Federico Hernández Aguilar – Translating Cuba

Unable To Admit Its Own Demise, Castroism Only Delays the Inevitable

In the transition to freedom and democracy, the White House should resist the temptation to undertake this task alone.

Castroism faces an unprecedented crisis, although the regime’s capacity to resist should never be underestimated. / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Federico Hernández Aguilar, San Salvador, February 13, 2026 – Faced with Cuba’s energy collapse and its foreseeable social consequences, practiclaly all analyses of the situation on the island agree on three very specific points: that Castroism is facing an crisis without precedents; that one should never underestimate, despite everything, the capacity of the regime to resist and reinvent itself, despite everything; and that, finally, it is impossible to predict what will happen after 67 years of dictatorship.

While largely agreeing with these preliminary deductions, it is worthwhile to risk some hypotheses that can contribute criteria and ideas to the public debate on Cuba and its future. Because the fundamental dilemma is not about setting an exact date for the death and burial of Castroism—whose political and economic model, de facto, expired several years ago after a long agony—but rather about trying to commit to a transitional alternative that enables democratic construction and minimizes the imaginable humanitarian impacts.

Cuba, to begin with, is not Venezuela. In Caracas, there weren’t enough compatriots willing to die alongside Nicolás Maduro: the vast majority of the dead were Cubans. On the island, there are indeed enough soldiers ready to sacrifice themselves, just as those who fell defending—at the last minute—Maduro, because they weren’t offering their lives for the Chavista dictator, but for an ideology instilled in them since childhood.

Cuba, to begin with, is not Venezuela. In Caracas, there weren’t enough compatriots willing to die alongside Nicolás Maduro: the vast majority of the dead were Cubans

These quasi-religious convictions have been fundamental to the maintenance of Castroism, and it is advisable to analyze them before undertaking any kind of military incursion into Cuba. The United States, on the other hand, even assuming it could orchestrate the regime’s implosion (through leaks and negotiations) with a popular uprising, would have to act quickly to limit the operational capacity of the official repressive apparatus. And that, while essential, is quite complicated. continue reading

While it is true that the charisma narrative of Castroism died with Fidel, the cohesion of the political and military elite has allowed for a level of control and surveillance unparalleled in Latin America. Dismantling this structure requires a high degree of lethality, delivered with agility and precision. Undoubtedly, the US possesses these capabilities, but exercising them on an island like Cuba could indefinitely delay decision-making. Meanwhile, tragically, citizens would be wondering what the difference would be between dying of hunger and going out into the street to be shot. It is impossible to write this without trembling fingers.

Regarding the transition to freedom and democracy, the White House should resist the temptation to undertake this task alone. Throughout the 20th century, ordinary Cubans didn’t speak of the aid the United States had given them in 1898 to achieve their independence; what they remembered was the Yankee occupation and the humiliating conditions imposed from Washington at the behest of Senator Orville Platt—hence the name of the famous 1901 Platt Amendment to the Cuban Constitution—which limited the island’s trade relations, forced it to cede portions of territory (such as Guantánamo), and exposed it to future interventions.

President Trump is likely unaware of this history, but his Secretary of State certainly is. Marco Rubio knows of Cuba’s tendency to view its large neighbor with suspicion, however much it now needs Cuba to shake off its tyranny. Washington, therefore, would be wise to lead a hemispheric alliance of nations willing to contribute, especially logistically and intellectually, to the arduous transition process in a country that has seen key figures killed, detained, or exiled. Chile, Argentina, El Salvador, and Paraguay, to name a few, are countries that have successfully transitioned from dictatorship or war to democracy. Requesting their collaboration would be an encouraging display of wisdom.

It would, therefore ,be in Washington’s best interest to take the lead in a hemispheric alliance of nations willing to contribute, especially logistically and intellectually, to the arduous transition process.

Meanwhile, clearly, the imposed president Miguel Díaz-Canel has asked Cubans, even though they’ve already suffered everything, to prepare to suffer even more. What are two hours of renewed calls for sacrifice to a guy who never stops eating exquisite food and using electric light bulbs?

Jorge Dalton, a prestigious documentary filmmaker and founder of the International Film School of San Antonio de los Baños, recently wrote on his social media: “I see officials giving sterile speeches and harangues, projecting a false pride that reminds me of that story about a man who is drowning in the sea and, with water already entering his mouth, instead of asking for help he shouts: What a beautiful Caribbean Sea I am swallowing!”

Castroism, in any case, has already been swallowed up by history. There was and will be no absolution for those who caused Cuban blood to flow—in torrents!—for a model that was incapable of recognizing its own demise.

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Whether He Admits It or Not, Trump Only Has One Option in Venezuela

Between power vacuums and diplomatic maneuvers, the fate of the country hangs in the balance.

Dismissing María Corina Machado was, we now know, a political blunder and a childish emotional outburst. / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Federico Hernández Aguilar, San Salvador, January 22, 2026 -Reducing geopolitical threats to the US—that is, limiting the influence of Iran, China, and Russia (probably in that order)—is reason enough for someone like Donald Trump to order the removal of a dictator in South America. Nicolás Maduro was a prime candidate for a swift removal without the need for any military invasion. And that’s exactly what the Republican president did, removing the missing piece to better control the chessboard.

