholders. This, in fact, might be the only thing he and Barack Obama have in common: two leaders on their way out, bent on consolidating a legacy that their successors won’t be able to tear apart.

On the day of Obama’s arrival the streets were weirdly empty, as if most of the people of Havana had decided to stay away from any potential trouble.6 But with each passing hour they grew bolder. Soon enough, buildings emptied and crowds gathered wherever the arrival of motorized police heralded an imminent sighting of POTUS. People cheered awkwardly, not quite sure how to express the thrill they felt.

There was similar awkwardness between the two leaders: smiles and friendly chatting that reporters with Obama noticed even beyond the photo-ops, and a press conference Raúl Castro found so annoying, baffling, unnecessary, and threatening that he talked to his son through the first reporter’s questions, which happened to be about human rights. Obama, in his cocky, king-of-the-hill mode, then insulted his aged host with a theatrical wink at the audience as the old man fumbled with his earphones. Eventually, an angry Castro challenged the reporter to give him the names of any political prisoners and the press conference ground to its embarrassing end.

Although US media declared Obama the winner in the encounter, it hardly mattered that the presidents failed to charm each other or that Castro failed to win over the public. Obama is as skilled at public relations as any US politician, and the leader of a monolithic state hardly needs charm. Both sides got what they came for, which for the United States was to establish a mutually advantageous relationship with its neighboring country. For Cuba, it meant first and foremost doing away with the embargo, as Raúl Castro explained to Sean Penn years ago, but this will be for Congress, not Obama, to decide.

The major lobby for a change in the ground rules went to Cuba along with Obama. Warren Buffett was there, and Google too, along with the presidents of Paypal and Airbnb and representatives from various airlines who have negotiated the rights to land 110 flights from the United States to Havana every day. At a press briefing for journalists traveling with Obama, Deputy National Security Secretary Ben Rhodes added that GE and Caterpillar would like to persuade the Cuban government to buy their products. Also at the briefing was the chair of the US Chamber of Commerce, Carlos Gutiérrez, an exiled Cuban who as George W. Bush’s commerce secretary had campaigned hard against any rapprochement with the Castro regime. He came forward to intercept questions about human rights by assuring everyone that “the right to make a living” was a basic human right that would expand through US investment.

The excitement of the investment suitors and their sense of possibility were mirrored everywhere. Tourists strolled through Old Havana in their thousands, thrilled by the absolute newness of the place and relishing the absence of things that Cuba no doubt will soon acquire. Havana is the city where one is not chased and intruded on by loudspeakers blasting music in every store: there are no stores, or almost none. There are no advertisements; no traffic jams; no shopping malls; no twenty-four-hour Internet and its accompanying addictions; no supermarkets with their endless rows of choices. A vacation in Cuba is a respite from capitalism.

During the long, harsh decades under the regime created and led by Fidel Castro, these austerities were not a source of pride. What moved young people all over the world and what Cubans of the revolutionary period valued about themselves was instead their own resilience, their courage, and their spartan gift for unwavering commitment to a cause. Those days of heroic faith are over, and perhaps soon the reflex habit of repression will end too, and there will be no more political prisoners, who still number in the dozens, and no censorship. “Years ago it was difficult to hear our music [in Cuba] but here we are,” Mick Jagger said in decent Spanish. He was addressing an enormous crowd in Havana that gathered for a historic free concert by the Rolling Stones the day after Obama left. “Times are changing, no?”

Perhaps no other community felt the regime’s intolerance and persecution more consistently over the years than artists, but now they are finding a sense of renewed opportunity and purpose in the Cuban moment. In Old Havana an installation by the artist Felipe Dulzaides recreates the school of theater at the legendary National Arts Schools, which survive in ruinous condition in the suburb of Cubanacán. The schools were a favorite project of Fidel Castro, who put the architect Ricardo Porro in charge of the project. Porro himself designed the dance and visual arts schools, and recruited two friends, the Italians Vittorio Garatti and Roberto Gottardi, to design the music and ballet schools and the theater school, respectively. But the vanguard architecture of the schools was censored by the revolution before all the buildings could be finished.

