Category: Translator: Norma Whiting

The second element in its favor is participation in the script by Leonardo Padura, who has, in recent years, become a fashionable writer inside and outside Cuba, especially since the success of his greatest achievement to date, the novel The Man Who Loved Dogs, a best seller that has sparked what has been termed in literary cliques as “Paduramania”.

Almost the entire cast of the film is composed of experienced and well-known actors such as Isabel Santos, Nestor Jiménez, Fernando Hechavarría and Jorge Perugorría, though it should be noted that the actors do not always come out unscathed from the setbacks imposed on them by the script’s faults and the confinements of the straightjackets their characters embody.

Apart from that, Return to Ithaca is but a mediocre movie that, perhaps with the pretense of presenting the drama of a generation born and raised in the deceit of half a century of a failed Cuban socialist revolution, barely manages a pathetic caricature summarized in the five life stories of resentful and frustrated individuals who do not even come close to representing the spirit of their generation.

The plot, settings, characters and actions turn on stereotypical machinations to the point of lacking credibility and dramatic force. The script is somewhat forced and artificial, in addition to widely appealing to the ease of profanity and vulgarity that, for some, has become “the recourse of Cubanism” in film and literature. It seems that, regardless of what level of education or schooling we Cubans may have, we can only express ourselves through the use of obscene language.

Neither do the characters’ stories reach sufficient depth. They are stiff, synthetic, lacking nuance and not very credible, all of which fail to convey their personal conflicts or to move the viewer’s emotional fiber, thus establishing an atmosphere of distancing between actors and spectators bordering on rejection.

Plot, settings, characters and actions turn out stereotypical machinations to the point of lacking credibility and dramatic force

Amadeo (played by Nestor Jiménez) is the reason for the 50-something reunion of this group of friends. He is a writer who left Cuba to go live in Spain for reasons his friends only find out at the beginning of the movie.

So Amadeo decides to stay in Spain during a working trip to avoid betraying his friend Rafa (played by Fernando Hechavarría), a talented painter who has been harassed and marginalized because of his lack of political commitment to the system. When the reunion takes place, Rafa, who has never asserted himself over the hedge of official censorship, feels bitter about having to survive producing paintings lacking in artistic value for sale to tourists, while Amadeo embodies the misfit émigré who has never been able to write again since his departure, and is now determined to stay in Cuba.

Tania (Isabel Santos) is a doctor specializing in Ophthalmology who, during the so-called Special Period crisis of the 90’s, authorized her minor children’s departure from Cuba. Her decision plunged her into a depression, which she tries to overcome by appealing to her religious beliefs of African origins, as evidenced by the hand of Orula on the bracelet she wears on her wrist. Tania’s debate centers on whether or not she acted correctly when she distanced herself from her children.

Eddy (Jorge Perugorría), manages some enterprise or “firm.” He is a cynic, a hedonist, an opportunist, a parasite, and he is unethical. He travels frequently, he “gets around by car,” constantly gets calls on his cell phone and arrives on the scene with two shopping bags and a bottle of whiskey, a real sign of his status. He is the living image of the great pretender.

Aldo (Pedro Julio Díaz), a character and a perfectly forgettable performance, serves as host for the meeting. He is a frustrated engineer dedicated to the crafting of batteries and just barely making a living, the reason his wife left him to leave the country with an Italian. He is the resigned, conciliatory type, and – together with his mother, with whom he still resides – is one of the plot’s most obvious clichés: a decent and nice Afro-Cuban living in poverty in Central Havana, in a promiscuous environment, surrounded by marginal individuals who sacrifice pigs on the roof terrace next door, of couples who argue loudly from their balcony and of good-natured neighbors who shout out the scores of the baseball game they are watching on TV.

His mother is the kindly black woman who gives good advice, with a scarf wrapped around her head, who makes the best black beans that everyone wants to eat, and who humbly sets the table before leaving the room. She is a shockingly dispensable character.

The cliché of drawings showing El Malecón, the harbor, the Plaza of the Revolution and the Capitol’s cupola are abundant, as silent evidence that the story takes place in Havana, which the same the scenery painted on cardboard could have validated. This almost forces one to remember – in contrast — the masterful way in which Fernando Pérez managed those icons of the Havana environs in his film Suite Havana, where, rather than mere scenes, they are co-stars conveying the spirit of the cityscapes.

What reasons did the commissioners have to censor this poor film during the last film festival in Havana?

Return to Ithaca exudes the oblique, patronizing and folk interpretation of a team of foreign filmmakers and, as such, it’s oblivious to the reality it that wants to present. Therefore, since they are ignorant of the intricacies of such a complex, varied, and nuanced community, the final result offers a superficial and plain view of that reality, unfolding, as a touch of local color, what actually constitutes yet another unfortunate stereotype.

