Palace of the Revolution. Photo taken from the Internet
These days of rest, when I have not even had the nerve to open my machine and write, have instead been used to think about the Cuban reality, present, future and my own assumptions. Friends and enemies have branded me as inflexible on more than one occasion, or at least as excessively caustic. And they’re right. Not in terms of my usual bitterness about the government: I reiterate every invective and criticism I have dedicated to the autocracy, and multiply my bitterness towards it exponentially. I do not like it, do not approve of it at all, and will fight against it in my surly style as long as I am alive; I have a deep contempt for this and other dictatorships, and I refuse to serve or obey the regime.
But I’ve also been a bit unfair in my judgmental ratings towards my countrymen, especially when I attack what I consider to be the people’s excessive passivity and docility. Permanent helplessness has a dulling effect on the senses that prevents any clearly formulated proposal. In conversations with some friends that I’ve been nursing these days, I have been pleased to see that people are neither so weak nor so blind; they just have not found the way. Many are not permissive, but fearful. The characteristics of dictatorships are magnified in the people’s imagination; they look larger and more powerful than they really are. Now that image is beginning to crack.
One example is a friend of mine, who, without my suspecting it, is a regular reader of blogs on the Voces Cubanas platform. I did not even realize that, for years, she has known what I do, and is a regular fan who urges her son, — a twenty-something young man — to put everything in digital form that is published in the independent web, including sites of Estado de SATS and recordings of Razones Ciudadanas, among others. For my part, I had not spoken to her about my political views or of my dissident activities, though my opinions are well known and are even shared among all my friends. I do not like to scare people, but the opposite effect was evident in her: “since I’ve read your posts, since I found out all about and what you do, I’m less afraid. Each time I’m more convinced that the only way to fight this government is to stop playing its game. I want my children to know something besides this, a Cuba different from ours”.
So, I made a mistake too. I have underestimated the power of freely expressed opinions, I have underrated the scope –- limited, yet inexorable — of the independent press and the individual will of the disobedient, and I have overestimated the fear of Cubans. This friend is a member of the Communist Party, one additional faker, but she has also been, for a long time, a silent activist who has taken to her workplace, her friends and family nucleus, recorded on disks and flash drives, the whole spectrum of opinions currently stirring in Cuba, especially anti-government views.
Additionally, I have recently become convinced of the power of believing in our own strength. We, the disobedient, are not an “underground” phenomenon. We walk with our heads held high, and make public our meetings, aspirations and opinions. The government is the one underground, locked away in its palaces, plotting its own conferences and laws. Hidden are the power lords, fearful that people might find out what they are scheming, terrified in the presence of the effects of whatever measure they might propose, disconcerted at the slightest possibility that Cubans might have access to information. It is true that people are afraid, but the masses are generally more ignorant than cowardly. The ruling Cubans are actually the real pack of cowards who hide behind the force that gives them absolute power to suppress and prevail. However, they survive in a permanent state of shock, mistrusting even their own followers. Therefore, I ask Cubans, at least those whom I misjudged, to forgive me. You are in hiding, we are in the open, but, at the end of the day, we are all on the same side.
Facade of the Emergency Center at Calixto Garcia Hospital. Photo taken from the Internet.
Anyone who still harbors any hope about the niceties of the health system in Cuba has only to get sick and go see a doctor. It’s not hard at all, taking into consideration the number of rare diseases circulating among us these days, just within reach. And there are other illnesses, already endemic, such as dengue fever, that are here to stay and thrive in our environment, reinforced year after year by the arrival of returning missionaries, laden with new diseases to share, and those students benefitting from the rapidly dwindling ALBA programs, who are still bringing us new strains of diseases that are becoming endemic on the Island.
In recent days I was one of the “lucky” ones to receive the collateral benefit of the Castro comradeship. I acquired — I don’t know how or where — a strange virus that caused me three days of high fever and a total of 10 days of nausea and vomiting. My stomach barely tolerated a bit of water and some cold juices, and just three or four days ago I resumed my normal eating habits. Of course, my healthy constitution, my size and my good diet allowed me to firmly support the onslaught and survive the experience with sufficient strength: I scarcely lost a few pounds. Others have not been that lucky. I inquired among friends and acquaintances and learned that there are dozens of people who have been admitted for dehydration and were given IV’s. No one has obtained an accurate diagnosis for this disease and everyone is exposed to contract it, since no one knows for sure how it spreads. In the consulting rooms, doctors look at you with almost commiseration and pronounce the ever-cryptic same old sentence: “it’s a virus”.
I suppose that studying and practicing medicine in Cuba has become a game both mystical and very simple at the same time: everything that is not dengue, is “a virus”, and everything, including dengue fever, is treated in the same way: plenty of fluids and rest. So here we are.
