Yes You Can / Somos+

Somos+, Ezequiel Alvarez, 18 March 2016 — The struggle of an unarmed people, under a totalitarian dictatorship armed to the teeth, becomes a psychological battle of attrition. Since it is impossible to change a powerful system by a frontal attack, other tactics must be used.

The first step is the formation of a resistance capable of promoting changes, gaining the confidence of the people by offering them an alternative means of fighting.

Demonstrating with concrete actions that they can fight, seeking the formula that proves the existence of a resistance, able to fight and survive despite oppression, persecution, and all the system’s attempts to extinguish the anti-dictatorship spotlight. A resistance composed of patriotic believers in the cause who are willing, despite the obstacles, to put themselves forward at the historic moment for the common good of the nation. continue reading

The next and vital stage is the demoralization of the oppressive forces of the dictatorship: a dictatorship whose participants recognize that they are part of a corrupt system, and that they are fighting against the well-being of the people, can lose interest in participating and supporting the dictatorship in power.

So when the forces loyal to the dictatorship refuse to be part of the oppressive system, then the dictators lose power—against forces, which though lacking tactical capabilities have the moral strength, support, and sympathy of the people. The psychological structure that maintained the continuity of the dictatorship in power crumbles, and new alliances and loyalties forge the new power structure.

Assuring ourselves that a structural basis exists for the implementation of a democratic system, which resolves the problems and addresses the concerns of our people for freedom and progress, must be the work of the democratic resistance in order to advance the country to a better future.

Translated by Tomás A.

State Institutions Aren’t Owned by the People but by a Small Group / Somos+

Somos+, Ricardo Romulo, 25 February 2016 — I take a daily stroll through the streets of Old Havana and Central Havana, both so flooded with tourists and Cubans that it seems as if the city might sink beneath my feet at any moment, so poor is the quality of the construction work going on everywhere and so long are the delays in completing it.

I see buildings with propped-up balconies on the verge of collapse, a huge line of tourists in front of the ETECSA telecommunications office and the CADECA currency exchange office between Obispo and Compostela streets. I catch the stench of the streams of sewage that run through the streets. The chaos doesn’t just result from ongoing electrical and telecommunications installations. All of it, taken together, makes it seem as if we’re in the middle of a civil war. continue reading

ETECSA and the Banco Metropolitano, businesses that serve both Cubans and foreign visitors, seem desperate to please the frustrated customers who wait hours to exchange a few euros or buy an internet card. And the cards are never available at any ETECSA office because they’ve all been sold on the black market at the price of three convertible pesos (dollars) an hour for internet service. That’s how the ETECSA salespeople make their living.
Likewise, only two currency exchange offices and three banks are available to serve the throngs of tourists in Old Havana.

Meanwhile, any Cuban who wants to use the “Nauta” email service on his or her cell phone can only do so at the Focsa Building in Vedado; none of the other ETECSA offices provide that service. ETECSA’s servers would crash if millions of Cubans were using Nauta to communicate with family and friends outside the country. And once you’ve managed to install Nauta on your cell phone you have to make three or four attempts before any connection goes through, and your account is charged while you’re struggling.

Text messages arrive up to three hours late, though a delivery confirmation was sent right away. When you call Customer Service, they say everything is fine and there’s no problem.
The ETECSA operators insist on maintaining this appearance of efficiency in their service to the national and international community in order to convey this message: “Other telecommunications companies are not needed in our country. Everything is fine. ”
Do they want to be the only company so they can keep track of what people are saying in Cuba? So they can keep tabs on those who think differently about changing the country’s political economy?

I have friends from around the world: Argentina, Italy, Canada, the United States, and France. I met many of them in the streets, during my daily stroll. I never miss the opportunity to invite them to ride a local bus so they can experience the everyday life of Cuban workers, who don’t know where their uncertain future is headed.

Everything lies in the hands of the lethargic administration that controls the Cuban government and strives only to defend its own interests and preserve the order that was imposed half a century ago. This administration is intent on controlling the lives of twelve million Cubans, including seven or eight million of us who have worked all those years in the aviation, construction, and oil industries. And yet we have nothing.

We have experienced firsthand the absence of labor movements or of any political party that truly represents and defends the interests of the working masses and of the nation. The Cuban administration has worked only to maintain and preserve the interests of state-owned companies that represent the power of the current government, which does nothing to improve the lives of Cubans but only offers pretexts for maintaining total control over the masses.

The current government opposes making the Internet fully available to the entire country. It opposes the existence of other political parties, and other, better, telecommunications companies. Free elections are not allowed, and neither are peaceful protests by Cuban citizens. No other transportation companies are accepted. Though they don’t openly object to it, the government doesn’t want business owners to hire their workforce directly and thus be in direct contact with those who are demanding better salaries.

That way the government can control the people, hold them subject to its will and keep pretending that we, the citizens, have the power. But they’re the ones who have it, and they use it to maintain a political apparatus that is alien to the life of a real Cuban citizen.

My friends from around the world, I want you all to know that the Cuban people want to get rid of this political apparatus that rules over our will. All it has done is support and enrich itself at the expense of ordinary citizens’ sacrifices and hard work. And all we want is for our voices to circulate, without barriers, to all countries in every continent, so that together we can achieve a better world for everyone.

Translated by Jessica Aucaguizhpi, Valerie Alvarez, Jeniffer Hernandez, Paola Moran, Jeanette Neto and Yolainny Reyes

The Monopoly on Political Truth in Cuba / Somos+

Somos+, Evangelical Pastor Raúl Macías López, M.D., 23 February 2016 —  Across the broad spectrum of Cuban reality, certain aspects stand out quite markedly. All around us we see contrasts and inequalities that give rise to fear over what the future holds in store and civic immobility in the present, with a tendency toward indifference (on the part of the people) and seizure of the truth (by the government). The combination of those factors keeps the radically transformative changes the country needs from taking place.

The prevailing single-party ideology has tried to monopolize political truth for the nearly fifty-eight years of its “irreversible”* existence. I want to emphasize “has tried” because, fortunately, in Cuba today there are as many ways of thinking as there are people who think. The voices of more and more citizens are raised to express an unstoppable and absolutely necessary diversity of opinions. This is clearly inevitable. continue reading

The philosophy of “here we all think alike” almost succeeded in banishing the resounding truth that “it is utopian to pretend everyone thinks alike,” in its attempt to enshrine a lie that was believed as if it were true. In reality, to really understand each other, we cannot separate this fatal pair: monopoly – single-party regime.

For far too long, power has basically been in the hands of the same people and families, and has been used only as a means of enforcing their illegitimate control. The Castro top management (the term I find the most polite) controls the media in the name of socialism and uses that control to disseminate its own “truths,” all of them aimed at maintaining a monolithic economic, political and social order that is unjust because it damages the nation through its now questionable irreversibility.

And that “injustice” —since I’ve mentioned the word— also has to do with the fact that behind the scenes almost everyone questions the official discourse. But interestingly, most Cubans have chosen to devote themselves to their domestic concerns, be it cuentapropismo (self-employment), professional aspirations, or religious beliefs, in order to distance themselves as far as possible, etc… And meanwhile we all just let “them” take care of the nation’s political future.