In general, the plot clings to the past — which is really the only element all the characters have in common — by appealing to victimization, to catharsis and to forced conflicts between them, while the Cuban socio-political system, reflected primarily among the memories of the characters, is the invisible villain, the victimizer, flowing from each actor’s lines, though only in the third person, singular: “they sent us to agriculture,” they made us go to the harvest,” “they took us to pick tobacco in the countryside,” “they did not let us listen to The Beatles,” “they fucked up our lives,” and others along the same lines. A non-committal “they did such-and-such to us,” a kind of impersonal culprit entity which is, all at once, the system and nobody, and that allows sneaking the bundle out through the open escape hatch.

And, to put the icing on the cake, there is a version of Return to Ithaca, this calamitous cinematographic accident, that breaks both scenic as well as temporary and situational planes, so that, in some passages, the viewer witnesses a sudden and dramatically useless blackout on the roof, and immediately afterwards, as if by magic, the characters converse with a perfectly lit up Havana in the background, or a roof scene ends and — without a transition — the next scene takes place indoors, with the characters seated around a table in the dining room, savoring Aldo’s mother’s incomparable black beans.

If this disruptive intention was to surprise the viewer, it only serves to baffle him.

In short, when the parade of credits indicates that Return to Ithaca is over (at last!), the viewer can feel a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. Relief, because it will probably convince him that the most wasted 90 minutes of his life are just over. Disappointment, because, just like the very characters in the movie, he will feel deeply cheated. And so perhaps, as it happened to me, he will get up from his chair wondering what reasons the commissioners had to censor this poor film during the last film festival in Havana.

*Orula, a major Orisha in the Afro Cuban religion of Santería, (Yoruba in English), is the future prophet and the counselor of humans.

Translated by Norma Whiting

Perhaps the most famous purifications were the so-called Operación Pitirres en el Alambre (Operation Kingbirds on a Wire) and Operación Adoquín (Operation Cobblestone), which hurled all the fury of Castro I against the peasants of the “free market” and the artisans of the Cathedral Plaza respectively.

The egregious one had decided that those emancipated individuals were becoming too rich, maybe almost as rich as the leaders of the Communist Party. It was necessary to root out evil and demonize the nouveau riche, who were immediately re-christened “flower pots,” imprisoned, dispossessed, prosecuted, and convicted, as a general warning. At the same time, commercial activities of the self-employed were suppressed until the 1990’s, when the crisis stemming from the soviet collapse and the ensuing famine among the Cuban population left the government no choice but to allow their activities once again.

By the mid to late 1990’s foreign investment and capital inflows began, giving a respite to the Castro regime and, at the end of the decade, the almost providential appearance of Hugo Chávez on the stage breathed new life into the regime. It then immediately “froze” the issuing of new licenses for the self-employed sector, while raising taxes on those who already had licenses plus the pressures of inspectors contributed to the contraction of the sector.

Currently, the government has created new support and control mechanisms to keep a short leash on the “private ones”

Currently, with the sector’s most recent revival by the hand of so-called Raulista reforms, the government has created new mechanisms of support and control to keep a short leash on the “private ones.” A large body of inspectors – a whole army of corrupt officials – and a “union of the self-employed” allow for monitoring, keeping individual incomes at low levels while retaining the ability to mobilize on the side of the political discourse. Innate entrepreneurs and the government remain antagonists that tolerate but mutually rebuff one another.

One witness among thousands

Sandra lives in a small town in Matanzas and became self-employed 21 years ago. She is a survivor of that outpost of proto-entrepreneurial Cubans who, in the worst years of the 1990’s, decided to take a risk in tackling the economic crisis under the government’s “opening” for the self-employed. It was then that Sandra was licensed as a seller of handicrafts and other trifles. She was very young then, but she had a nose for business and she was also good with people, so she found a niche in the marketing world, sought and found her own suppliers and soon mastered all the intricacies of the trade, including contacts that alerted her about police and inspection operations within a time frame sufficient to hide far from her selling space anything she was not licensed to offer for sale.

Despite all the alarms, a short while after, she was able to start a small pizza business, baking them in an an old electric oven at a time when any kind of food offered for sale was sure to be a hit. To tell the truth, Sandra sold whatever she found, from clothing, make-up or video equipment to frozen yogurt or plaster ornaments. She found out that she was much better off working by and for herself than continuing at her job as secretary at a government office at an obsolete typewriter, typing information that nobody would read, only to get 148 Cuban pesos a month, while a mere bar of bath soap manufactured in Cuba cost 50 Cuban pesos.

It was much better to work by and for herself than to continue at her job as a government secretary for 148 Cuban pesos a month.

Today Sandra is a veteran self-employed, owns her own home and has forged ahead with her two daughters. However, though she now only sells custom jewelry, just as she is licensed to do, she still feels like she walks the tightrope, and assures us that she cannot make ends meet.

“There is a war against us (the self-employed). Our taxes go up for whatever reason and it is hard to see the benefits. In country towns, like mine, things are even worse. I have to travel to Havana to buy merchandise and bring it home, risking being detained by police, taken to the station and having to justify everything with paperwork. If you don’t have the papers or contacts to come to your aid, they will seize everything. Imagine that! If I bought my merchandise at the government stores, how much would I have to sell it for at home to not only clear a small profit, but just to break even? And to top it all off, the Government invents more legal mechanisms every day to get more money out of you.”