With the fall of Hugo Chávez’s successor, however, a whole new range of possibilities opens up. We already know that Trump lacks democratic credentials and even the slightest scruples to conceal this deficiency. We also know that his temperament is volatile, his ego colossal, and his thirst for power astounding. He has no qualms about saying what he thinks because he has never needed to think about what he says. His limits, as he himself has stated, depend on what he calls his “own morality,” an assertion that will surely be a topic of debate among psychotherapists and legal philosophers in the years to come.

But Donald Trump, like any politician lacking statesmanship, does have fears. He fears real challenges to his power. And he also possesses a keen sense for understanding when that power might truly be challenged. The midterm elections next November exert a real pressure on the president, because by then he must present tangible achievements on nearly every front his excesses have opened up. continue reading

But Donald Trump, like any politician lacking statesmanlike qualities, does have fears.

And it is precisely here that democracy in Venezuela can take root: in that small crack between unbearable narcissism and electoral realism. If figures like Marco Rubio have managed to push their boss down the path of a surgical and successful coup, they are now obligated to propose the long process of democratic restoration as a noble and lasting legacy. Not because Trump cares about Venezuelans, but because he cares about what posterity will say about him.

And a resounding failure in Bolívar’s land is not only now a possibility—not to mention a terrible legacy—but the rhetoric emanating from the White House has already made this harsh reality palpable for many observers, both within Venezuela and around the world. The time has come for the empty, boastful rhetoric to give way to pragmatism and skill, even for Trump’s own benefit.

Dismissing María Corina Machado as a key player in the Venezuelan transition was, as we now know, a political blunder and a childish emotional outburst (with a Nobel Prize to boot). However, as expected, someone finally told Trump that his tantrum would have consequences. Machado will have to return to Caracas and lead the reconstruction of her country, whether with the approval or the reluctance of the US president.

Long before that, it is true, the dangerous power vacuum left by Maduro must be filled. The remaining Chavistas, currently embodied by Delcy Rodríguez, are the necessary scapegoat for this purpose. Without someone like her, dismantling the oppressive structure in Venezuela would necessitate a military occupation in the short or medium term. And nobody wants that. Not even Trump; least of all his voters.

But restoring order in the barracks is very different from governing toward democracy. That task cannot be carried out by any figure from the fallen regime, among other things because none of them understand the meaning of the rule of law, separation of powers, or accountability. Whoever Washington negotiates with to oversee this period must know that their mission has an expiration date.

But restoring order in the barracks is very different from governing towards democracy.

Following the stabilization phase that will prevent the country’s collapse, the US will then have to provide on-the-ground protection and support to the legitimate opposition that defeated Maduro at the polls in July 2024, hopefully sooner rather than later. This support should be shared with other neighboring countries in the region. An overwhelming US presence is inadvisable.

Recognizing these fundamental conditions is the basis for a successful transition. If the US has truly chosen to guide the initial stability, with the promise of building the foundation for a full democracy, then Rodríguez’s role is merely instrumental, while Machado’s is essential. But until that happens, the Chavista past must now bear the risks of the necessary dismantling.

The release—not merely the release of political prisoners—is non-negotiable, as is the disarmament of the motorized armed groups under Diosdado Cabello’s command. Those who remain defiant must have their options limited: join the Colombian guerrillas on the border, attempt a futile internal military resistance, or go to prison. The important thing is that each remnant knows what they stand to gain if they challenge Delcy Rodríguez’s interim presidency.

At the same time, the opposition’s social base must receive the right messages, not more confusion. As Andrés Izarra, a former member of Chávez’s cabinet, wrote, “Trump’s triumph was taking Maduro out of the car while it was moving and getting in himself.” True. The problem is that not only has the car continued moving, but this vehicle—called Venezuela—has only one possible destination: democracy. Any other destination is a collision… and it will be fatal for whoever is on board, even if their last name is Trump.

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The Globalist Failure in the Venezuelan Context

The ineffectiveness of multilateral organizations in the face of institutional collapse and external intervention

This is not about absolving any leader or nation of responsibility, but about exposing the damage caused by the lack of consensus. / EFE

14ymedio, Federico Hernández Aguilar, San Salvador, 3 January 2025 — The new year began with Venezuela cornered by the United States military presence. Finally, in the early hours of January 3, Nicolás Maduro and his wife were extracted from Caracas. The political and social situation in the South American country had become so manifestly undefendable—a diagnosis also applicable to Cuba and Nicaragua—that US intervention appeared to be the only viable solution. Out of a sense of historical responsibility, however, it is worth asking ourselves why this extreme scenario came to pass.

The threat of one nation against another violates one of the basic principles of international law: non-interference. No country should feel justified in interfering in another’s affairs. Both the Charter of the United Nations (UN) and that of the Organization of American States (OAS) establish “non-intervention in matters which are essentially within the domestic jurisdiction of states” as a pillar of peaceful coexistence.