Ricardo Porro died in Paris in 2014, Garatti returned to Italy years ago, and the school of theater survives in fragile disrepair, as does its own wry eighty-nine-year-old architect, Roberto Gottardi, who still lives in Cuba. At the adventurous art gallery in Old Havana where Dulzaides is presenting his homage to the school and its architect, he showed me a video and photo installation, and an exquisite scale model of the school made by Gottardi’s students. Now, perhaps, the National Arts Schools themselves might one day revive. “Gottardi has spent the last fifty-two years trying to figure out how the theater school can be completed,” Dulzaides said. “To me, that is the perfect metaphor for the Cuban Revolution today.”

—April 13, 2016

1
Former president Jimmy Carter went to Havana in 2002 and 2011. Following negotiations with then President Fidel Castro, he went on state-controlled television in 2002 and introduced Cubans to Oswaldo Payá’s democracy project, a signature-collecting campaign in favor of free expession and freedom of association, which most had never been able to hear of. He subsequently watched a baseball game, after throwing the first ball at Castro’s insistence. In 2011 he participated in talks intended to improve relations with the United States. ↩

2
An indispensable book by William LeoGrande and Peter Kornbluh, Back Channel to Cuba (University of North Carolina Press, 2014), traces the repeated efforts by Fidel Castro and each of his counterparts in the White House, from Eisenhower to Obama, to understand each other and reach working agreements on points of conflict or mutual interest. ↩

3
Rojas was granted a four-day courtesy visa in 2009 on the occasion of his father’s death. ↩

4
“La Unificación Monetaria: Un Desafío de Enormes Proporciones,” Cuba Posible, February 22, 2016. ↩

5
The dissatisfaction with recent reforms felt by the rank-and-file of the Communist Party of Cuba is expected to be aired at the Seventh Party Congress, to take place on April 16–18. Several articles in the official press have pointed out that the all-important Sixth Party Congress of 2011 approved dramatic economic reforms—allowing hundreds of thousands to work in the private sector, for example—only after extensive and effective consultation with the base of party members. There has been no equivalent lengthy discussion period prior to the Seventh Congress. A member of the reformist wing of the party I talked to countered the critics by saying that the current proposed reforms are merely extensions or improvements of the reforms approved in the 2011 Congress. ↩

6
This wasn’t true of the well-known opposition group Ladies in White, who tried to march as usual down the Quinta Avenida. The Washington Post has a video online of what happened; see “Cuban Protestors Arrested Ahead of Obama Visit,” March 20, 2016. Primly, the security forces assigned female police to shove the female protesters into police vans. The protest group, well recognized abroad, has little visibility in Cuba because its actions are not mentioned in official media. Nor was there any news in the government press of the more than five hundred arrests of dissidents in the weeks prior to Obama’s visit. In virtually all cases these days, protesters are released after a few hours, although occasionally they are beaten or interrogated before their release. ↩

Rocking Cuba. The Stones

 

 

13 de marzo 1963, Universidad La Habana: Fidel Castro declara la guerra al Rock and Roll:
“Por ahí anda un espécimen, otro subproducto que nosotros debemos combatir (…) muchos de esos pepillos vagos, hijos de burgueses andan por ahí con unos pantaloncitos demasiado estrechos, algunos de ellos con una guitarrita en aptitudes Elvispreslyanas (…) y que han llevado su libertinaje a querer ir a algunos sitios de concurrencia pública, a organizar sus shows feminoides. La sociedad socialista no puede permitir este tipo de degeneraciones.”

Carta a los periodistas con mejores salarios… y sin cojones. De Paolo Luers

14584985915524

Disidentes cubanos se manifiestan el día antes de la llegada de Obama, y son arrestados.

paolo luers caricaturaPaolo Luers, 23 marzo 2016 / EDH

Colegas:
Esto va a los colegas que este lunes estaban en la histórica conferencia de prensa conjunta de Barack Obama y Raúl Castro en La Habana. Y los que se callaron el pico cuando Raul Castro dijo, literalmente: “Si hay presos políticos, dame la lista para soltarlos. Dime el nombre o los nombres para soltarlos. Si hay presos políticos a la noche los suelto.

Nadie dijo nada, y ver esta escena y escuchar este silencio ha sido uno de los pocos momentos que me da pena ser periodista.