Indeed, in recent years they have increased our taxes briskly. If when she started out Sandra paid the almost symbolic amount of 40 pesos in tax for the sale of small handicrafts, the current monthly tax is 349 pesos per license, plus 10% of sales (which the authorities estimate at over 1,000 pesos a week, implying a tax of 400 pesos each month), plus 60 pesos for social security. Add to that 300 pesos for rent for the site where she conducts her business and she ends up paying 1,109 pesos a month. In addition, there is the annual tax return on sales which must be paid promptly to the National Tax Administration Office (ONAT) each January, which amounts to paying twice for the same sales: monthly and annually.

In recent years the sector taxes have multiplied rapidly

And this is not the only reason why Sandra and many others feel cheated. At the beginning of the so-called “Raulista” reforms, the speech by the General-President stated that the self-employed were honest workers who paid taxes to the government while generating jobs, therefore they deserved all the respect and the rights of any worker. Among those rights, he said, we should recognize their working years to guarantee them a decent retirement.

Sandra was one of the ones who got excited about this news: she already had 20 years under her belt as a self-employed individual paying her taxes under established law. However, she was told at the ONAT that the measure was not retroactive, so if she wished to count those previous years, she should contribute 60 pesos per month for social security for each of the 18 years she had worked before the official law, however, at the ONAT they explained that this measure was not retroactive, so, if she wanted to have those previous years counted she should contribute 60 pesos per month in social security for each one of the 18 years she had worked before the official change, which, translated into hard numbers, would mean paying 12,960 pesos within three calendar months because “we haven’t established any other way to pay.”

Sandra resigned herself to watching the retirement promise go up in smoke: “If I had almost 13 thousand pesos, I would immediately hand it over to my son-in-law to help him build the raft for all of us to get the hell out of here. No matter how I struggle to better my life, I end up screwed.”

“If I had almost 13 thousand pesos, I would immediately hand it over to my son-in-law to help him build the raft for all of us to get the hell out of here”

This year we have seen yet another way to squeeze the self-employed, under the guise of “sub respondents.” This is a note slipped under the crack of the door of the self-employed when the “computer system” decides that the amount declared is less annual income than has actually been received. This document bears the printed amount that “the system” considers correct, and states the exact debt due to the fiscal authorities. If not paid by the established date, the license will be suspended.

However, there is no control mechanism to establish how much each self-employed person has sold in each case, but the estimated amount in question is not subject to appeal. None of the defendants –all the self-employed in Sandra’s hometown – knows by whom or on what parameters those “sub-declarations” are based. She, for instance, has been taxed an extra 1,600 pesos over and above what she has already paid.

“Some of us went to ask that they clarify this for us, because it had never taken place before, but at the ONAT they tell us that they know nothing, that this is established by ‘the system’. I told them that it’s clear that ‘the system’ is the one that’s not working, we can be sure of that! But, how can we change it?

And while Sandra is not one to give up, she confesses that she already feels tired of such an uneven war. She, who has a technological degree in economics, says that the self-employed worker can’t even count on the legal backing of a signed contract. “When you request a license, they hand you a card and that’s it. You don’t sign anything, they don’t tell you any more than what you should pay in taxes and nobody has an obligation towards you, though you do have the obligation to pay on time all the taxes they impose for an amount they determine, though the government does not invest one cent or risk anything. It’s unfair and abusive. And now they also want to force you to pay union dues, and to march and shout slogans!”

Sandra is convinced that this responds to a government strategy to prevent the self-employed sector from growing and consolidating. That is why there are so many obstacles and so much harassment. “We, the self-employed, are just as repressed as the opposition,” she jokes. And she is not far from the truth in this.

“I told them that it’s clear that ‘the system’ is the one that’s not working, we can be sure of that! But, how can we change it?”

On the other hand, neither she nor her fellow associates have legal options, so many are giving up their licenses and choosing between getting jobs as an employee of a more prosperous self-employed person – perhaps one of those who run restaurants or rent rooms to foreign tourists – entering the illegal market (from which many came), or more radically, emigrating however they can and taking their chances far away from the guarantee of poverty they have in Cuba.

“For now, I will not give up my license after 21 years of struggle. I will simply keep up the façade selling the custom jewelry and will have to conduct other business under the table to catch up. If ‘these people’ will not let me breathe while I’m working, I will have to prosper by being inventive. Because if I’m killing myself working, it is logical I should see some profit. It’s not worth it to be legal: they force you to violate laws. But for now, I am seriously thinking that I should leave with my daughters and my son-in-law. There’s not much left for us here.”