Therefore if we want to appeal to justice, we have to admit that we ourselves have contributed to the current situation by putting the rope around our own neck (or allowing it to be put there), thereby unwittingly collaborating in the monolithic single-party system’s monopoly on truth. We’ve readily accepted our defeat, without even needing to be convinced or seduced beforehand, without demanding that reasons for it be given. If someone says such and such thing, the rest of us blindly, unanimously, and dogmatically accept it as the truest truth ever spoken.

It is as if the ability to ask questions had been excised by a collective scalpel, by a kind of intellectual surgery, with the aggravating factor that the scalpel was in the wrong hands. When were we mutilated? When was our crucial need to engage in fair, open argument and debate whenever and with whomever necessary taken from us?

The single-party government’s monopoly on truth has this distinctive feature: it appeals neither to people’s intelligence nor to their ability to take the initiative. Instead the authorities veto individual liberty and subliminally control people’s ability to decide for themselves. As if they were robots, people are forced to make decisions that favor the authorities’ interests.

For how much longer are we going to remain in this limbo, trapped in other peoples’ schemes? What more will it take before we wake up and begin to march forward as a nation? By what right do a few people claim to be the only ones free to decide what is true and what isn’t?

Cubans: let’s defend our truths with respect, but let’s defend them! It’s not fair for anyone to monopolize the truth.

Collective truth is made up of the greatest number of individual truths. Let’s embrace inclusivity.

“To hide the truth is a crime; to hide part of the truth—the part that compels and encourages us—is a crime; to hide what is not in an adversary’s interests, and say only what is, is a crime” —Martí, Obras completas, Vol. 1, p. 291.

The greatest human who ever walked the earth said: “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free” —John 8:32.

*Translator’s note: In response calls for democratic reforms and human rights in Cuba, the regime modified the constitution to make the current system “irreversible.”

Translated by Steven Aguirre, Diego Alvarado, Yulieth Galindo, Jemilcia Garcia, Iuliana Mazheika, Carlos Mojica, Clarissa Polanco, Gabriela Ramirez

 

Me and the Man with the Almond-Shaped Eyes / Somos+, Niurvys Roca

Somos+,Niurvys Roca, 22 February 2016 — Why is it that in Cuba we have elections in the schools, but there are no mechanisms for choosing the officials who represent our country? This is where my suspicion that we’ve accepted a great hypocrisy began. We’re taught from grade school to elect representatives who organize things and see to our needs, but then that doesn’t exist in the lives of Cuban citizens. Yet there once was a time when I believed school was training us to be decent people; I thought everything we learned there would also apply to everyday life later on.

It was the beginning of the school year and the School of the Arts was holding its annual election for the High School Students Association (Federación Estudiantil de la Enseñanza Media or FEEM). The elected student leaders would see to it that everything worked properly, would defend their fellow students’ rights, and would present their classmates’ most pressing needs to the folkloric personages whose job it was to see to those needs and offer solutions to problems. continue reading

We loved those election days. Everyone voted in secret, then students and professors gathered to learn the results. That year was different; my name was being whispered through the halls, and I was elected to represent the students. At first, I was none too happy about it. I thought I should be focusing on my studies; serving in student government would take a lot of time. Later, I realized I could do a lot to help my classmates and decided to take on the responsibility.

It all started off nicely. Among other things, we suggested reforms in areas we didn’t think were working very well. We also proposed ways of listening to students on a more personal level, and means of providing tutors for students who needed remedial training, as well as more hands-on attention for scholarship recipients.

That semester I had to work triple-time. In the morning, I had courses in my specialization, in the afternoon I had other courses, and there were almost always meetings, as well. These were held far from school, which affected the time I could spend in class. I remember getting home after 10 p.m. just to wake up at 4 a.m. the next morning because the P1 bus usually didn’t stop to pick up passengers at my stop. It was exhausting, but always worthwhile.

About halfway through my term as president, a shocking discovery was made: I was not a member of the Communist Youth League! That was when a man — I remember him: tall and dark-haired, with almond-shaped eyes — began coming to see me. Initially, his tone was friendly and concerned, but it quickly grew severe and even threatening. Sometimes I was pulled out of class in order to speak to him. I couldn’t understand how he could be more important than my classes, especially since he always said the same thing.

His concern was that I should become a militant in the Communist Youth League. I gave him the same answer over and over: “My mother lives in a so-called enemy country, and I need what she sends me for food and clothing. I don’t think anyone should be a militant in the Youth League without being a Communist. A good Communist proclaims equality without hypocrisy. To be a Communist, I must eat only what the Revolution provides, and I don’t know how other people do that but I can’t. Maybe I’ll have enough to live on when I start working, and then I’ll think about joining the League. Right now, I have to live up to my ideals, and refrain from proclaiming that everyone is equal, or else live by a double standard in order to appear equal to everyone else and comply with the norm.” I would end up adopting the kind of fake commercial smile that my boyfriend hates, which I put on when I dislike someone but have to get along with them just a few minutes longer.

The man harassed me for weeks. He even forced me to go to meetings where I remember expressing my dissent; my being there didn’t resolve anything. They talked about people in derogatory terms and I was constantly being pressured to join the Youth League even though I’d said again and again that it wouldn’t be possible. It was a tough time, but luckily I knew a million ways of evading the man without him spotting me. My friends, as a joke on him, would tell me when he was hot on my trail, and I managed to avoid 95% of his visits. His ultimatum was that I couldn’t be a student leader because I didn’t have a Communist Youth League ID card, to which I replied calmly, while at the same time letting him know he couldn’t play that game with me, “That’s not for you to decide. It’s for the people I represent to decide.”

I stayed on as president. The man, who couldn’t intimidate me — I only felt sorry for him — never shook any of my convictions: I know reality was not on his side. It was a truly enjoyable phase of my life; studying, writing essays, working on projects with amazing people who were focused on serious plans for their lives, and some teachers I will never forget.  What I’m saying is that the weak minds that threaten us are just that: weak minds, other people’s victims. A man like that was no match for a 17-year-old girl.

I did things right. I wasn’t afraid to express my ideas. I knew the students were on my side because they saw me working hard for them. If we all achieve inner freedom, I am certain that all the tall men with dark hair and almond-shaped eyes will lose their power. No more excuses. Our first step is to gain inner freedom and practice change. If a 17-year-old girl can do it, so can you. Let’s begin by respecting what our hearts dictate, not our material needs, and confronting all challenges directly. There is nothing more beautiful in this short life than to be free within ourselves. If we desire a free nation, then let’s start acting like free men and women. If this idea catches on among eleven million Cubans, Cuba will be ours again.

Translated by Anabel Acevedo, Karina Aguaiza, Nicole Cantos, Kimberly Espinoza, Diego Maya, Ariel Pabon, and Sandy Sosa

Havana, Waiting for Obama… and The Beast / Iván García

Source: Iván García
Waiting for Obama… and The Beast. Source: Motorbit

Iván García, 10 March 2016 — It does not take a Secret Service expert to determine, by the rush of the building work, the sites which Barack Obama is predicted to pass by or stop at during his two days in Havana.

If Air Force One touches down at Terminal 3 of the José Martí International Airport, the presidential Cadillac would travel via the East-West Highway to link up with 25th Avenue and on to the residence of charge d’affaires, Jeffrey De Laurentis, in El Laguito, where, it is assumed, the Obamas will spend their only night in Havana.

Terminal 2, the closest thing to a train station, and where US flights are received, was ruled out for the president and his entourage, according to an official of the place. continue reading

The other point of arrival may be the Terminal 1. If so, then it is expected that the government of Raul Castro has prepared a popular welcome for the US leader.