¡Que banda de cobardes y oportunistas! Todos en esta sala, sin excepción, si no tenían a la mano la lista completa de presos políticos en Cuba (que la debieron tener si son periodistas de verdad), se sabían los nombres de los más prominentes disidentes presos. Y todos se callaron, cuando era el momento histórico de hablar y poner a prueba las palabras del presidente cubano…

La lista que nadie le dio a Castro

La lista que nadie le dio a Castro

Obviamente no estoy hablando de los periodistas cubanos que estaban en esta sala. Cualquiera de ellos que abre el pico por lo menos pierde su trabajo. Esto va con los periodistas estrella que tienen el privilegio de acompañar al presidente Obama en su Air Force One; los que ahora andan con él en Cuba, aprovechando el Día Mundial de la Poesía para escribir poemas sobre el fin de la guerra fría.

Nadie de ellos habló. ¡Que silencio tan elocuente! Todos tienen la información sobre los presos políticos (y si uno de ellos no la tiene, fue un error de mandarlo a Cuba); todos hubieran podido aprovechar la situación para gritar por lo menos un nombre. ¿Hubieran corrido un riesgo? Me imagino que sí. El riesgo de no volver a conseguir visa de periodista para trabajar en Cuba. Riesgo tal vez incluso de ya no ser invitado al pool de periodistas que viaja con el presidente de Estados Unidos.

Tal vez sí, tal vez no. Pero cualquiera que se hubiera animado a desafiar a Castro y ponerlo en la situación de tener que explicar porque no cumplía su promesa, hubiera salido de esta sala, tal vez no como héroe, pero como periodista decente.

No corrían riesgo de perder su trabajo. Mucho menos de ir preso, como cualquiera de sus colegas cubanos. Ustedes son los periodistas mejor pagados del mundo, representando a los medios más poderosos del mundo – y se acobardan ante un presidente Castro, porque por más que ahora haya apertura entre estados Unidos y Cuba, este autócrata todavía puede decidir si ustedes serán parte de esta historia tan atractiva para el periodismo… Y esto, me da mucha pena decirlo, es suficiente para callar a todo el famoso press corps de la Casa Blanca.

¿O estaban ustedes esperando que Barack Obama sacara de la manga la lista de los presos políticos cubanos y se la diera a Castro?

"¿Cuáles presos políticos?"

“¿Cuáles presos políticos?”

Obama ha abierto una puerta, ¡enhorabuena!, pero de nada sirve si los periodistas no pasan por ella – y si no nosotros no nos quedamos parados en la puerta para que nadie la pueda volver a cerrar, y para que al final los cubanos pueden pasar por ella.

¿No se dan cuenta ustedes que en esta historia fascinante de la apertura entre Cuba y Estados Unidos nosotros, los periodistas y los medios, no solo somos observadores. Somos protagonistas, ocupando el espacio que se abre.

No nos hagan pasar vergüenza, colegas.

e2b99-firma-paolo

 

Acuerdos de EE.UU. y Cuba agravan crisis migratoria

La migración terrestre de cubanos hacía Estados Unidos y la negativa de Nicaragua de dejarlos pasar ha creado una crisis humanitaria. Se necesita un acuerdo entre todos los pases “de paso” y de Estados Unidos para resolverla. El gobierno de El Salvador no se ha pronunciado ni hecho propuestas constructivas, por lo menos no publicamente. Tampoco hemos escuchado un compromiso del presidente de El Salvador de dejar pasar y atender a los migrantes cubanos, en caso que Nicaragua los deje pasar.

Segunda Vuelta

El exilio cubano en Miami exige a Nicaragua que permita el paso a cerca de 2,000 cubanos que intentan llegar a territorio estadounidense. | Foto por Agencia EFE

El exilio cubano en Miami exige a Nicaragua que permita el paso a cerca de 2,000 cubanos que intentan llegar a territorio estadounidense. | Foto por Agencia EFE

23 noviembre 2015 / EDH

diario de hoyUna cadena de presiones, de acuerdos que no terminan de explicarse para evitar retratarse y en los que están involucrados Estados Unidos, Cuba y diversos países americanos, ha hecho estallar una bomba humanitaria en una de las fronteras de ese largo y tortuoso camino que emprenden por tierra miles de cubanos desde Ecuador a Estados Unidos: Nicaragua ha colocado a su ejército en la frontera con Costa Rica y ha repelido a casi 2,000 cubanos que se hacinan ahora, en malas condiciones humanitarias, en la parte costarricense.