Now, when the winds will once again favor foreign investments, Cuban entrepreneurs continue being excluded from all benefits and try to survive the new cycle of simulated suppression they are suffering. Sandra sums up the situation with an illustrative phrase: “When they hand you a license it’s as if you are picking up a machine gun. From that moment on, you will be living in a permanent war: the war of the government against us.”

But Sandra is wrong about this last part, because the government’s war is against all Cubans.

Translated by Norma Whiting

It was no coincidence that several activists of the Cuban independent civil society were harassed upon our arrival at Tocumen airport

Later, there was an official apology issued by the Panamanian Foreign Ministry, but it was also learned that the Cuban regime’s troops of the “civil society” were not ill-treated or warned on their arrival. Perhaps that was why they immediately began to distribute, through the hotels hosting delegates from dozens of countries, printed leaflets containing the photographs and full names of various members of the Cuban dissidence, under the heading of “mercenaries.” A great number of the tabloids were placed on tables in the lobby of the hotel El Panama, where credentials were being processed, while other activists handed them out in the streets around the headquarters, where activities of the Summit would take place.

Thus, encouraged by the permission – the complicity, I should say – of the hosts and organizers of the Summit, the revolutionary low-lives who were further protected by the dozens of accreditations that were granted to them, felt free to create violent disturbances right in the meeting room, rudely attacking the scarce representatives of several independent organizations on the Island that had barely achieved accreditation from the Civil Society Forum on behalf of dozens of contenders who were denied the opportunity to participate.

Some public places were also the scenes of Castro mobs, sabotaging the democratic and civilized spirit that should have been expected from this hemispheric event.

It was a poor choice on the part of these guests to the democratic festivity, Messrs. hosts, and if such is the model of civility that we want to imitate in the region, a very bad effect. But worse are the results for the regime in Havana, whose objective was always to boycott the Summit and blow up the spaces for dialogue, but in attempting to demonstrate the supposed low aspect of its opposition, it ended up demonstrating its own, additionally granting its opponents the chance to show their moral superiority. Now the democrats in the region may be wondering about the stateless group who have sustained decades of peaceful struggle against the enormous machine of violence that has been brought to bear against them from the seat of power.

Worse yet are the results for the Havana regime, whose original purpose was always to boycott the Summit and blow up the spaces for dialogue

A great number of the delegates offered their solidarity to the Cuban civil society and commented to us about their bewilderment. “If this is the way it is in the midst of this forum and at a democratic venue, what must they be able to get away in Cuba,” commented a group of young people from several Latin American nations.

A somber sixty-something man shook his head disapprovingly: “This is not right … It is not proper … We cannot allow it,” he said, referring to the performance of Castro followers and supporters.

Our spontaneous embraces in the hotel lobby, to demonstrate support for each other among members of the independent civil society made a better impression than all the shouting and screaming of slogans of the crazed members of the regime. The aggression had only succeeded in uniting us beyond any differences.

It was also made clear that a dictatorship that has sustained itself on confrontation and belligerence, inside and outside its own geographical territory, would not be able to overcome the challenge posed by the open debate and arguments of its opponents. Weeks ago the General-President had already announced that “the true Cuban civil society would come to the Summit to defeat the stateless mercenaries at the service of the Empire,” thus demonstrating their absolute lack of political willingness to respect the diversity of ideas and alternative projects of the very Cubans on the Island.

Well then, General, your serfs – those same strident individuals who carry out your acts of repudiation, whose passports were confiscated as soon as they crossed the border into Panama in order to avoid inopportune desertions – withdrew from the Summit as soon as they fulfilled their wretched role. It did not matter that the Cuban State spent its people’s ever-scarce resources to finance documents, travel, accommodations, food, and a huge amount of printed pamphlets. Nothing will prevent the end of its empire of corruption and fear.

I can imagine how its “victorious” delegation will be welcomed when it returns to the ridiculed homeland. I can almost imagine the team leader, submissively bowing his prop epaulettes: “Mission accomplished, General.” And just the thought of such a degrading image overwhelms me with two conflicting feelings: compassion and contempt.

Translated by Norma Whiting

After the first moments of surprise and with each other’s positions set out on the table about the decision to reestablish diplomatic relations between Cuba and the US, most Cubans are sure that the regime is not prepared to face, in a satisfactorily manner, an honest debate on democracy and human rights, and much less is willing to compromise on its stubborn refusal to recognize areas of rights which would inevitably lead to the end of its power.

But, with the same certainty and for the sake of honesty, we must recognize that we still have major obstacles to overcome in the independent civil society, starting with the one that will be, without a doubt, an essential premise: to agree on our consensus, leaving aside our differences – derived from political partisanships, ideologies, autocratic individuals and other personal agendas — that have divided us and prevented further progress over decades.

In politics, time is a fundamental asset we Cubans tend not to figure into our calculations, being accustomed as we are to half a century of stagnation.

To leave behind political adolescence and suddenly attain adulthood to achieve a common front that amplifies the democratic demands of Cubans which several generations have been struggling for under difficult conditions is not impossible, as evidenced by debate and consensus forums in the past two years. However, achieving a single agenda capable of meeting the essential requirements of all sectors of the civil society will not be easy, particularly for those who are more reluctant to dialogue and have opted instead for a confrontational stance.