The Castro brothers have a doctorate in multitudinous greetings for how high-ranking personalities that arrive to Havana are received. From Leonid Brezhnev to Pope Francis, the creole autocracy usually puts together huge receptions. When this happens, the capital is paralyzed for the day.

Urban transport is disrupted and thousands of workers and students are moved to different points where the procession will pass. There will be no end of paper banners and flags made in the Frederick Engels print works of the Communist Party, nor slogans and chants for the occasion.

However this time, a considerable segment of Havanans and residents of the western provinces would go spontaneously. Out of curiosity and a friendliness towards Obama. The fabled average Cuban would have a golden opportunity to record with their cell phones the passage of The Beast along Rancho Boyeros Avenue.

There are still two weeks before Obama arrives and already the rumours have started. “They say where The Beast passes the wi-fi and mobile phone sigals are disconnected for a hundred meters around,” says an engineer in telecommunications.

Not even Fidel Castro, with his impressive personal security entourage, comes near the deployment of men and technologies that is triggered by the movement of a US president.

Some people already say that they have seen, walking in the streets of Havana, overly burly, serious looking characters, scrutinising everything, and trying to pass as tourists.

“Police look the same in Cuba or Timbuktu. On Friday I saw two big men who looked like rugby players around the University of Havana. Their square jaws and military haircuts did not fool anyone. They were Obama’s secret service, “said Eugenio, a private taxi driver.

Inside the university the bustle of workers renovating the old institution was observed. “It is said that Obama will give a lecture at the Aula Magna,” said a teacher in a low voice.

True or not, San Lazaro Street, which flows up to the university steps, was re-surfaced and the road markings were painted with white lime.

In the old Estadio del Cerro a swarm of workers and funcionaries work without rest. On the field they replaced the grass and the clay was raised. The bleachers were painted deep blue and television broadcast cubicles were renovated.

“It’s amazing the things that happen in this country. Since 2009, work has been going on at the stadium, at a snail’s pace, and according to the schedule it was expected to conclude in 2020 as the authorities said there was no funding. But as soon as it was known that Obama would come to see Tampa Bay play against the Cuban team, the money appeared right away, “says a worker.

Dilapidated housing in the neighborhood of Carraguao, adjacent to El Latino, as Estadio del Cerro is known today, received a coat of paint and the inner streets were repaired. All of 20th of May Avenue is being revamped.

“Apparently ’the man’ will enter the Latino by this avenue. It makes sense, it is a wide street and in fairly good condition which leads directly to Paseo Street and the Palace of the Revolution. And the buildings and houses of this area are the best preserved. If he entered by Calzada del Cerro or Infanta, Obama would be frightened with dirt and destruction, “said Orlando, local resident.

Nilda, an employee of ETECSA, says her company will enable 300 telephone lines in El Latino. “And a wifi area as well. Things happen. If anyone requests a phone transfer you tell them that there are no lines. But for these things, resources appear immediately. Two months ago 50 lines went to the area of Laguito, where Vice President Miguel Diaz-Canel lives.

Several areas of El Vedado, Miramar and Havana Vieja preen for the visit of Barack Obama. Also, a fleet of ’almendrones’ or old american cars are ready if the head of the White House wanted to tour the city in a convertible.

US officials, visiting Havana, like to ride in vintage cars dressed in crisp white guayaberas, take selfies in front of novel buildings and drink mojitos in El Floridita, Hemingway’s favorite bar. We’ll see if Obama skips the protocol.

Translated by: Araby

Laura Pollán Ladies in White Civic Movement Letter to President Obama

Laura Labrada Pollán, Laura Pollán's daughter
Laura Labrada Pollán, Laura Pollán’s daughter

10 March 2016

His Excellency Mr. Barack Obama
President of the United States of America

I extend to you the most cordial welcome to our country and wish you a happy stay in this land, which you can now feel as your own.

Cuba and the United States of America share a long history of friendship which has not been erased throughout more than 57 years of dictatorship in my country. It is time now that our citizens to meet at the middle of the bridge, and what they feel cannot be separated by any government or group. continue reading

We, as members of the Laura Pollán Ladies in White Civic Movement, an NGO dedicated to the liberation of political prisoners and aid to our people in general, thank you for the courage you have shown in changing an approach that has not been effective for more than five decades in transforming the current state of affairs in my country. The dictatorship gains strength from confrontation, and not from negotiation and compromise.

Our nation needs a change. Civil society has been growing, stimulated by so many decades of hardships and attempts to destroy it. You can do much for our people. Empowering our population is among the first steps to achieve several of our objectives: freedom of expression, of the press, a multi-party system, and a dignified future for our children.

We know that it is still too soon to appreciate the results of these policy changes, but we are confident that subsequent US administrations will know how to build upon this first rock that you bravely dedicated to the liberty of our people. Cuba is grateful for it, and needs it.

We believe in your sincerity when you say that your efforts are to empower our civil society and not to support a government that has visited great afflictions on its populace. The politics of compromise is vital to achieve peaceful and lasting changes, as you said on 17 December 2014. Perhaps you have been able, as none of your predecessors, to convince the Cuban government that it is time for a change.

My mother, Laura Pollán, who died under circumstances that lead to suspicions she was assassinated, was always very clear about the role her government, as well as others of the free world, would play in the changes that necessarily needed to come. For her labor in defense of the rights of Cubans and the promotion of democracy, she was honored, during your administration, by the National Endowment for Democracy.

We hope that during this very short visit you will plan on the possibility of hearing from the lips of our people and our civil society the reality that we live in Cuba. We would like for you to meet with us as part of that opposition with which you said you would consult during your visit. From our women you will hear firsthand all that is happening in our nation, and the sentiments of the Cuban woman who, like Michelle, love freedom.

When you depart from our country on 22 March, I assure you that you will carry Cuba in your heart, and you will hold in your hand one of your greatest achievements.

You will know how to represent the free world, and you will be the voice for those of us who cannot speak.

Laura María Labrada Pollán
Laura Pollán Ladies in White Civic Movement

Source: Along the Malecon (Tracey Eaton)

Translated by: Alicia Barraqué Ellison

‘Moviecide’ in Havana

Edison Movie House, converted to apartments and now in danger of collapse. (14ymedio)
Edison Movie House, converted to apartments and now in danger of collapse. (14ymedio)

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Miriam Celaya, Havana, 11 March 2016 — In its primetime broadcast on Tuesday, The Cuban Television National News (NTV) released a report by journalist Milenys Torres about what were once called “neighborhood theaters,” most of which are entirely shut down or intended for other “social functions.”

With that deviousness that characterizes official journalism and allows reporters to skirt the periphery of the information without committing to the causes or the solutions, Torres briefly interviewed several locals and showed pictures of some of the theaters that once proliferated in the Cuban capital. Since the latter part of the 20th century, they have been closed and have been turning into unsanitary landfills that are infecting neighborhoods and creating sources for disease. continue reading

Rats, cockroaches and other vermin swarm among sewage leaks and all kinds of filth in places where we Havana citizens used to enjoy an occasional movie, a wholesome entertainment that was cheap and accessible in our own neighborhoods.