Los balseros a pie, como los denominó  el periódico español El Mundo hace un mes y medio, son en este momento el gran reto migratorio del continente americano.

“El gobierno de Estados Unidos presiona a Cuba y a México para parar la avalancha de cubanos que entran en su país y los cubanos han recurrido a sus socios de Nicaragua para que les hagan el trabajo.

El conflicto territorial entre Costa Rica y Nicaragua por Isla Portillos, que parece próximo a resolverse, también tiene su peso”, explica a El Mundo Eduardo Matías, abogado cubano que se dedica a ayudar a los migrantes de su país que atraviesan México.

“Es de suprema importancia entender que este es un problema de personas que tienen ilusiones, necesidades, que buscan llegar a un destino donde quieren vivir mejor. Son personas que necesitan ser atendidas en su ansiedad y protegidas en su necesidad”, ha denunciado el presidente de Costa Rica, Luis Guillermo Solís.

“Más que cualquier consideración de orden geopolítico, hay una situación que se ha presentado con una decisión del gobierno de Nicaragua, que de manera absolutamente injustificada e irresponsable, ha acusado a Costa Rica de utilizar de alguna manera a estos inmigrantes para generar una violación”, ha remarcado Solís.

Con las fuerzas de seguridad
Nicaragua, por su parte, anunció que “con la finalidad de restablecer el orden y la tranquilidad ciudadana, fuerzas especiales de la policía nacional ejecutaron acciones operativas, teniendo como resultado que los inmigrantes cubanos fueron regresados a territorio costarricense de donde fueron lanzados”.

El Ejecutivo de Daniel Ortega denuncia también que los cubanos han causado “destrozos en sus instalaciones fronterizas”.

Cuba, mientras, se ha limitado a sacar un comunicado del régimen en el que mete el dedo en el ojo a su viejo enemigo norteamericano y le recuerda que la presión migratoria es culpa de Washington: “El Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores desea enfatizar que estos ciudadanos son víctimas de la politización del tema migratorio por parte del gobierno de los Estados Unidos, de la Ley de Ajuste Cubano y, en particular, de la aplicación de la llamada política de ‘pies secos-pies mojados’, la cual confiere a los cubanos un tratamiento diferenciado y único en todo el mundo, al admitirlos de forma inmediata y automática, sin importar las vías y medios que utilizan, incluso si llegan de manera ilegal a su territorio”.

Por último, el régimen cubano asegura que “el Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores ratifica que los ciudadanos cubanos que hayan salido legalmente del país y cumplan con la legislación migratoria vigente tienen derecho a retornar a Cuba, sí así lo desean”.

Solís ha reiterado que la crisis de emigrantes cubanos varados en suelo costarricense no debe ser mezclada con la geopolítica y, en ese sentido, espera que exista la voluntad internacional para solucionar el problema.

“Tengo la viva esperanza de que los cancilleres harán su mayor esfuerzo para garantizar que encontremos una solución humanitaria para estos migrantes”, declaró Solís

El mandatario se refirió así a la reunión extraordinaria que se llevará a cabo en El Salvador el próximo martes, entre los cancilleres de Centroamérica, ampliada a México, Cuba, Ecuador y Colombia.

“Hay que construir un espacio de tránsito para que el flujo de emigrantes cubanos puedan viajar con seguridad, documentados, en condiciones adecuadas, sin recurrir al crimen organizado”, manifestó.

“Para lograr esto se necesita la colaboración de todos los países desde Cuba hasta Estados Unidos (…) Si hubiera voluntad política habría posibilidad de éxito”, expresó.

Costa Rica ha habilitado siete albergues cerca de la frontera con Nicaragua, donde atiende a 1,300 cubanos, mientras otros 400 prefirieron quedarse en el puesto fronterizo de Peñas Blancas.

Pero la realidad es que todos los países involucrados parecen decir verdades a medias de un muy complicado tema migratorio que se está inflamando gravemente, sostiene El Mundo.

Y a continuación señala los puntos claves de este conflicto que pone en aprietos a miles de emigrantes cubanos.