Although both documents acknowledge this principle, neither of the two declares it to be absolute. It admits the existence of valid reasons for interference in the domestic affairs of a nation, provided that the intervention is carried out by a multilateral organized force whose criteria must prove these reasons: real dangers to peace, the defense of a country under attack, and when a state has demonstrated its inability to protect its own people from monumental crimes.

Since the creation of the UN, hundreds of armed conflicts have broken out around the world.

According to Chapter VII of the UN Charter, the Security Council is the body charged with “taking the initiative” in all matters concerning the pursuit and maintenance of world peace. If the organization were successful in this mission—the very purpose for which it was created, let us not forget—fraternity and cooperation would be the defining characteristics continue reading

of international relations, and preventive diplomacy would always be at the forefront of addressing any hint of conflict.

Historical reality has proven quite different. Since the creation of the UN in October 1945, hundreds of armed conflicts have erupted around the globe. In fact, according to the most recent edition of the Global Peace Index, there are currently 59 active state conflicts, “the highest number since the end of World War II.” Furthermore, the rate of peaceful resolution of these conflicts is lower than at any other time in the last half-century.

The internationalization of disputes has also grown exponentially. At least 78 countries are currently involved in tensions that transcend their territorial borders, and a total of 106 nations have increased their military capabilities. In 1970, only six countries possessed substantial influence over other states, while now that number has risen to 34. The fragmentation of global power has not only weakened good neighborliness but has also demolished it.

The UN’s evident failure stems from many factors, beginning with the veto power held within the Security Council, even by those countries that carry out acts of aggression against others. Russia, for example, blocks any resolution on the war in Ukraine; the United States obstructs any decision on the conflict in Gaza; and China typically defends the interests of its allies. Why do these three states possess such power? Because, along with the United Kingdom and France, they were the victorious nations of the last major war, securing for themselves a permanent seat on the Council. To make matters worse, the non-permanent members of this body have included Gaddafi’s Libya, Musharraf’s Pakistan, Al-Bashir’s Sudan, and Mubarak’s Egypt.

The UN could have been far more effective if the veto system between major powers had an intelligent technical counterpart. But that is not the case either. For decades, the organization has been promoting and imposing large-scale “progressive” agendas, causing more divisions than necessary and fueling a multilateral bureaucracy that never provides a clear accounting of its work. The OAS operates with very similar limitations, unable to achieve the two-thirds majority needed in its Permanent Council to properly implement its Democratic Charter (another shining example of a worthless document).

The organization has spent decades promoting and imposing “progressive” agendas on a large scale.

In consequence, lacking a global organization with sufficient authority — operational, legal and moral — to manage conflicts, authoritarian leaders feel free to intimidate their own people or to attack neighboring countries. Thus, we see Hugo Chávez and Nicolás Maduro establishing a 25-year dictatorship in Venezuela, or Vladimir Putin invading Ukraine, all under a cloak of impunity.

The encirclement of the Maduro regime by the US military would have been unnecessary if a supranational entity existed with the capacity to act promptly against tyrannies, with defined criteria, concrete actions, and well-defined limits. But in the chaotic landscape of humanity, when those who should guarantee peace and individual rights display their exhaustion and venality, it is difficult to expect change to occur without upheavals.

This is not about absolving any leader or nation of responsibility, but about exposing the damage caused by the absence of objective and viable consensus around the eternal challenge of peace.

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Eleventh Commandment: You Shall Not Undermine the Public Trust

It is not part of the famous Decalogue. But it should be.

Former Colombian President Álvaro Uribe. / EFE

14ymedio, Federico Hernández Aguilar, San Salvador, 3 August 2025 — In recent days, after a lengthy trial that began in 2012, former President Álvaro Uribe Vélez was sentenced to 12 years of house arrest, becoming the first Colombian president to receive a criminal conviction. According to the judge in charge of the case, Uribe is guilty of bribery and procedural fraud, following a lawsuit in which the former president was the initial plaintiff for alleged slander against him.

Beyond the details of the scandal, or whether Uribe has reason to consider himself a “victim of justice,” the truth is that the sentence has exacerbated the conflict between the former president’s supporters and detractors, further polarizing—if possible—the already heated political climate in Colombia.

In Spain, meanwhile, Pedro Sánchez’s government is facing ruin. Allegations of illegal overcharging, inflated public works contracts, money laundering, and even sex trafficking have shaken the Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party (PSOE) to its foundations. The bets are now focused on how long Sánchez will endure this storm. The prestigious British magazine, The Economist, has dedicated a catastrophic note to the stubborn PSOE leader: “To restore confidence in Spanish democracy, the Prime Minister should assume his responsibility and step aside. There is no valid reason for him to remain in office.” It couldn’t be said more clearly.

Today, countless Republican voters are demanding transparency in the Epstein case and are loading the dice against Trump.

The dark story of tycoon Jeffrey Epstein, who died in 2019 while serving a prison sentence for sex trafficking of minors, has ended up splashing on the White House for reasons that shouldn’t surprise us, as they feed on the tangle of conspiracy theories that Trump’s own followers, sometimes continue reading

instigated by him, have concocted with vigorous passion in recent years.