No movie theatre management, regardless of the causes, was able to decide, unilaterally and without consultation, on closing down the theaters and throwing away the key

During the Republican era, the great American influence made us avid movie buffs, and we were used to “keeping up” with all film production, not only from Hollywood, but also from Europe and Latin America. From then until the 1980s, the general public in Cuba had the same access to a first-run American movie, a Mexican drama or a French comedy, while the most demanding would enjoy New Wave, Swedish or German movies, among other treats. Of course, Soviet and other Eastern European cinematography also had its glory days in Havana movie theatres.

Although many times, and over a long period, the independent press has dealt very critically with the issue of vanishing Havana movie houses, the recent NTV report tries to present it as a priority of the official press and as if the event had taken place only yesterday and not three decades ago.

Milenys Torres introduces the news almost candidly from the landfill that the old Duplex and Rex Cinemas have become, in the midst of a boulevard in Centro Habana, using an ambiguous phrase that diffuses responsibility in a vacuum: “It is said that it all began when the air conditioning broke down and the movie house was closed.”

But it so happens that all Cuban movie houses have been state-owned since the Revolutionary government nationalized them, also monopolizing film production. No movie theatre management, regardless of the causes, was able to decide unilaterally and without consultation, on closing down the theaters and throwing away the key. Neither should the responsibility be shunned by the Comunales (the local People’s Power organizations), municipal political management entities, and instances of Public Health – all of them State-run institutions – for the loss of those cultural places and the steady accumulation of all kinds of refuse that affect not only the physical aspect but the health of such a densely populated environment.

Making an incomplete list of some neighborhood movie theaters that have been closed, just in the municipalities of Habana Vieja and Centro Habana, the list speaks volumes.

Spirituality and culture did not put food on the tables of a population uniformed in poverty

Besides the movie theatres mentioned above, the following movie theatres no longer exist in Centro Habana: The Majestic and The Verdún (Consulado Street), and The Neptune and Rialto cinemas (street of the same name), The Caprí – later renamed Mégano – and the The Campoamor (corner of Industria and San José, the last one in ruins). The Cuba and The Reina (Reina Street), this last one being used by a dance group, The Jigüe and The América (Galiano Street), currently used for musical shows, The Pionero (San Lázaro Street), The Findlay (Zanja Street), and The Favorito, the current headquarters for another dance group.

The moviecide is repeated In Old Havana, although this municipality never had the large number of theatres that Centro Habana had. Movie houses Guise, Negrete and Fausto (Prado Street) disappeared, as did The Ideal (Compostela Street). The Actualidades (Monserrate Street) remains in operation, but is markedly deteriorated, while The Universal (Bernaza Street) is a ruin converted into a parking lot, and The Habana (Mercaderes Street, Plaza Vieja) was rescued and converted into a Planetarium by intervention of the Office of the City Historian.

While new technologies have brought to households the opportunity to enjoy movies at home, in the rest of the world they have contributed to the closure of old, big theaters which have been transformed into smaller spaces to accommodate fewer spectators. The initial causes of the closure of Cuban cinemas run counter to technological developments, although multiplying the offerings.

The deep unprecedented economic crisis that followed the collapse of socialism and the sharp drop to a situation of survival took precedence over cultural and recreational matters. All of Cuba, and especially the capital, were overwhelmed by emergencies such as food, health and material shortages of all kinds. Spirituality and culture did not put food on the tables of a population uniformed in poverty.

On the other hand, political power began to be questioned in homes and even in public spaces, whether in a covert way, as in the isolated outbreaks of public discontent. Many of these outbreaks occurred precisely in cultural places. On one occasion, when images of Fidel Castro appeared in newsreels, viewers broke out chanting a popular hit song – just released in a Cuban rock-opera – whose lyrics repeated in crescendo “That man is crrrazzzy!” The movie house ended up being emptied by police, though there were no arrests, and no subsequent showings of the newsreel were aired.

The theaters were centers of potential disorder and anti-government political expressions

The authorities thus found out that movie theatres – being public places, where the public congregated and were protected by the anonymity of darkness – were potential centers for disorder and anti-government political expressions, which could easily get out of official control, so they stationed plain-clothes State Security and uniformed police agents in all movie houses.

Deliberately, as the cinemas were deteriorating, they were closed “for repairs” that never took place, until the theatres were sacrificed on the altar of ideology.

Years later, when a handful of private entrepreneurs started up small theaters, they were quickly forced to shut down by the authorities. The State was not able to meet the demands of Cuban moviegoers, but it would not allow public movie transmission out of its exclusive control: nothing could escape the Revolution’s rigid sieve of cultural policy arranged in 1961 by its supreme leader.

Currently, a few State projection rooms have been renovated and adapted to new trends. These are, for example, The Multicine Infanta in Centro Habana; or The Fresa y Chocolate Theatre in the heart of El Vedado. Yet the feverish movie-goer activity that developed in the shadow of the lavish theaters of Havana seems to have disappeared forever. Only, unlike countries where new technologies have brought the glamour of movie viewing to domestic spaces, Miledys Torres’ report is hypocritical and inopportune, when she questions the calamitous state of this or that movie house.

The official journalist seems to be asking naively: “Who shut down the movie houses?” She might find the answer parodying playwright Lope de Vega, but inversely. Because, in this Cuban movie-buff drama we are not only before the consecration of abuse of power, but the culprit was not Fuenteovejuna*, but precisely the Commendador.

*Translator’s note:Fuenteovejuna is a Lope de Vega 1614 comedy of the genre “Comendador” depicting conflict between villains and noblemen, abuse of power and finger-pointing.

Translated by Norma Whiting

The New York Times, a Branch of Granma / Cubanet, Miriam Celaya

Headquarters of The New York Times (Photo: wikipedia.org)
Headquarters of The New York Times (Photo: wikipedia.org)

cubanet square logoCubanet, Miriam Celaya, Havana, 9 March 2016 – The New York Times (NYT) has just dedicated a new editorial to Cuba. Or, to be more accurate, the article, signed by Colombian Ernesto Londoño, makes a whole accolade about what he — and perhaps the executives of that influential newspaper — depict as the beginning of a process of freedom of expression on the island.

And the unusual miracle of opening up which was announced triumphantly has been taking place just “since the United States began to normalize relations with Havana in late 2014.” So, magically, by the grace of Barack Obama’s new policy, “Cubans have begun to debate subjects that were once taboo, and to criticize their government more boldly.” (Oh, thank you, Barack. Cubans, always so incompetent, will be forever grateful to you!). continue reading

Unfortunately, such sublime journalistic purpose is truncated because of the obtuse ignorance editorialists and publishers have about Cuban history and reality. In fact, from his first paragraph, Londoño’s forced rhyme to “illustrate” Cuban advances in matters of freedom of expression could not have been any more unfortunate: “In the past, when a Cuban athlete disappeared during a sporting event abroad, there was no official acknowledgement or any mention of it in the State media.”

Then he refers to the recent extent of athletes defecting, starring with brothers Yulieski and Lourdes Gourriel — two young baseball stars who escaped the Cuban delegation during its stay in the Dominican Republic — as “an episode that illustrates how citizens in the most repressive country in the hemisphere are increasingly pushing the limits of freedom of expression”.

This New York Times apprentice is either misinformed or totally clueless, because all Cubans on the island, especially those of us born soon after that sadly memorable 1st of January 1959, are aware of the numerous official statements of the National Institute of Sports, Physical Education and Recreation (INDER), a repudiation of what the Cuban government qualifies as defection of athletes who sell themselves to the powers of capital. Who in Cuba does not remember the deep voice and the indignation of the newspaper commentator and sports broadcaster, Héctor Rodríguez, now dead, reading passionately those intense pamphlets against the traitors?