In any case, a quick visit to the Calixto García Emergency Teaching Hospital finally convinced me that the dazzling showcase of public health, a bastion of the regime’s propaganda, is definitely broken. The building, recently repaired, has the same chaotic look as everything in the country: patients lying on stretchers in the middle of the waiting room for everyone to see, empty consulting rooms, doctors with expressions of bewildered astonishment and confusion, talking among themselves as if patients were merely basic means and unfortunate diagnoses, such as what I got, when the little doctor who barely looked at me ventured to pronounce a diagnosis without labs or any other additional tests: kidney infection. I don’t have to tell you that I did not follow his indications for antibiotics, and I ended up where I should have started, asking my doctor friend to accompany me to which she kindly agreed, to order blood tests so dengue fever infections could be ruled out and conclude with the same enigmatic little word “virus”.
“Stay home. Don’t go to hospitals unless absolutely necessary. Thank God you’re strong and you’re getting better. No one knows what and how many diseases we now have, and for seven months there is a dengue epidemic that hasn’t been declared nor will it ever be declared. The health system has collapsed, medical ethics is in the process of extinction, and the only hope is that all this too shall pass. Stay home, friend, and may God protect us so we can see how this will all end, because what we need to do, is survive it.”
Santana Cartoon illustrating the post in Penúltimos Days
A European friend who recently visited Havana asked me what my greatest wish for this year 2012 was. Of course, she expected me to express to her the same old litany: the end of the dictatorship, democracy, peace, freedom, etc. The wishes that tens of thousands of Cubans have made each New Year’s and that, despite all the sorrows, have yet to come true. Maybe the propitiatory spirits, those that presumably participate or influence human aspirations need to perceive something more than the resolve in those who make the wishes… a signal indicating a little more vigor to make dreams achievable, something that can fulfill that old saying: “Help yourself, and God will help you.”
So I simply said to my friend that, for 2012, I wish to see Cuba full of angry people, for it is on that day that we will be closer to such longed for rights and democracy. I’m not referring to childish protests of indignation on any corner or line, in different tones of voice and willing to be silent when some guy who looks like a political cop stares us down; for State transportation problems, or for the increasing reduction of so-called “subsidies” the national method, distributor of the parameters of poverty. Neither do I speak of the more or less biased comments about “how bad this is getting”. For at least 20 years I have been listening to the phrase “what’s so good about this is how bad it’s getting”, or “never is the night as dark as before dawn”, and in all that time, there hasn’t been the slightest improvement or light. What’s more, everything around us is sure to be getting worse and darker, so it is obvious that a change is needed, but not on the part of an autocracy that clings to power and naturally resists change. What is needed is a change of attitude among Cubans.
My greatest desire for this 2012 is, therefore, that ordinary Cubans, those who in all the speeches are grouped under the generic term “the people” decide, once and for all, to make their outrage public and evident. We could, for example, protest in the streets, or in front of government headquarters, to demand an end to the dual currency, since wages are paid in one currency and most products are marketed in another. By the way, it would also be relevant to demand that wages dignify the job, be a source of well-being and not the object of a joke printed on paper money. We could demand the repeal of the retrograde exit permits and all limits on emigration that keep us prisoners, slaves of the Island-plantation. We could reclaim the sacred right to information, the right for the flow of ideas, to participate in making decisions about our destiny, to choose what kind of education we give our children. We could make demands, in short, about how and by whom we wish our country to be governed.
If you think that such claims exceed the heights of indignation of some, perhaps we could start by protesting the unstoppable rise of food prices, or stand up to the abuse of most public officials, or publicly denounce corruption, which ends up striking the needy the hardest. We could just ask to have the CDR’s disbanded, (those that are still members of the CDR’s [cederistas]) or stop attending accountability meetings and the utmost caricature of democracy: the constituency “elections”. Because — beyond the protests taking place in the First World which the official media have the nerve to disclose here — and if there is one thing we don’t have a shortage of in Cuba it’s a reason to be outraged.
So I modified my wishes for this year, believing that, for democracy to finally emerge, we Cubans need to stop looking outward and upward, waiting for solutions from the solidarity of others, from the Cuban government, or from God, and assume our share, through responsibility and law. Recent statements by the President-General — on the occasion of his counterpart’s farewell, the Iranian dictator visiting Cuba, to our shame — that the Communist Party’s National Conference, to be held on January 28th, will be just the organizing of the inner life of that (political?) organization, presumably to comply with the guidelines of the past VI Congress, lends the coup de grace to the aspirations of large sectors that still had moderate expectations for a public debate about the decisions of the government, including some Catholic Church sites that have been voicing for an “inclusive and transparent” dialogue between the government and the Cuban people. It will be interesting, given the circumstances, to follow those sites’ editorials to find out what new proposal they make us.