Today, countless Republican voters are demanding transparency in the Epstein case and are loading the dice against the leader who taught them how to redirect neurons through the liver’s ducts. Of course, as in the cases of Uribe and Sánchez, this is not the place to offer a definitive opinion on Donald Trump’s culpability. The only certainty is that the moral bankruptcy of the current political leadership, in most of the world, is manifest and unquestionable.

I think every well-born citizen, wherever he or she lives, would like to see corrupt officials struck by lightning when they approach the state coffers with malicious intent, just as were those who dared to touch the Ark of Yahweh in biblical times. We would like officials who enrich themselves unduly to be punished by an infallible, supreme law, so that they would always remember that the place where public funds are kept is sacred.

Corruption, fraud, and influence peddling are certainly not crimes our societies should tolerate. They divert valuable resources intended for purposes far more noble than lining the pockets of scoundrels. Worse still, they seriously jeopardize the credibility of our institutions and their leaders. Unfortunately, there are still plenty of sleepless anarchists and socialists who take advantage of the unacceptable shortcomings of some public servants to proclaim the end of democracies and propose authoritarian tendencies (which then end up being equally or more repugnant than the replaced leadership).

I think every well-born citizen, wherever he or she lives, would like to see corrupt officials struck by lightning

The Austrian jurist and philosopher Hans Kelsen already warned us in this regard: “The tendency towards clarity is specifically democratic, and when it is lightly stated that certain political inconveniences, especially immoralities and corruption, are more frequent in democracy than in autocracy, a judgment that is too superficial or malevolent of this political form is issued, since these inconveniences occur equally in autocracy, with the only difference being that they go unnoticed because principles prevail there that are opposed to publicity,” that is, to denunciation, to freedom of expression, to the guarantees for and by the truth that liberal systems provide.

You and I, dear reader, have the right to demand that the money we give to the State be converted into public works. You and I have the right to demand that those who dishonored their office and vehemently deceived to cling to power not be protected.

Corruption and lies are highly corrosive: they degrade, undermine, and erode. In addition to contributing to the depravation of politics, they rob citizens of the trust that is essential for institutional systems to function properly. Quality of life suffers irremediably, because everything tends to collapse.

It is therefore our responsibility to demand that corrupt and mendacious individuals be brought down with effective prosecutions and strict laws. Regardless of what ideas they preach, officials who debase their work must be assured that their crimes will never go unpunished

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Brave Journalism and Dying Democracies

What the public demands is professional integrity, and that is the least a journalist can and should offer them.

Unfortunately, rather than uncovering and exposing the truth, some people do their work to justify their own theories. / Pxhere

14ymedio, Federico Hernández Aguilar, San Salvador, 28 July 2025 — Referring to his fellow countryman, the priest and writer Benito Feijóo, Don Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo, the most influential Spanish academic of his time, wrote with irony that he did not want “to do him the affront of calling him a journalist, although he has something of that in his worst moments.”

This fact is curious for two reasons: first, because it illustrates how much animosity the journalistic profession caused among Iberian intellectuals at the beginning of the 20th century—considered by many of them to be the devaluation of literature—and second, because Menéndez y Pelayo always enjoyed, while he was alive, what today we would call a “good press.”

Don Marcelino was far from imagining that journalism would become, by dint of demonstrating it, not only an unavoidable social power, capable of shaping culture, but also a primordial space for deciding the strengthening and even the permanence of democracies in the modern world.

The value of opinion, as well as the vehicles that transmit it, is unquestionable. In his immortal 1859 work, On Liberty, John Stuart Mill provides the classic liberal argument on the subject: “If an opinion were silenced, that opinion, so far as we know, might contain the truth. To deny it is to assume our own infallibility. In the second place, even if the silenced opinion were erroneous, it may well contain—and indeed frequently does contain—part of the truth; and as the general or dominant opinion on any subject is seldom the whole truth, it is only in the free clash of opposing continue reading

ideas that the opportunity arises of attaining the rest of the truth.”

Journalism in this era continues to face powerful enemies, from those who fill prisons with critical informants to those who silence opinions with more sophisticated methods.

Hence the importance of freedom of expression and its guarantees, as well as the struggle that people must wage to preserve it. Journalism in this era continues to face powerful enemies, from those who fill prisons with critical informants to those who silence opinions with more sophisticated methods, such as resorting to digital intimidation or paying for the disseminators of fake news.

The 1989 Nobel Prize winner for Literature, Camilo José Cela, without any gratuitous concessions, directed his wit toward a greater understanding of the journalistic profession, predicting success for communicators who aspired to “intellectual understanding and not a visceral feeling of events and situations,” in a constant (and healthy) review of their personal attitude toward reality. Considering the variety of circumstances that complicate the relationship between the news professional and the shifting terrain of facts, this reflection is timely.

Of course, the ways in which a media outlet, exercising its freedom, responds to the obligation to report truthfully differ. What should be uniform is the effort—not only constant, but growing—to achieve that minimum level of awareness and responsibility that should ideally underlie any honest search for the truth. It is there, in that small gap, where credibility is gained or lost.