Such official statements have certainly not been released each time a desertion has occurred, but definitely every time they have turned out to be extremely outrageous and blatant, as with the recent case of the Gourriel brothers.

Another noteworthy aspect is the NYT’s overvaluing of the role of the U.S. government “to reduce the culture of fear and the obedience that the State has long-used to control its citizens,” which has resulted in, “Today, a wider section of Cuban society is speaking with less fear.” It would seem that the efforts of opponents, dissidents, independent journalists and other civil society organizations, as well as the natural wear and tear of a whole society subjected to decades of deprivation and deceit by a ruling elite, has achieved absolutely nothing.

Of course, nobody with a modicum of common sense would deny the influence any political change of a U.S. administration has on Cuba, especially when all of the Cuban dictatorship’s foreign (and domestic) policies have based their central axis on its dispute with the U.S. Personally, I am among those opponents who support a policy of dialogue and reconciliation, since the conflict of over half a century did not produce any results, and it is still too early for the Obama policy towards Cuba to be classified as a “failure.” In political matters, every process needs a time period to reach fruition, and we should not expect major changes in just 14 months of dialogue between parties to a half a century of conflict.

However, to grant the new position of the White House the ability to open democratic spaces of expression within Cuba in that short period of time is wrong, irrational, and even disrespectful. Not only because it distorts reality and deceives the American public, but because it deliberately fails to acknowledge the work of many independent journalists who have pushed the wall of silence that has surrounded the island for decades, reporting on the Cuban reality, and who have suffered persecution, imprisonment and constant harassment for their actions, by the repressive forces of the regime.

Nevertheless, the real latent danger in the biased NYT editorial is its presenting as champions of freedom of expression those who are useful tools of the regime in its present unequivocal process of mimicry: the pro-government bloggers, a group that emerged in the shadow of official policy as a government strategy to counter the virulent explosion of independent bloggers that began in 2007 and that two years later had grouped in the Voces Cubanas blogger platform, the access to which from Cuba was immediately blocked by the government.

Blogger Harold Cárdenas, who is Mr. Londoño’s chosen example of a critic of the Castro autocracy, is actually what could be defined as a “Taliban-light,” equivalent to a believer convinced of the superiority of the Cuban system, disguised as a critic. If the Castro dictatorship has any talent, it is the ability to adapt to each new circumstance and survive any political upheaval, a quality that allows it to manipulate the discourse and elect its “judges” at each new turn.

In the present circumstances of non-confrontation with the Empire, Hassan Pérez, an angry and hysterical beefeater, now disappeared from the scene, would be out of the question. Instead, someone like Harold Cárdenas is ideal: he is reasonably disapproving, moves within government institutions (so he’s controllable) and knows exactly where the line that cannot be crossed is. Additionally, sensible Harold remains safely distant from all the independent press, and he uses the same epithets to refer to it as does the government: “mercenaries at the service of imperialism,” or “CIA agents.”

Another dangerous illusion is the alleged existence of a “progressive wing” within the spheres of power in Cuba, to which — according to what Londoño stated in the NYT — Harold Cárdenas is closely related. On this point, the utter lack of journalistic seriousness of the NYT is scandalous. The myth of a “progressive” sector as a kind of conspirators — which is actually a host of opportunistic individuals — close to the tower of power, waiting for the chance to influence changes in Cuba, has been spreading in the media outside the island for a long time, but, so far, this is mere speculation that has no basis whatsoever.

In addition, it is unacceptable to limit the hopes of a better future for Cubans from the inferred recognition of those who are the currently close supporters of the regime. No change in Cuba will be genuine unless it includes as actors, in all its representation and variety, the independent civil society and all Cubans on the island and the diaspora. Nor will there be true freedom of the press as long as the dictatorship is allowed to select its “critics” while it punishes independent thinking of any fashion.

As for the imaginary meetings at all the universities in the country to discuss the political future of Cuba, this is the most fallacious thing that could have occurred to Mr. Londoño, and it exposes a huge flaw in the credibility of the NYT. Could anyone seriously believe that the Cuban dictatorship would allow questioning of the regime within its own institutions? Could it be perhaps that Londoño and the NYT managers have shattered in one fell swoop the Castro principle that “universities are for revolutionaries”?

But none of this is really a surprise. The prelude started in October, 2014, when an avalanche of NYT editorials was written by Ernesto Londoño, noting that it was time to change U.S. policy towards Cuba, an idea I share in principle, but for very different reasons and arguments as those the NYT advocates. Two months later, the restoration of relations would be announced.

By then, Londoño and his employers didn’t remotely have a clue of the Cuban reality; neither do they have any now. But what has become a conspiracy against the rights of Cubans cannot be construed as naive or as good intentions gone astray. Perhaps it is time that this Latin American, whose will has been tamed so appropriately to the old northern colonial mentality, that which considers the people of the subcontinent incapable of self-achievement, should write about the serious conflicts of his own country of origin — which, paradoxically, are being decided in Cuba today — if he at least knows more about Colombian reality than Cuban.

Meanwhile, it appears that the peddlers of Cuban politics have managed to weave much stronger ties with the NYT than we imagined. No wonder NYT editorials seem to have turned that newspaper into the New York branch of Cuba’s State and Communist Party newspaper, Granma.

Translated by Norma Whiting

21st Century Socialism: Rest in Peace? / Cubanet, Miriam Celaya

Raul Castro, Nicolas Maduro, evo Morales, Rafael Correa, Daniel Ortega (clockwise from upper left)
Raul Castro, Nicolas Maduro, Evo Morales, Rafael Correa, Daniel Ortega (clockwise from upper left)

cubanet square logoCubanet, Miriam Celaya, Havana, 25 February 2106 — The crisis of the ghostly 21st Century Latin American socialism has been demonstrated once again with the negative outcome of the referendum on the reform of Bolivia’s constitution that sought to legitimize the candidature of Evo Morales in the 2019 elections. The controversial petty king aspired to remain screwed to the presidential armchair at least until 2025… but most of his countrymen, including native ethnic groups, have given him the brush-off.

So far, and despite the maneuvers that — according to what opposition sectors of the Andean country claim — the Morales government is taking advantage of to reverse its resounding defeat, everything indicates that the NO vote is irreversible.

Within a few months, the decline of the leftist leadership — which started in Argentina with the fall of Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner in the presidential elections, followed by the loss of Chavismo in last December’s parliamentary elections in Venezuela and now with the refusal to allow Evo to hijack power in Bolivia continue reading

— shows plainly that the lifetime aspirations of the leaders of XXI century socialism are being left in the lurch.

With this new knockout to the Hemisphere’s progressive leaderships, it has been demonstrated that, in actuality, populism movements with Castro-Chávez-Marxist leanings are neither all that popular nor have they brought with them the changes that voters were hoping for, including the poorest sectors, the supposed “beneficiaries” of “the model.” The rejection by the majority of citizens of the new and, paradoxically, the already exhausted paradigm, makes clear a truism: the neoliberalism of the ‘90s deepened the schism between the richest and the poorest of this continent, heightening the deep social conflicts and ruptures that have historically marked relations between governments and the governed. This gave way to the emergence of socialism of the XXI century, but, before long, it became clear that it is not the holy ointment to heal all of the region’s ills. Instead, it makes them worse.