It may seem premature to put on the table an issue that depends, in the first place, on the combination and coordination of many as yet unknown issues. But in politics, time is a fundamental asset we Cubans tend not to figure into our calculations, being accustomed as we are to half a century of stagnation.

Obviously, President Obama’s willingness to support civil society does not imply — or at least it should not imply — the government’s direct intervention in financing or selecting the actors who participate in the hemispheric conclave. Presumably, taking as a sign his own statements when he recognized that Cuban issues belong first of all to Cubans, his government’s commitment should be to support the proposals we make, and should include those who do not live in Cuba but who are part of the nation’s heartbeat.

In that case, it would be advisable to start a process of discussion and consultation now with participants in the independent civil society groups and leaders of opinion, journalists, activists of all existing projects, and those individuals or organizations — whether from the opposition or any civic venue — who may have ideas to contribute to the agenda.

It is time to show that we are partners in the dialogues that are sketching all our destinies.

We should not be seeking unanimity, but trying to consolidate unity in those essential points we agree on, and readying our proposals, both in a plausible memo to present at the Americas Summit and in a representation that could encompass, more inclusively and justly, the whole range of organizations and trends of the independent civil society. At the same time, we must give up our presumptions and embrace modesty for the common good.

Unfortunately, we have witnessed the persistence of intolerant positions in recent events, verbal violence and contempt for those ideas different to our own, something that is inherent to a society that has been, for a long time, tense and controlled by a regime that has sown totalitarianism and intimidation as valid methods to prevail, which a handful of democrats seem to want to perpetuate.

These actions, which have been carried out against the public image of a dissidence characterized mainly by its posture of peaceful struggle and respect for differing views, should be banished from the discussions if we wish to strengthen and achieve standing and recognition inside and outside Cuba. It is time to show that we are partners in the dialogues that are sketching all our destinies.

In short, what is truly important is, after all, to be prepared for the occasion that is politically being offered to us. It is a matter of commitment, not a easy ride, and whoever will end up representing us in this or any other international forum should feel the great historical responsibility they assume, and be worthy of the trust of all those who have committed their forces and pinned their hopes on the future of democracy in Cuba.

Translated by Norma Whiting

In principle, I do not share the preeminence granted by the author to the opposition’s polarization in “two tendencies” following the announcement of the restoration of diplomatic relations between the US and Cuban governments. In any case, whether or not one agrees or disagrees with the proposals of President Barack Obama on the subject of the dialogue established with the Cuban regime, that cannot be the focus of the political aspirations of the civil society, and should be accepted as “the watershed “to define two opposing parties in the opposition: those opposed to the approach and who feel the Cuba-US dialogue will “legitimize” the Cuban regime, and those who understand that this could expand the possibilities of the Civil Society within the Island.

The fact that those who choose to bet on the gradual change and seek the opportunities a new scenario might bring to us have assumed — without prior agreement and without caucusing the subject — a common ethical positioning in key aspects, which can be summarized in two main points: 1. The solution of the Cuban problems and the achievement of democracy concerns only Cubans and does not depend on the will or the policies of any foreign government. 2. We have not disqualified, verbally assaulted, provoked or offended anyone who does not share our views.

We have not disqualified, verbally assaulted, provoked or offended anyone who does not share our views.

That is why we need to appreciate that González Rodiles’s writing has finally realized that “both positions demonstrate our commitment to democracy and the end of totalitarianism”, which infers the disavowal of the discredit of contradictory opinions.

So one thing is to agree or disagree with the negotiations between the two governments and quite another is the subject of Open Space and the Four Points, which exclude consideration to suggest the shortest link between our democratic aspirations and decisions of the US government. Mixing both issues in the same discussion introduces confusion, besides not conforming to reality, which is evident, for example, in statements such as the following: “Obama’s policy is applauded by those joined together in the Open Space, which has several visible elements.”

The truth is that not everyone involved in Open Space “applauds “what the author generically called “Obama’s policy.” Nor is it clear what these so-called “visible elements” are, which only reinforce inaccuracies in the writing. I will take this opportunity to remind you that the Open Space began well before our learning about talks between the governments of the US and Cuba.

In another topic, and strictly political in nature, González Rodiles suggests that those at Open Space who are committed to dialogue, who lend “legitimacy to the regime” do not propose “preconditions for the political process” accept “that the transition process will be (…) in the hands of the actors of the regime, which presupposes that they will be part of the future of the Island” and consider “the democratic changes will come as the evolution of supposed economic transformations” introduced by the regime itself under the pressure of measures proposed by the US government.