Quoting Cela’s Dodecalogue again, it states: “Respect for the truth, the simple and immediate homage that must be paid to the truth day after day, must guide the steps of the journalist who aspires to play his role with dignity, grandeur, and effectiveness…” And indeed, the duty of editorial conscience to ask, amid the daily hustle and bustle, what criteria define what is considered to be in the public interest and how these criteria will be applied in the articulation of the news belongs to the realm of editorial conscience. And there, as in almost everything, the proposals are as diverse as the thoughts, experiences, and even prejudices.

The problem, many times, lies not in defining what truth is being told, but in how much truth is being ignored. What provokes distrust, for example, is the attitude of what I call the “journalist fly,” that type of news prowler who goes to the truth with the same avidity as flies in gardens: seeking only and exclusively the garbage. This coprophagous instinct doesn’t limit itself to “feeding” on rot; it presents it as the most emblematic thing in the surroundings. What’s questionable here isn’t the desire to talk about the filth that may be in a garden, but the attempt to turn that filth into the entire garden!

In highly controversial cases, partially exposing the truth can be as unethical as not exposing it at all. Depending on the scope of their story, a professional journalist knows that context is an inescapable duty.

In highly controversial cases, partially exposing the truth can be as unethical as not exposing it at all. Depending on the scope of their story, a professional journalist knows that context is an inescapable duty. And contextualizing means offering the public a true perspective of the garden before their eyes, presenting without exaggeration the distance between fragrant roses and excrement.

Hubert Beuve-Méry, founder of the newspaper Le Monde, once said: “In journalism, objectivity doesn’t exist; honesty does.” Unfortunately, rather than uncovering and exposing the truth, some people do their work to justify their own theories. In exchange for their attention or preference, however, what the public demands is professional integrity, and that is the least a journalist can and should offer.

If we delve into the complexities of human nature, it should come as no surprise that freedom of expression is one of the most vulnerable achievements of modern civilization. Despite this fragility, however, it must be emphasized that honest journalism, practiced courageously, may well be the last bastion of dying democracies.

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I Like, Pepe, That You Dislike It

“I haven’t cultivated hatred in my garden for decades, because I learned a hard lesson that life imposed on me: that hatred ends up making you stupid,” said Mujica.”

José Mujica on the farm where he lived for more than 35 years and asked to be buried. / EFE/ Sofía Torre

14ymedio, Federico Hernández Aguilar, San Salvador, 19 May 2025 [Delayed translation] — It is not easy to find balanced obituaries when certain public figures die. Some are praised or disparaged, sometimes without nuance, depending on the ideological radicalism of the person writing about them. Sometimes, these somewhat hasty words, cobbled together by journalists and columnists in the wake of a recent death, tell us more about their authors—their likes and dislikes—than about the figures being profiled. This has been no different with former Uruguayan President Pepe Mujica, who died of cancer on May 13.

I open the digital version of a newspaper that includes the word derecha— right—in its name and find the following headline: Pepe Mujica, the man who hid a past stained with blood and violence. The article criticizes the “wise peasant” and “pacifist grandfather” profile that the former Tupamaro leader has “sold,” reminding us that his guerrilla organization was responsible “for multiple acts of armed violence in the 1960s and 1970s.” Later, the article states that Pepe “did not show a single gesture of remorse for his crimes” nor did he apologize to the victims of his attacks. The final sentence is damning: “Mujica was not a hero: he was a terrorist recycled as a president.”

In another newspaper that includes the word izquierdo—left—in its name, the column I’m reading calls the former Uruguayan president a “repentant revolutionary” in its headline. Nor does this obituary—written from the opposite side of the street—offer its readers much room for maneuver either: Pepe was a “defender of the institutions of the capitalist system,” an “extreme expression” of a deradicalized Latin American left, and someone who “played a central role in reconciliation with the military responsible for crimes during the dictatorship.” The author describes Mujica’s speech as one that served as “a defeatist and disciplinary message (sic), which contrasts drastically with the revolutionary ideals of his youth.” continue reading

In another newspaper that includes the word “left” in its name, the column I read calls the former Uruguayan president a “repentant revolutionary” in its headline.

I recognize the interest aroused in me by the confrontation of these feverish obituaries, so completely separated by their respective ideologies and yet so unusually united in their contempt for the figure. I confess, I like the disgust that Pepe Mujica provokes at both ends of the Spanish-American ideological spectrum. The old man must have done something right, I imagine, for the reptilians on both sides to rush to criticize his legacy, portraying him as an unrepentant bloodthirsty man who should be given no credit, or as a shameful comrade who ended up sugarcoating the socialist ideal for which he had fired rifles and dropped bombs.

I suspect radicals have many reasons to feel uncomfortable with Mujica. They find it very difficult, for starters, to claim him as their own. No one who still believes in Marxist postulates about violence could explain why Pepe, toward the end of his life, spoke more about the great ethical battle of our time than about the Jurassic class struggle. “The old left,” he wrote, “lives too much on nostalgia… It has a hard time understanding why it failed and has great difficulty imagining new paths.”