El diario español menciona que Estados Unidos se ha encontrado con una avalancha de cubanos que llegan a su país ante el posible fin del conflicto diplomático entre ambos países.

Los cubanos, en caso de que se normalicen las relaciones, perderán los muy ventajosos privilegios que les otorga la Ley de Ajuste y sus cuantiosas ayudas económicas.

Los norteamericanos presionan a países como México para que les hagan el trabajo de detención de esta migración que ha provocado que cubanos de todo el continente emprendan la marcha a EE.UU. Pero también, asegura, cuestiona que otros no están interesados en parar la migración, por los beneficios que perciben de ese movimiento migratorio masivo.

Cuba podría parar esta migración presionando a Ecuador, su socio, para anular el tratado de libre visado para los naturales de la isla (único país con el que lo tiene). Sin embargo, el régimen castrista alivia presión demográfica y obtiene con la salida de miles de inmigrantes la llegada de divisas que mandan éstos a sus familias y que es esencial para la débil economía de la isla.

Un recorrido lleno de penurias
Miles de cubanos que hacen el viaje entre Ecuador y Estados Unidos sufren una serie de abusos por parte de mafias (los llamados coyotes) y de la corrupción policial. Se calcula que más de 100,000 cubanos han viajado hasta Ecuador para emprender ruta a Estados Unidos.

Y en ese camino se encuentran con que en los países por los que pasan se hacen de la gorda, miran a otro lado y les van concediendo salvoconductos de paso a cambio de mordidas y detenciones arbitrarias que casi nunca acaban con deportaciones, bien por falta de convenio con Cuba o bien porque el régimen cubano no solicita su extradición.

Países como México han visto cómo en Tapachula, en el estado de Chiapas, su frontera se ha saturado con la llegada de 60 cubanos cada día y han tenido que abrir sus centros de inmigración por estar saturados.

En este momento, la presión migratoria cubana es muy fuerte. Recientemente Cuba y México han firmado un acuerdo migratorio que no se ha hecho público y que parece que podría referirse a este grave problema. El gobierno de Estados Unidos hace una labor soterrada: Ejecutivo (Demócrata) y Legislativo (Republicano) ven de forma distinta el conflicto cubano aunque nadie lo habla abiertamente.

———-

Panorama incierto para los cubanos

El apoyo de EE.UU. y Cuba es clave para la solución a crisis en frontera de Costa Rica y Nicaragua.

Miembros de la policía impiden el paso de inmigrantes cubanos hacia Nicaragua. | Foto por Agencia EFE

Miembros de la policía impiden el paso de inmigrantes cubanos hacia Nicaragua. | Foto por Agencia EFE

23 noviembre 2015 / EDH

diario de hoyEstados Unidos y Cuba deben trabajar de conjunto para aliviar la crisis migratoria cubana que enfrenta a Costa Rica y Nicaragua, considera el presidente costarricense Luis Guillermo Solís.

Para el mandatario costarricense, tanto las autoridades del país de origen como las de la nación de destino deben ayudar a buscar una solución definitiva a los migrantes, según reportó el diario costarricense  La Nación.

El mandatario espera que la reunión de cancilleres del Sistema de la Integración Centroamericana (SICA), que tendrá lugar este martes 24 de noviembre en El Salvador, ayude a paliar el problema, con el compromiso de todas las naciones incluidas en la llamada “ruta cubana”.

La llegada de más de 2.500 cubanos a Centroamérica, en camino hacia territorio estadounidense, se ha convertido en un dilema regional debido a que el flujo de los caribeños no cesa.

Solís ha insistido en que las autoridades estadounidenses y cubanas se deben sentar con Ecuador, Colombia, Panamá, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, El Salvador, Honduras, Guatemala y México, en la próxima cita.

 El Gobierno costarricense llevará a la reunión la propuesta de crear un corredor humanitario libre de violaciones, robos y otras vejaciones que caracterizan al actual trayecto, plagado de peligros naturales y traficantes de personas.

“Hay que construir un espacio de tránsito para que el flujo de emigrantes cubanos puedan viajar con seguridad, documentados, en condiciones adecuadas, sin recurrir al crimen organizado”, enfatizó Solís. recalcó que “Si hubiera voluntad política habría posibilidad de éxito”.