The late Hugo Chávez was the highest representative of the model he attempted to implement, and it is expected that, together with his model, another ghostly excrescence will also disappear: ALBA, the Bolivarian Alliance for the Peoples of Our America, currently unmentioned, as a relative who has brought disgrace to the family. ALBA is a colossal pipedream, devised by the leader from Barinas himself in a recipe inspired by unadulterated selfishness, a mixture of leftist ideology, anti-imperialism, egotism, messianic in nature and spiced throughout with plenty of corruption. A pipedream stirred into the sea of ​​oil taken from Venezuelans for more three decades with the sole purpose of artificially supporting allies in the region, something that has become unsustainable in the current economic crisis in Venezuela, the largest in its history, born in the shadow of the doctrine of the new socialism.

Without a doubt, the matrix of the radical left has been taking on setbacks of late, almost without pause: scandals involving corruption, drug trafficking, influence peddling, patronage and other similar bits and pieces that keep many leaders under the magnifying glass of public opinion. It’s not so easy to keep people’s eyes under wraps. It is no wonder that the effusive president of Ecuador, Rafael Correa, has discreetly lowered his profile, putting away his fervent speech for some other symbolic occasion. The Central American drunkard, Daniel Ortega, is also not being seen around much these days. It’s not a good time for the leaders of the operetta.

However, it is still too early to place the tombstone on the tragic fate of 21st century socialism. At least we Cubans know very well how not to underestimate the capacity for survival, not of populist-type ideologies, so entrenched in Latin American veins, but in its “idiocrats” (or should I say idio-rats).

Behold smart aleck octogenarians of the Palace of the Revolution in Havana, who have had so much to do with the harmful leftist regional epidemics. They have been keeping anti-imperialist trappings under their thrones to enter into friendly lobbying ­precisely with “the natural enemy of the people,” Yankee imperialism.

And so, while Cristina has vanished from the political scene, Maduro continues his hysterical tantrum in the swampy Venezuelan panorama, and Evo seeks solace for Sunday’s setback, ruminating one after another his coca leaves in the Palacio Quemado, [The Bolivian Government Palace], the druids of the olive green gerontocracy are decked out in their finery, ready to receive the highest representative of the brutal capitalism whose hard currencies leftist leaders are so attracted to.

Of course, we should not be suspicious. Perhaps it is not a betrayal on the part of Cuba’s General-President and his claque of Marxist and Castro-Chavista principles in Our America, as claimed by some of the ill-intentioned, but a reshuffling of the action in view of the new circumstances. Over half a century of experience as successful pedigree conspirators supports the survivors of these chameleonic “Marxists.” We’ll see how they will recycle slogans and anthems of the proletarian Internationale as soon as leaders of the Castro regime succeed in laying their hands on dollars, since, when it is all said and done, it seems that the end does justify the means.

Because, without exaggerating, the so-called “socialism” with an autocratic soul is like a disease that cannot be cured and often kills. It’s like a mutant virus that changes in appearance and succeeds in multiplying in order to continue making human societies sick. The bad news for Cubans is that such an infection is cured only with a strong dose of democracy, a medication that has been in short supply in Cuba for more than six decades.

Translated by Norma Whiting

The Urban Marabou* / Fernando Dámaso

Fernando Damaso, 5 March 2106 — Poor taste and anti-aesthetics have spread across the whole country. Havana is an excellent example of this. None of its suburbs or districts have been able to avoid it. In Nuevo Vedado, in Tulipán Street, between Marino and Estancia Streets, an African-Cuban religious-cultural centre has been put up, made out of waste materials which, instead of embellishing the location, has made it ugly. Apart from making everybody who passes it miserable, with its profusion of flags, full-size unartistic figures, worthless paintings and aggressive and dangerous metal sheets, it also afflicts its  neighbours with music from early morning until late at night.

If it had belonged to any individual, the Planning Authority would have ordered its demolition by now, and would have ordered them to open up those sections of Marino and Estancia Streets, between Tulipán and Lombillo Streets to vehicular and pedestrian traffic, both of which have been closed and appropriated for its private use by the Ministries of Transport and Construction.

There is a repeat of the problem in the ramshackle facilities for the farmers’ market in Tulipán Street on the corner of Protestante, where poor taste and anti-aesthetics are also on display, made even worse by the dirty environment at that location.

It seems that urban regulations don’t apply equally to all situations, and that there are some strange “exceptions.”

*Translator’s note: Marabou is an invasive weed that has spread across much of Cuba’s agricultural land.

Translated by GH

The Dictatorship Between Obama’s Wink and Maduro’s Fall / Jeovany Jimenez Vega

Jeovany Jimenez Vega, 22 February 2016 — Cuba started 2016 looking toward an uncertain horizon: a parasitic economy in the red, bankrupt for decades, as dependent today on Venezuela as it once was on Soviet gulag; a neo-bourgeoisie oligarchy clinging to the same absurdity that has plunged us into the manure; lazy leaders turning a blind eye to the people’s needs, despoiling millions in their secret accounts and willing to do anything to maintain their privileges; the main economic gears — like GAESA (the state entity that controls almost all retail in the country), the monstrosity that controls the principal corporations and the entity that does or does not authorize every foreign investment on the island — in the hands of impudent soldiers who know nothing of economics but know very well the language of despotism. continue reading

Image of "Liborio" -- the Cuban "everyman"
Image of “Liborio” — the Cuban “everyman”

In my country there is no division of powers and this guarantees the absolute impunity of the Communist Party and Political Police henchmen in exercising the most shameless repression against the dissent of ideas. Cuba is a country that stepped into the year 2016 as a country without laws, in the hands of an elite of tyrants who are as concerned about Liborio’s poverty as they are about the existence of water on Mars.

Faced with such a bleak picture, we see perpetuated the exodus of the most fertile of Cuban youth, in an irrepressible flight that ends up being the hallmark of my generation and which I have already taken. The current immigration crisis in Central America — unleashed by Havana with the docile complicity of Daniel Ortega — is the most recent evidence of the lack of credibility with which Cuba’s youth look on the stale promises of octogenarian Raul Castro, and the insubstantiality of his alleged economic “reforms,” and can be read as the clearest plebiscite of rejection the old dictator has received — something he will never allow to occur in actual practice — before the eyes of the world.

Amid this dramatic internal situation two critical elements from outside carry influence: the policy of concord/legitimation toward the dictatorship offered a year ago by Barack Obama, and the imminent collapse of the Venezuelan monstrosity, that will bring the inevitable consequence of cutting off its payment of “royalties” to Havana.

The combination of both at this time come with the inevitable culmination — finally! — of the vital life cycle of historical gerontocracy of the Revolution, and this places Cuban society at a complex crossroads, as yet unknown.

I was always a staunch advocate of lifting of the US embargo on Havana. As for millions of Cubans, for me it has always been very clear that 80% of the excesses and endless shortages suffered by us during the last half century have been due to the bad faith and the mediocrity of the government of both Castros, so always I considered that the termination of this policy would clearly unmask, before history, the real culprits of our ruin.

But I confess something: when the revocation of sanctions against the dictatorship threatens to become a reality, right now Caracas is skimming off the last crumbs and the repressive Castro advisors are packing their bags, looking to a resumption of relations between Cuba and the United States. This leaves me with a sense of pleasurable frustration, difficult to explain, but very similar to the disappointment of a power outage at the movie theater at the exact instant when the hero is about to liquidate the film’s villain.