On the other side, it also stings that Mujica was a living example of moral coherence. He challenged what he called the “culture of selfishness” with more than just catchphrases, embodying sobriety in countercultural, almost lacerating ways. Body and soul, he lived contradicting the atavistic desire for profit and luxury. “The poor are those who want more,” he said, “those who can’t afford anything. Those are the poor, because they’re in an endless race.” Someone so detached from all baggage, of course, hardly fits in anywhere.

But without a doubt, the worst burden Pepe shed was hatred. In his days as a guerrilla and criminal, hatred for those who thought differently was an indispensable condition for struggle. Che Guevara, in those chilling words addressed to the Tricontinental (1967), granted the revolutionary legitimacy that was the cloak of that youthful criminal fury: “Hatred as an element of the struggle; a relentless hatred of the enemy, impelling us over and beyond the natural limitations that man is heir to and transforming him into an effective, violent, selective and cold killing machine. Our soldiers must be thus; a people without hatred cannot vanquish a brutal enemy.”

That’s why he went so far as to say that Venezuela and Nicaragua were “indefensible,” accusing their leaders of “playing at democracy” while perpetrating electoral fraud.

Upon his release from prison in 1985, however, Mujica had also freed himself from the mental shackles that justify excess. And he never again yielded to them. That is why, last year, he once again distanced himself from the “dictatorship of the proletariat” entrenched in Cuba for more than 60 years with two words: “It’s useless.” That’s why he went so far as to say that Venezuela and Nicaragua were “indefensible,” accusing their leaders of “playing at democracy” while perpetrating electoral fraud.

That is why, upon leaving his seat in the senate in 2020, he recalled that, although he had many flaws, there was one he was proud of redeeming. “I’m passionate,” he said then, “but I haven’t cultivated hatred in my garden for decades, because I learned a hard lesson that life imposed on me: that hatred ultimately makes us stupid, because it makes us lose objectivity in the face of things. Hate is blind like love, but love is creative, and hatred destroys us.”

Due to ideological distortion and historical inertia, socialists have gardens littered with corpses because resentment has taken over their consciences. Pepe Mujica understood, with a stroke of clarity, that it is impossible to change the world this way. And his lesson is everlasting.

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Mario Vargas Llosa, an Essential and Vital Writer

The Peruvian writer contributed like few others to the universal expansion of Latin America.

Peruvian writer and Nobel Prize winner for Literature Mario Vargas Llosa, in a file photo. / EFE/EPA/Teresa Suárez

14ymedio, Federico Hernández Aguilar, San Salvador, 20 April 2025 — With Mario Vargas Llosa’s passing (1936-2025) the last great exponent of the so-called Latin American boom died, an extraordinary creative and editorial phenomenon that, strictly speaking, should be called the boom of the Spanish-American novel. All of its members were primarily novelists and none were originally from Brazil, Quebec or the French-speaking Caribbean, nor did they write their works in any language other than Spanish, although Julio Cortázar, who was born by chance in Belgium, wrote Les discours du Pince-Gueule (1966) in French, which was later translated into Spanish as Los discursos del Pinchajeta.

With the passing of Vargas Llosa, who died at the height of his fame, the life cycle of a host of writers who enriched the world’s literary landscape comes to an end, as their names moved from editorial obscurity to mass circulation, the thunder of advertising, critical acclaim, awards, and international tours. The protagonists themselves, however, more than once confessed their personal skepticism about the boom.

Cortázar was uncomfortable with such an onomatopoeic term in English, Gabriel García Márquez barely referred to it, and Carlos Fuentes, the only one to dedicate a book to the subject, preferred the title The New Hispanic American Novel (1969). All of them, however, left abundant testimony to the implications of the phenomenon: a break with previous language, an avant-garde update of the reality-fiction binomial, and a clear political (not merely aesthetic) commitment to the historical changes then taking place in the subcontinent.

The Peruvian, in fact, would be the first and the only one who would clamorously disenchant himself from the Cuban revolution with open criticism of the philosophical and anthropological foundations of socialism.

In 1971, Vargas Llosa commented: “What is called the boom, and which no one knows exactly what it is—I personally don’t—is a group of writers—no one knows exactly who either, since each has their own list—who, more or less simultaneously in time, acquired a certain amount of dissemination, a continue reading

certain recognition from the public and critics. This can perhaps be called a historical accident. However, it was never a literary movement linked by an aesthetic, political, or moral ideology. As such, that phenomenon has passed.”

The Peruvian, in fact, would be the first and only to become blatantly disenchanted with the Cuban revolution, openly criticizing the philosophical and anthropological foundations of socialism, an aspect that would bring him numerous ideological and even personal attacks. His editor at Alfaguara, Juan Cruz, maintains that “creating misunderstandings about Vargas Llosa has always been an international sport.”

Curiously, among such numerous detractors, it is rare to find one with sufficient theoretical capacity to refute him in the realm of ideas, either because they ignore or dismiss the ideas from the outset, or because they find it difficult to contradict him based on the knowledge of liberal authors that this requires. (I will address this topic in another column.)