Estados Unidos estará atenta a los resultados de la reunión extraordinaria de cancilleres del SICA sobre la emigración cubana, declaró la embajadora estadounidense en Nicaragua, Laura F. Dogu.

“Vamos a esperar para ver qué es lo que estará ocurriendo en esa reunión en San Salvador la semana que viene”, señaló la diplomática.

Pero Nicaragua tiene una lectura diferente. Según Daniel Ortega, Costa Rica se victimiza y se autoproclama como defensor de los derechos humanos.

Ante esto, Solís respondió que su país no se victimiza y tampoco “cambiará de política sobre la entrega de visas”.

“Este es un conflicto de orden humanitario, no geopolítico. Nuestros temas bilaterales (con Nicaragua) se están resolviendo donde se debe, en los tribunales internacionales de justicia. La población migrante no debe sufrir por los problemas entre ambos países”, añadió Solís.

A la reunión de los cancilleres asistiría la esposa de Ortega, Rosario Murillo. El Gobierno de Costa Rica espera que ella adopte una “posición solidaria” con la población migrante y que su país les permita el paso hacia el norte.

La crisis por el flujo de cubanos, con pasaporte pero sin visas, que cruzan del sur al norte de América se complicó el domingo, cuando tropas nicaragüenses atacaron con gases lacrimógenos en Peñas Blancas, puesto limítrofe entre Costa Rica y Nicaragua, a casi un millar de personas nacidas en la isla para impedirles ingresar a la nación vecina.

Costa Rica recibió a 12,166 cubanos de enero a septiembre del 2015, un promedio de casi 44 por día, y casi 2,000 la semana pasada, frente a 5,114 en el 2014, según cifras oficiales.

Silencios de Francisco. Editorial El País

El papa Francisco se despide del presidente de Cuba Raúl Castro en el aeropuerto Antonio Maceo, ayer en Santiago de Cuba. / ORLANDO BARRÍA (EFE)

El papa Francisco se despide del presidente de Cuba Raúl Castro en el aeropuerto Antonio Maceo, ayer en Santiago de Cuba. / ORLANDO BARRÍA (EFE)

Editorial El País, 23 sept. 2015 / EL PAIS

Por mucho que se insista a veces en lo contrario, la visita de un Papa a un país, salvo contadísimas excepciones, tiene un carácter mucho más político que religioso. Eso es lo que ha ocurrido con el viaje de Francisco a Cuba. Pero al contrario de lo sucedido con sus dos antecesores (Juan Pablo II en 1999 y Benedicto XVI en 2012), han sido más importantes las palabras que no se han pronunciado que las escuchadas de labios de Francisco.

La visita de un pontífice tan político a un régimen cuyo principal paso en política exterior (restablecer relaciones con EE UU) se ha dado con mediación de Roma había levantado grandes expectativas sobre lo que Francisco tenía que decir a los representantes del régimen castrista. Bergoglio, ya desde sus tiempos de cardenal, se ha forjado fama de hablar alto y claro a los representantes del poder. Pero lo más duro que el presidente cubano, Raúl Castro, ha escuchado en público de boca del Papa es reclamar una “revolución de la misericordia”, expresión probablemente importante en lo teológico, pero absolutamente inane en política. Tampoco ha habido gestos hacia la disidencia interna cubana que reclama la democratización del régimen. No es de extrañar: el mismo Francisco ha admitido que nunca pensó reunirse con ella. Aquí, el silencio público también constituye todo un mensaje.

Con todo, es necesario no perder la perspectiva. La solución de la situación en Cuba no gira en torno a lo que un Papa diga o deje de decir. Los gestos son importantes y este era un viaje muy delicado que había creado unas expectativas de las que tal vez en ningún caso Francisco saldría bien parado. Sin embargo, no hay que olvidar que quien debe moverse es el régimen cubano, que no puede escudarse en la reapertura de embajadas con Washington o en una milimetrada visita de un jefe de la Iglesia católica para mantenerse inmóvil.

Los Castro no pueden decidir que ambos eventos no tienen nada que ver con la necesaria e ineludible democratización que ha de llegar a Cuba. Lo importante no es lo que haga el Papa, sino que el régimen cubano facilite la llegada de la democracia. Y el tiempo dirá si esta visita de Francisco ha supuesto o no una oportunidad perdida.