Without taking as absolute what is outlined above, I can’t help but taste in my imagination the diarrhea that would have dotted the halls of the Council of State and the Central Committee of the Cuban Communist Party — not to mention the offices of the Cuban political police — if the collapse of Venezuela had occurred without the last minute escape hatch thanks to the providence of the almighty Obama.

The question is obligatory: under what rock would Havana’s parasitic regime — consummately incapable of generation resources for itself — looked for its next benefactor? They couldn’t count on Putin’s Russian because despite the astronomical forgiveness of old debt and the geostrategic plans of the Tsar seeing Havana with its tip oriented to South America, it has become clear to everyone that the Island-of-Eden phase was definitely in the past and the Kremlin tovarich (comrades) are not willing to support their loony-tune boy from the old days any longer.

Much less could they count on neo-capitalist China, because beyond the coincidence of its totalitarian party/state ideological/strategic similarity, business with the great Asian economic giant demands timely payment in hard cash, something the Cuban dictatorship has no ability to take on for obvious reasons.

In short, little doubt remains: if the collapse of Caracas had happened in the absence of this opportunistic escape route to save the dictatorship in water up to its neck looking toward the brutal north — the same one they sneered at — there is no questions but that more than one general in Havana would have literally shit his pants. People could not face, again, the rigors of those terrible years that started in the ’90s known as the “Special Period.” Things aren’t like then, and tempers are short and the entire top brass knows that were a new “zero option” [extremely severe economic austerity] be considered, a very different rooster* would be singing in Cuba.

*Translator’s notes:  An expression similar to “a horse of another color” that can have a good or bad meaning; in this case a very negative one.

Translated by RSP

Cuban Education through the Keyhole / Somos+

Somos+, Amelia Albernas, 26 February 2016 — In my time, professors were proud of being what they were: a living gospel. We students were instructed by them and, furthermore, educated. The values and principles I have are thanks to my parents — one a psychologist and the other a history teacher — and to those teachers who had a true love for their profession.

Sadly, the new generations of Cubans don’t count and won’t be able to count on this. Material deficiencies and — why not? — spiritual ones, also, have wrecked the education that many of us received in past decades. The social and economic deterioration of the country has destroyed educational teaching. The exodus of teachers to other professions with better salaries is a reality that is striking but perfectly understandable. Our teachers lack great commitment, but it’s hard to ask for that commitment if salaries are low. continue reading

So it’s urgent and necessary that a profound change be produced in Cuban society and in the system of government, because a generation of sad, ignorant and lazy people will inherit this island, which José Martí defended with so much impetuous reason*.

It’s because of this that, today, I will share some ideas about what path our social project of Somos + should take in order to stop this disastrous process of demoralization in such an important sector as education. The nation owes an enormous debt to its teachers, and the general opinion is that there should be a more effective way to pay them.

The profession of teaching deserves respect and consideration.

Education, by necessity, should continue to be subsidized; this is an unavoidable principle for every nation and a human right. Apparently it’s not a way to earn money, but only apparently. In reality, school is the beginning of everything. Without an integral and convincing education it’s impossible to count on good professionals and technicians. But it’s to be noted that there should be no indoctrination and, much less, a personality cult of any man.

Education, for most of the dictatorial governments, means trying to direct children in order to reproduce the typical behaviors of the society they represent. For Somos+, education means making creators, inventors and innovators, not conformists. And because we have been and are witness to the enormous loss of values in the young generations that live today in our Cuban society, we champion an education where the maxim is to “drink from all sources, taking as a base the spring of our nationality**.”

Educating for creativity is educating for change and shaping people who are rich in originality, flexibility, future vision, initiative, confidence, risk-taking and readiness to confront the obstacles and problems that are presented to them in their lives as students and in everyday life, in addition to offering them tools for innovation.

Creativity can be developed through the educative process, favoring potentialities and making major use of individual and group resources inside the teaching and learning process.

Continuing with these ideas, we can’t speak of creative education without mentioning the importance of a creative atmosphere that fosters reflective and creative thought in the classroom.

The concept of creative education begins with the approach that creativity is linked to all spheres of human activity and is the product of a determined historical social evolution.

On the other hand, creative education implies a love for change. Creativity must be fostered in an atmosphere of psychological freedom and profound humanism, so that students feel capable of confronting what is new and giving it respect, teaching them to not fear change, but rather to feel at ease with it and enjoy it.

Based on our reasoning for a freer country, we state our principles:

“The best way to defend our rights is to know them; thus we keep faith and strength. Every nation will be unhappy as long as they don’t educate their children. A town of educated men will always be a town of free men. Education is the only way to free oneself from slavery.”

*Martí, José. Complete Works. Volume XVII.

**Taken from Ideas and Principles of the Movement Somos+.

Translated by Regina Anavy

Pro-Castro Foolishness / Luis Felipe Rojas

“There will be no impunity for the enemies of the fatherland, for those who intend to endanger our independence.” — Raúl Castro, 3 August 2010.

Luis Felipe Rojas, 28 February 2016 — Attention, all who rabidly applaud the Obama-Francisco-Castro pact: it is worthwhile to make difficult proposals, ask inconvenient questions, and bother the military beast that has run the Island with the trembling hands of whisky hangovers.

Oh, no? Not in your plans? It must be said again and again, because after the hugs have come the kisses, and who knows what else. Among secretaries of agriculture, lady mayors, aide-de-camps, successful businesspeople, and rock superstars, there must be somebody left with a little shame who will make it known to Raúl Castro that his outstretched hand should go in another direction, he should look the people in the eye and quit posing for a photograph that will take on a sepia tone faster than his egomania can stand it. continue reading

Muriel Bowser, Lady Mayor of Washington, visited Cuba last week and said that she wants an educational system similar to that in Cuba for her fellow citizens. Was she including among this the Study-Work method — that she was taken to see — which Cuban instituted to put an end to the family and turn common citizens into robots? Does Her Ladyship know that Cuban children are obligated to shout that they want to be like Ché Guevra, and that from repeating it so much they become so, barely out of adolescence?

Those children who were so excited to be like Ché Guevara left the country to kill Africans that they had never met, and returned bearing all the traumas of war, turned into fat fifty-somethings, who today run a plastics factory or a Rapid Response Brigade (those at-the-ready to shout down — or even beat down — any display of non-conformance with the regime).

Could it be that no superstar, before giving a concert or going out to enjoy mojitos and pork chunks, will ask Castro to disarm the surveillance mechanism that keeps an eye even on the intimate apparel of every Cuban woman? The wizened stool-pigeon of the neighborhood, the “honorary official,” the “specialist” of State Security who controls every provincial cultural center, even the thug who organizes a raid on dissidents — they are all part and parcel of that magic that today enthralls the political tourists when they gaze upon Raúl Castro. He is the criminal with whom they pose and will be seen in the Times, the Washington Post, or the now “spotless” and in-the-running-for-an-Oscar Boston Globe.

It will never be to late to align oneself to infamy. So, start running today to Havana, stroll around sporting your little container of bottled water, take a whiff of that 21st Century dungheap that has been sold to you as the best-educated nation of Latin America. Forget about the penitentiary system, of the fear among neighbors, of the violence that can just as easily decapitate with machetes as take a youth’s life by kicking him until his spinal cord is crushed in the police station at Zanja and Dragones streets.

Go and tell the world that Cuba has changed, that the island is a paradise.