Obviously, such a position ignores the experiences of other transitions, which have been successful precisely because they have been conducted in a peaceful and civilized manner within the existing social order, based on dialogue and negotiations with elements of the very regimes in power. Such is the case of the exemplary Spanish transition that owes so much to Adolfo Suárez; the transition in Poland, which brought to the negotiating table Solidarity, the powerful opposition syndicate and other actors of the Civil Society, in addition to Wojciech Jaruzelski; or the Chilean transition which allowed for its dictator, Augusto Pinochet, to remain as permanent senator, just to name only the best known examples.

Other transitions have been successful because they were conducted in a peaceful and civilized manner within the existing social order

Achieving peace through political negotiation is not only less traumatic, but also achieves more permanent effects, though it unavoidably involves certain concessions, and offers certain guarantees that are advantageous for both parties.

The only possible alternative to a negotiated solution is confrontation. But, let’s face it, do the opposition and the Independent Civil Society in Cuba have the strength and sufficient resources to face down a government and force it to relinquish its power? A government that controls the army, the police, and all repressive bodies and economy? Certainly not. In fact, we have not even managed to be included in any of the dialogues that have taken place on the release of political prisoners, despite the critical and always meritorious action of the Ladies in White movement for more than a decade, which, despite its value, has failed, so far, in having people join in their marches or outright reject the repression against them.

It is not only that “the government does not acknowledge us” but about the weakness we display. Because, while the government, with all its totalitarian power, has no real legitimacy because it has not been freely chosen by the “sovereign people,” we have not been chosen as representatives of the people either, since, for whatever reason, we have failed to lay a solid foundation among Cubans, therefore we have no summoning power. In whose “sovereign people’s” name would we be acting, especially when they are trying to deny our capabilities?

“Human rights and the promotion of democracy, as primary objectives, should not be masked by other elements. They must be shown especially to the Cuban people, confused after 57 years of dictatorship, so they can decide in what direction they want to take this country.” (Underlined as emphasis by this writer.) This assertion by González Rodiles rules out that the possibility to economically prosper is one of those human rights and is also one of the most expedient to empower Cubans and promote their conversion into independent subjects of the State-Party-Government, and it is contained in one of the United Nations Covenants whose demand for government ratification almost all of civil society has subscribed to. By the way, raising a formal complaint to the Government, presented to the National Assembly, isn’t that also a way of legitimizing the regime?

But, continuing with the author’s statement –- numerically incorrect, since Cuba has already endured 63 years of dictatorship — the core messianic vision to be taught is that it is essential to teach what one should know (because, obviously, he does not know) to these “confused” peoples, who are unable to choose their destiny for themselves and are, therefore, condemned to the possibility that some individual, touched by a kind of divine wisdom, will guide them in the right direction, as F. Castro was able to do in his day. Ergo, the immature people of this country need a new messiah… one in whom we can supposedly be able to and should trust. In that sense, it is reassuring that the Roadmap states: “We will not join the construction of a new authoritarianism”. It is a real relief; I know that neither will we, the ones of Open Space.

It is true that Four Points favors the benefits to be derived from “alleged economic transformations,” but considers them as a potential tool for strengthening an emerging civil society which would add players — not necessarily politically active subjects — to the process of change. Those of us who had the opportunity to speak face-to-face with Roberta Jacobson during her recent stay in Havana expressed our interest in promoting, concurrent with the plans for economic empowerment of Cubans, mechanisms that will allow exercising our human rights, such as freedom of the press, of expression, of information and of association, all essential instruments of democracy which must be placed in everyone’s reach.

We are facing a dilemma that makes us choose between blindness and pragmatism; between belligerence as an end in itself or the lucidity to drive change

But today we are facing a dilemma that makes us choose between blindness and pragmatism; between belligerence as an end in itself or the lucidity to take any of the routes that could be opened to drive change, even if it meant deliberating with our adversaries. This is how politics functions, which is not an exact science but social, so it is based on a rational choice in which all players must replace any preferences or personal interests with the interests of the nation and of Cubans in general.

One of the Four Points includes the claim of “free, democratic and competitive elections” and “recognition of the legitimacy of the independent Cuban civil society within the Island and in the diaspora as a valid spokesperson” so that the charge of “ambiguity “or “lack of transparency” that we have been accused of is, at least, futile.

If politics, in its most succinct definition, is the art of turning the possible into reality, how to achieve a social contract where we are recognized, when there are factions among us particularly interested in preventing any possible consensus, however small? How will our enemies not disqualify us if, within the ranks of the civil society there are elements that refuse to recognize the “others”? What does González Rodiles mean by “discuss with complete clarity,” “serious and direct debate,” “maturation of the actors and the political scene” or the need for “certain political trust among stakeholders” when, in fact, he himself refuses to participate in meetings where he presupposes that there is a conspiracy against him? Conspiracy that, in addition, already reached international borders, since it suggests that US authorities “give preference” to those who approve of its new policy of non-confrontation and exclude those who do not share in it. I call here for restraint and modesty.