The fact is that Mario Vargas Llosa became, above the rest of his colleagues of the boom, the writer who would exercise the greatest influence as a media personality, from frequent guest appearances on interview programs to prestigious international columnist, passing through theater actor, sports columnist, failed film director, member of official commissions – such as the one he presided over in 1983 to investigate the massacre of journalists in Uchuraccay, (Ayacucho) – and even a jury member of the Miss Universe pageant, on whose panel he was joined, in 1982, by the actor Franco Nero and the illusionist David Copperfield.

The fact is that Mario Vargas Llosa became, above the rest of his colleagues of the boom, the writer who would exercise the greatest influence as a media personality.

The world of show business followed the Nobel Prize winner until his final years, when he made the unexpected, autumnal decision to share a pillow with socialite Isabel Preysler, a star of Spanish celebrity gossip magazines with two divorces under her belt, the mother of five children, and the widow of former minister Miguel Boyer. After this strange relationship broke up in 2022, Vargas Llosa returned to the same house with his wife, Patricia, who was by his side when he died on April 13 in Lima.

The author of The Feast of the Goat, as we know, also lived and suffered the harshness not only of political activism but of active politics. In his youth, following Jean-Paul Sartre’s postulates regarding “commitment,” he seriously adhered to the idea—”persuasive and exhilarating,” he would later say—that the world could be radically improved through empowered humanism and that literature had the obligation to contribute to this process.

In 1966, he stated: “The raison d’être of literature is protest, contradiction, and criticism. The writer has been, is, and will continue to be a malcontent. No one who agrees with the reality in which they live would undertake such a misguided and ambitious enterprise: the invention of verbal realities.” But as early as 1967, in a Letter to the Spokesperson of the Peruvian Communist Party, he argued that if a writer is “deeply committed to his vocation, he will love literature above all else.”

“The reason for literature’s existence is protest, contradiction, and criticism.”

And although between 1987 and 1990 Vargas Llosa worked diligently on a presidential candidacy that ended in a frustrating defeat, we must remember something he had written in 1983 when he published Contra viento y marea (Against Wind and Tide), his first collection of journalistic articles: “Literature, in the end, is more important than politics, which every writer should approach only to block its path, remind it of its place, and counteract its missteps.”

In short, as an imaginative and persevering builder of new realities, that is, as an essential and vital writer, Mario Vargas Llosa contributed like few others to the universal expansion of Latin America, in an unequivocal commitment to that art in which everything can be created “from the truths and lies that constitute the ambiguous human totality.”

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Bullies in the Oval Office

The weak links will be torn out in any geostrategic chain woven in Washington.

“The two highest political officials of the strongest country in the world harassing Ukraine’s president with accusations and finger pointing.” / CNN

14ymedio, Federico Hernández Aguilar, San Salvador, 3 March 2025 — In what some authors call “high politics” or “great politics” – and what others of us prefer to call “politics with a capital P” – there are certain unwritten rules that world leaders must be careful to observe. While several of these implicit rules are rules of substance, there are also rules of form. There may even be circumstances in which substance and form intermingle, leading to bizarre situations with unpredictable outcomes. A few days ago, the whole world witnessed, in the mythical Oval Office of the White House no less, the unprecedented, astonishing, grotesque outcome of the unforgivable neglect of those elementary rules of courtesy and good manners that give politics its greatness.

The president and vice-president of the United States, the biggest global power, were hosting a meeting prior to the signing of an agreement that, according to the leaked press reports, was clearly unfavourable to Ukraine, as it obliged it to return non-refundable money and to allow the exploitation of its mineral wealth, without in return the certainty of minimum security guarantees against the Russian onslaught.

Volodymir Zelensky had rightly warned that such conditions were unacceptable, and Donald Trump had already, among other things, called the Ukrainian president a “dictator”. It is against this tense backdrop, let us not forget, that the meeting we are now discussing was to take place, and which will go down in history as a terrible example of political negotiation. continue reading

In this tense atmosphere, it should not be forgotten, the meeting that we are now commenting on was to take place, and which will go down in history as a terrible example of political negotiation.

When JD Vance spoke of “diplomacy”, it was natural that Zelensky wanted to know what the young vice-president meant by this concept, because it had become clear that this sort of capitulation proposed by Trump did not constitute a “diplomatic” effort for the Ukrainian leader, even less so in the face of a counterpart, Russia, which reneges on signed agreements to exchange prisoners.

This was what the guest respectfully reminded Vance. But it was then that the vice president responded with a rhetorical phrase in poor taste – he said he was referring to “the kind of diplomacy that will put an end to the destruction of your country” – raising his voice to stop Zelensky’s reaction and demanded a respect that his government had not previously shown to a nation that had been the victim of an invasion.

The rest of the conference was disgraceful by any standards: the two highest political officials of the world’s strongest country harassing the Ukrainian president with insults and finger pointing, in a scene that only very fanatical Trumpists would find worthy of the place, the subject matter and the official positions of those assembled there.

Trump’s reckless claim, accusing Zelensky of playing “with World War III”, borders on the surreal. Since when can a country under attack be singled out for starting a planetary conflict? For his part, Ukraine’s leader kept his voice in check, avoided losing his temper but, very importantly, now did he allow himself to be cornered, maintaining a posture of dignity that has been celebrated by the whole of Europe.