Translated by: Alicia Barraqué Ellison

Covering the “Eyes” of Claudio Fuentes / Luis Felipe Rojas

Cuban photographer Claudio Fuentes, arrested by the political police in Havana. Courtesy: Ailer González, State of SATS.

Luis Felipe Rojas, Miami, 15 February 2016 — Cuban photographer and dissident Claudio Fuentes was once again arrested on Sunday, 14 February, by forces of the National Revolutionary Police (PNR) in Havana. The Castro regime’s gendarmes kept Fuentes from taking part in the peaceful action #TodosMarchamos [We All March], which the Ladies in White and dozens of activists put on in support of Human Rights.

Cuban photographer Claudio Fuentes, arrested by the political police in Havana. Courtesy: Ailer González, State of SATS.

Claudio Fuentes is an independent photographer who has been arrested on numerous occasions for taking part in and photographing peaceful activities of the internal dissidence in Cuba. His photographs reveal victims of beatings, women who express their courage against the threatening actions of the Cuban dictatorship, but he has also photographed in an original manner life in Havana as he has lived it.

The information regarding the arrest of Claudio Fuentes was provided by Ailer González, who in charge of artistic projects for State of SATS, which is directed by Antonio Rodiles. The activist posted various photos in which Fuentes can be seen being detained at the hands of the PNR and officials from State Security. Similarly, González reproached the journalist Fernando Ravsberg and others who blame the Cuban opposition for not bringing together more people.

“…And how do you mobilize them under a totalitarian dictatorship where there are these levels of control, harrassment and repression? Assisted further by the Obama administration, the Vatican and even Kirill, the czar of the Russian mafia?” asked the activist.

For over 10 months, diverse organizations and individual activists have documented 41 consecutive Sundays in which the military forces have violently repressed the Ladies in White during their march upon leaving St. Rita Church, on 5th Avenue in the Miramar neighborhood in the Cuban capital. The Forum for Rights and Liberties (FPDyL) has coordinated support for the women.

Claudio probably is free at this hour, and frustrated because they did not allow him to photograph that piece of Cuba not found in today’s tourist guides. If not, I send him all my solidarity — as on several occasions he did with me, when the henchmen were detaining me and minutely recording my life in a small town of eastern Cuba where the tourists, businesspeople and celebrities did not, and still do not, arrive to stroll impassively while looking the other way.

I will leave you here other marvelous photos taken by Claudio Fuentes.

“Gente” [People]. Photos by Claudio Fuentes.
“Gente” [People]. Photos by Claudio Fuentes.

Lía Villares, Cuban activist. From the series, “Gente.” Photos by Claudio Fuentes.

Translated by: Alicia Barraqué Ellison

The Business of Exporting Cuban Medical Services / Ivan Garcia

Cuban doctors protesting in Bogota
Cuban doctors protesting in Bogota

Ivan Garcia, 26 February 2016 — In a hospital in East Caracas, a bronze plaque records:”To the medical workers who died in Bolivarian lands while doing their duty”, as if they had fallen in battle.

But they didn’t die in combat. They were victims of the street violence which has converted Venezuela into a slaughterhouse with the highest crime rate in the world. In April 2010, which was the last time the Venezuelan government reported on the matter, 68 Cuban doctors had died for that reason.

For doctors like Jorge (the names of the people interviewed have been changed), Venezuela was a nightmare. “I spent two years in a slum in Cerros de Caracas. Early in the morning you could hear fights and gunfire. It seemed like the wild west. The embassy advised us not to go out in the street at night. I have never felt so afraid. Not even during the war in Angola”. continue reading

Venezuela has ended up not just the most dangerous, but also the worst paid by the olive green autocracy, which has made the export of medical services the country’s principal industry.

While he was in Caracas, Jorge was paid $200 a month and the Ministry of Public Health (MINSAP) deposited 150 convertible pesos into a bank account for his wife in Havana. “Cuban doctors go to places nobody wants to go to. And with terrible salaries. The government wins both ways. It gains propaganda and earns money from us”.

“Why do Cuban medical professionals go to difficult locations, risking their lives?”, I ask him. Jorge looks up at the ceiling of the dilapidated clinic in a poor neighbourhood in Havana and thinks for a few seconds, before replying:

“Some go in order to emigrate, others see these journeys as a way of earning some money in order to sort out personal problems. I don’t know, there are lots of reasons, but I can assure you that the last thing on their mind is the altruism that Cuba talks so much about”.

An investigation carried out by various independent journalists for the Institute for War and Peace Reporting (IWPR), published in Cubanet in September 2015, revealed how Cuban personnel in the so-called “international missions” are robbed of their salaries.

According to this investigation, the Asistencia Médica Compensada programme has become a way of getting in foreign currency and a useful diplomatic and public relations tool for the Cuban authorities.

Those who join the medical brigades abroad enjoy higher salaries and have access to major perks. But they have to hand over at least 50% of their income to the government, depending on their assignment. As an example, the report indicates that the doctors located in Trinidad and Tobago deposit half their salaries in an acount in the name of Rody Cervantes Silva, coordinator of the brigade, who then transfers it to the government.

“Supposedly, this is a voluntary ’donation’ says Odalys, who is a dermatologist, and who offered her services in South Africa and Portugal, and explains that the payment system is different in each country.

“The contract you sign with MINSAP doesnt give you much detail. You sign it more because you need the money than for any other reason, and you hardly read the small print. In Pretoria they paid me $400 a month and the bank deposited $1200 for me. Looking into it, I knew that my real salary was $5,000. They kept hold of 70% of it. Even so, with the money you get, you can sort out your house and even buy a second hand car, said Odalys.

The international missions also are a basis for running parallel businesses in the countries in which they operate. Oscar, a gynaecologist, carried out under-the-counter abortions in a private clinic in an African country. “I made $500 for each abortion. I was able to buy a house and a modern car with the money I saved”.

Irene, head of a group of nurses, went frequently to Venezuela, Brazil and Ecuador, for work reasons. “Before I left, I bought three or four thousand dollars.  With this money I could buy flat-screen televisions and cellphones, among other things, and I sold them when I got back. With this investment I make two thousand convertible pesos profit”.

But it is the government which makes the most out of these medical services exports. Ten billion dollars annually. According to Yiliam Jiménez, president of Cuban Medical Sales SA, Cuba has 51 thousand health professionals serving in 67 countries.

This Services Retailer is a network of companies, research institutes and high standard clinics which offer services at competitive prices in the international market.

While many Cuban hospitals and medical centres are crying out for repairs and and patients bring buckets and fans, towels and sheets when they are admitted, clinics like Cira García, the La Pradera Medical Centre and CIMEQ (Surgeons’ Medical Research Centre) offer a la carte menus, have air-conditioned rooms and 24 hour ambulance services.

The overseas medical squads have also converted themselves into a migration option. It’s an unusual week in which Solidaridad sin Frontera, a Miami-based organisation, does not receive six or seven calls from Cubans who want to join the Programme for Cuban Medical Professionals, better known as Visas CMPP, offered by the US government.

Since 2000, about 6,000 medical workers have deserted their international missions. And, up to 2010, 68 Cuban doctors have died in Venezuela, victims of street violece. Six years later, the up to date figure is not known. A plaque in a hospital remembers them.

Iván García

Martí Noticias, February 24, 2016.

Photo: Cuban health workers, who deserted medical missions in Venezuela protest in Bogotá.

Translated by GH