It would be extremely extensive to exhaust in a single article all easily refuted topics in González Rodiles’s speech, so I prefer to wrap up by commenting on a criticism about Four Points which turns amphibological; i.e. that the same could be applied to his Roadmap. This is the supposed sin of not tracing a “methodology” “to achieve one’s goals.” For some reason, he did not understand that Four Points is not exactly an itinerary or an agreement document, but a consensus position which we hope will help us advance the delicate path of future councils.

But the truth is that the strategy with which the Roadmap is expected to reach was not exposed either, which in itself is inconsistent, even with the title of the document. What will be the next stop or destination of that Map? Peccadillo.

I don’t mean to wear myself out in a sterile confrontation; there is too much work to do. When González Rodiles proposed “To speak with one voice” perhaps I was thinking something like “Speaking with my voice,” which is not bad, as long as he doesn’t intend to possess the gift of absolute truth to save us all. The effort is appreciated, but, personally, I decline such a legacy. Following the musical analogy he proposed, I already belong to a larger orchestra, fortunately dissonant, called Cuba.

Translated by Norma Whiting

These are virtually the only two currency exchanges operating in the municipality of Centro Habana after most of them were converted to ATM’s, so both exchange of hard (i.e. foreign) currency to Cuban convertible currency (CUC) as well as CUC to CUP implies traveling to some CADECA or to Banco Metropolitano, both located at some distance, and the likelihood of having to stand on long lines before being able to complete the desired transaction.

Another difficulty that has become common in both CADECA and ATM locations is the absence of bills in denominations smaller than 100 or 50 CUP, which also distresses the population, especially the elderly, who receive their pensions in debit cards and are often unable to withdraw all of their money, since there are no 5 or 1 peso bills available. In these cases, they need to wait a whole trimester or quarter until enough funds accumulate in their accounts to cover the minimum denominations of 10 or 20 CUP, a ridiculous amount compared to the high price of any market product, but what is significant is that the affected individuals depend almost entirely on this income.

Since the start of 2015, Cubans who receive remittances from abroad or convertible pesos by other means are quick to exchange their money into the national currency. Those who receive larger amounts – on the order of 100’s of CUC, in general the owners of more thriving private business — prefer to use the black market to exchange their funds into US dollars. The common denominator is that nobody wants to hold CUC money, which, until recently, was in high demand and CADECAS would even often run out of.

Announcement of a new national currency bill being issued into circulation in February, in 200, 500 and 1000 peso denominations, coupled with the ability to access the former “hard currency market” with either money, has sounded the drum-roll in people’s psyche as a prelude to the much anticipated monetary unification. People fear that an official changeover will take place that will carry penalizing fees that will cause serious losses to people’s pockets.

Fear is running throughout the population that an official changeover will take place suddenly, with extremely high fees that would produce serious loses to their pockets

The expectation is felt, by osmosis, in the capital’s agricultural trade networks, especially in meat markets that are not “state-owned”, where either one of the two currencies was accepted a few weeks ago. “Mother of Mercy, give me national currency!” is the butcher’s cry at Combinadito de Sitios in Centro Habana when a customer brings out 20 CUC to pay for a cut of pork meat whose price these days of non-ration cards has risen to 45 Cuban pesos per pound. “Country farmers don’t want CUC, my brother, they have a lot of money** and are really afraid of the monetary unification. They won’t sell me meat unless I pay in national currency”.

Something similar is happening with peddlers with street carts, who still accept payment in “convertible” currency for retail sales, but their wholesale suppliers are demanding payment in national currency for their products. A street peddler in my neighborhood states “farmers have high incomes and almost all producers have accumulated large sums. None of them wish to lose when the currency is unified”.

The lack of information and clarification from the official media creates uncertainty and speculation in the population.

It is evident that, once more, the lack of information and clarification on the part of the official media are causing uncertainty and spreads speculation throughout the population, giving way to obstacles such as the (unexplained) shortage of cash in the CADECA, increasing the demand for US dollars in the black market foreign exchanges.

With the imminent introduction of the new denomination bills, clear evidence of the very high inflation rate in Cuba, nothing is known about a monetary unification that -according to official notification- will be gradual and will “not affect” Cuban pockets. For now, it is expected that, when it takes place, the official exchange rate of 25 pesos in national currency for each CUC will not continue, a transaction with which the CADECA and the state commercial networks have operated to date. Our experience, after decades of deceptive monetary maneuvers, has motivated the popular wisdom so that, already, before the dreamed about monetary unification, Cubans are shedding was has been the last few years’ supreme sign of Cuba’s status: the CUC.

Translator’s notes:

*See here for a longer discussion of the history of Cuba’s currencies and the plan to move to a single currency. Briefly, Cuba has two currencies: Cuban pesos, also called moneda nacional (national money), abbreviated CUP; and Cuban convertible pesos, abbreviated CUC. In theory CUCs are a hard currency, but in fact, it is illegal to take them out of Cuba and they are not exchangeable in other countries. Cubans receive their wages and pensions primarily in CUPs, with wages roughly the equivalent of about $20 US per month, and pensions considerably less. The CUC is pegged 1-to-1 to the American dollar, but exchange fees make it more expensive. The CUP trades to the CUC at about 24-to-1. 