It is clear that the US president does not want to enter into moral obligations with Ukraine. The opportunity to ’negotiate’ was therefore perhaps lost for Zelensky beforehand. What this diplomatic fiasco in the White House did demonstrate is that Trump, apart from being (and we already knew this) no champion of democratic ideals, will be deadly aggressive towards those who lack any room to manoeuvre in his eyes. Weak links will be ripped out of any geo-strategic chain concocted in Washington.

What this diplomatic fiasco in the White House did demonstrate is that Trump, apart from being (and we already knew this) no champion of democratic ideals, will be deadly aggressive towards those who lack any room to manoeuvre in his eyes

But even believing they are doing the right thing by leaving Ukraine at Putin’s mercy, Trump and Vance are throwing more than political and military support to a particular Eastern European nation into the pot. The havoc their decision creates (whether prepared in advance or not) has enormous geopolitical effects and an obvious consequence within the US.

The escalation of the Russian-Ukrainian war is bad news even for the White House. This powder keg, if it grows in size, will also shatter the credibility of Trump, who had promised to end the conflict on his first day in office. Hence the importance of the bad negotiating manners exhibited at that press conference: Washington will not be able to blame anyone for its failure and its tragic repercussions.

As a direct result, Donald Trump’s popularity among Americans will suffer in the same proportion. It was already doing so before the 28 February incident; now, after the obvious attempt to encircle Zelensky with two barbs, those numbers are likely to fall even further. And what will the White House do to fix this mess? Will it continue with its implausible tendency to open fronts and make enemies everywhere, risking much more than volatile poll numbers, or will it finally understand that politics with a capital P is also nourished by skill, good manners and even a certain amount of nobility?

Translated by GH

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Cuba Is Yours

Demonstration this July 11 in Alqízar, Artemisa. (Screen capture)

14ymedio, Federico Hernández Aguilar, San Salvador, 22 July 2021 — Cuba is yours, brother. This island belongs to you, sister. Your face is reflected in its waters. In the blue of its skies, the clouds of your dreams are roaming. But in this island land they have wanted — how redundant! — to isolate you, they have wanted to drown your voice for many years, to muzzle your conscience, to force you to embrace a destiny that was not, is not, has never been yours.

For more than six decades, equivalent to the entire life of a human being, hundreds, thousands of Cubans were born, grew up and died breathing a rarefied air, contaminated by the hegemonic discourse of a group of privileged people who came to believe they were eternally in power.

And yet, sister, brother: do you hear, do you perceive, have you seen how the wind has turned on the coasts, have you observed how intensely the sun has renewed itself on the horizon? On July 11, you turned history upside down. You made your footsteps echo from one corner to the other of the island that was always yours and whose possession you now claim.

They were so determined to instill fear in you that they ended up continue reading

snatching it away from you. They never knew how much strength they were giving to your yearning for freedom when they silenced you, when they locked you in cold dungeons, when they covered you with chains. Today they know. Today the fear is theirs.

You have taken the fear out of your little house and put it in their official residences. You no longer tremble; they do. Their power, once so immense, is now blurred, and you have achieved this by putting your feet on the street, joining the spontaneous march of others who have also discovered that the future belongs to them.

José Martí looks at you from the height of his white statue. His thought, lucid, crosses your memory and makes your lungs expand: “Like bones to the human body, the axle to the wheel, the wing to the bird, and the air to the wing, so is liberty the essence of life. Whatever is done without it is imperfect.”

And you have had enough of the imposed imperfections, of the undeserved poverty, of the hunger that eats away at the entrails, of the yearning, the longing, that eats away at the soul.

Martí watches. He greets your heroic deed with the power of a word that tyranny tried to usurp, but that today recovers its original brilliance in the cries of freedom that make your heart vibrate. That hero thus offers you the warmth of his breath; he affirms your ankles; he pushes you to the unprecedented struggle. And you watch him lean from his pedestal to whisper in your ear: “He who lives in an autocratic creed is the same as an oyster in its shell, which only sees the prison that encloses it and believes, in the dark, that this is the world; freedom gives wings to the oyster.”

And it is true, brother, sister of Cuba: you have grown wings. In vain did they think they were going to turn this island into your shell. In moments you have reached the elevation that Martí wished for the people for whom he bled to death at Dos Ríos. Between him and you there is a real, indestructible bridge, stronger than any ideology to connect your aspirations with those of every man or woman who loves and defends freedom, their own and that of others.

Cuba is yours, sister. The nation belongs to you, brother. It is present in that woman who demands bread for her children, in the rebelliousness of that young man who demands respect for his dreams, in the slogan of that group of poets, musicians, journalists, citizens who, together, shoulder to shoulder, go out today to the public square to chant the pair of words that is burying 62 years of opprobrium: “¡Patria Y Vida!” [Homeland and Life].

And so it is. Do not doubt it. Because life is yours, brother, sister of Cuba, yours will also be the homeland!

Translated by: Hombre de Paz

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