**It has been a common practice in other tightly controlled countries, when new currencies are introduced, to limit the total amount of money people are allowed to exchange and/or to require documentation of the sources of larger sums. As the old currency becomes instantly worthless domestically and internationally, people who have been ‘hoarding’ it can see almost all their savings disappear. Cubans fear this could happen with the elimination of the CUC.

Translated by Norma Whiting

Last January 5^th, the official Cuban press published a call of the State Council to the midterm elections, “as established in the Constitution of the Republic and Law #72 of October 29, 1992” in which delegates to the municipal assemblies of the People’s Power will be “chosen” for a “mandate” of two and a half years, subject to revocation.

The next day, the 17 members of the National Electoral Commission took up their positions and received appropriate accreditation. They must “organize, manage and validate the electoral acts”.

Granma newspaper reported the start of a “political and strengthening process on the 55^th Anniversary of the CDR [Committees for the Defense of the Revolution]”, at the municipal level, as part of which  “assemblies at the popular board level” were held on January 8^th, and on the 12^th, they were held “at all zones of the CDR’s.” Such assembly process sought to “improve the functioning of the leadership structures of the CDR” from the grassroots level –on each city-block up to the municipal and zone-specific committees, and at the same time the “conditions of individuals who occupy charges at different levels of management” were evaluated. According to the national CDR coordinator, Carlos Rafael Miranda Martínez, this process ensured, among other objectives, “to help support the election process and the incorporation of young people.”

Election campaigns and political parties are expressly prohibited, but the PCC really runs the election process de facto

The first round of the process will take place on April 19^th, 2015, the second round, “at those constituencies where none of the candidates have obtained more than 50% of the valid votes cast,” on the 26^th.

The current Electoral Law in Cuba states that any citizen can be nominated as a candidate for delegate by a show of hands in the assemblies of each constituency, and subject to popular vote at the polls to exercise that capacity. Election campaigns and political parties are expressly forbidden, so it’s not a requirement that delegates and deputies belong to the Cuban Communist Party (PCC), but the PCC really runs the election process, plus governs the country de facto. Therefore, all levels of government of the popular power are subordinate to the PCC. In fact, party militancy is often a relevant qualification when proposing a candidate for delegate.

In the succinct proposal process, selection of the candidates and voting for the delegates of the electoral districts, all “democratic possibilities” are exhausted. Cubans are deprived of their legal capacity to choose, not just a President to rule the country for a reasonable defined period, but they won’t be able to opt directly for governor of their municipal district, city, or the province where they reside.

The “delegate” thus embodies the living exponent of the beginning and the end of the (popular) citizen power in Cuba. In this way, from the actual implementation of the first revolutionary electoral system, established in 1976, Cubans have strictly voted for a district representative – barely a portion of a neighborhood – whose function is mainly centered on receiving complaints from his constituents and passing down to them the decisions or guidelines emanating from the Municipal Assembly. That’s where the functions and powers of electors and elected at the grassroots level cease.

A possible ban on using the Little Pioneers as agitators often sent by the presidents of polling stations to citizens’ homes to go to the polls

A few days after the decree for partial elections in April 2015, seminars have begun to be taught in the capital to those called “trios” – composed of three individuals, members of the Communist Party, subject to the municipal committee of the PCC – who are responsible for driving and controlling the grassroots electoral process.

At these seminars, the trios are being instructed in the new guidelines that will begin to be applied to Cuban elections, whose main component is the addition of two new figures: the observer and the supervisor. This information has not been published in the official media. Also not published to the seminar attendees is what organizations will be in charge of watching and supervising the elections in order to validate their transparency.

At this point we could only speculate that the Cuban government requested the presence of observers from allied organisms as the Community of Latin American and Caribbean States (CELAC) or the Bolivarian Alliance for the Peoples of Our America (ALBA), since Cuba is not a member of the Organization of American States, an institution that has its own mechanisms for such effects. This will allow the Cuban government to evade the direct supervision of those entities more discerning in matters of democracy.

Another detail of these elections will possibly be banning the use of the Little Pioneers (i.e. children) as agitators, who are often sent by the presidents of the polling station to citizens’ homes to get them out to the polls, a practice guided by the directorate of the municipalities of the PCC to each electoral table, which has been in effect since the establishment of the system.

“In these elections, voters will not be able to be pressured to go to the polls so that election stations may close early,” an instructor of a seminar directed a large group of trios at the Centro-Habana municipality. He also made implicit reference to the coercion that has been exerted on the electorate – who sometimes vote as to “not stand out,” so their own will not be harmed, or with lesser knowledgeable sectors who might believe that voting is a mandatory exercise – when he stated that a voter may show up when he decides to do so, and that they should not be pressured into being forced to come out and vote. If 10 show up, then it will end up being 10. Whatever. Nobody is required to vote.”

Translated by Norma Whiting