So, what I want for 2012 is this: indignant people. Thousands and thousands of Cubans angry about over half a century’s worth of fraud, outraged, if only to salvage the spoils of our national shame that still remain after decades of dictatorship.
—– Work originally published in Penúltimos Days (http://www.penultimosdias.com) on January 13rd, 2012
Photograph by Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo, taken from his blog, Lunes de Postrevolución (Post Revolution Mondays)
On the night of Tuesday January 17th, 2012, an uninhabitable but lived-in building at the corner of Infanta and Salud streets in Centro Habana collapsed, taking with it the lives of four teenagers.
If the disaster had occurred on a side street, away from the capital’s busiest traffic, it is possible that only those of us who reside in this municipality would have found out. After all, these incidents have become commonplace in the city. But it took place there, loud and undisguised, in the middle of Calzada Infanta, one of the busiest roads in the capital. For this reason, and because, thanks to Cuban twitterers, the event was public knowledge for the entire world to know, the Cuban press covered the news. They did so neither to mourn the death of the teens, nor to explain the reasons justifying that there are entire families occupying buildings on the verge of collapse in the entire realm of this battered city. No. The revolutionary press took advantage of the tragedy to highlight the importance of the involvement of the Fire Department, the National Revolutionary Police, the Emergency Medical Services and the authorities of Centro Habana and Plaza de la Revolución province and municipalities. They were, judging by the media, the true central characters. Human tragedy was dwarfed and paled in comparison to the greatness of the revolutionary institutions.
Summary of Granma‘s article of Thursday, January 19th, 2012, p. 2: “Intense and coordinated action” of “the forces of Fire and Emergency Medical Services in the rescue of victims and in the effort to save the lives of those who were trapped”, as if those were not exactly the expected roles of such organizations, or as if building collapses were an act of God, or just an architectural whim; something by chance, unexpected, unpredictable or capricious.
The most painful thing, besides the always tragic deaths of young people, is the indifference of the onlookers crowded around the rubble. Most people’s faces, beyond the superficial impact and compassion for victims and survivors, only amounted to reflect their relief: “thank God it did not happen to me”, as if this were not everyone’s tragedy. Selfishness is one of the most genuine products of this system.
At this stage of the game, we can attribute to the revolution the peculiarity of having contributed to this nation what can be summed up as just three of the main causes of death of Cubans in these last few decades, not to delve into other causes: the thousands of deaths from drowning or shark attacks in the Straits of Florida, the deaths reaped in foreign war campaigns waged in other countries, and Cubans (also in great numbers) buried by the rubble that once were their homes.
Let no one be surprised. The case of Infanta and Salud is not, even from afar, just the collapse of another building.
Last January 10th on the Havana Times website (www.havanatimes.org) was published an interview that journalist Yusimí Rodriguez conducted at my house a few days before. I wish to acknowledge my thanks publicly to Yusimí, who not only honored me with her attention, but gave me the opportunity to appear in alternative spaces, beyond the usual platforms Desde Cuba and Voces Cubanas, the cyber-homes I dwell in with other independent bloggers the past four and three years respectively.
I would also like to attest to the veracity of everything Yusimí published in said interview. Although, for reasons of space and requirements of the website she works for, it was necessary to edit and maul the extensive recording – which she gave me a copy of, a welcome show of ethics which I admire — I must say that the interviewer adhered to the spirit of my words and nothing that was published was either untrue or a misrepresentation to any degree. It is true that, as some friends who know me have noticed, certain issues seem incomplete, hence the odd commentator at Havana Times — perhaps not very well-intentioned — accusing me of “being superficial” in my analysis, but we know that it is impossible to summarize in a short space everything concerning the complex issues of the Cuban reality, which were answered more fully in the original interview. Yusimí herself had anticipated that the final version would be a brief excerpt of what was recorded. However, the essential ideas of the answers to her questions are reflected honestly in the Havana Times published version.
I can only hope that we continue to draw closer in the future, like in this instance, citizen forums of Cuban civil society, against the grain of anyone’s ideas, tendencies or political sympathies. Who knows if other faces will begin to appear in the Razones Ciudadanas and greater diversity of authors in the digital magazines Convivencia and Voices, for example! In fact, in this sense, there are already new faces in the latter. May there be further consolidation of those contacts from the Estado de SATS meetings, and that this spirit might spread and become generalized throughout the Island to banish, once and for all, the hatred fueled by the authorities to keep alive the isolation and suspicion.
Yusimí has proven to be a brave person, and, better yet, she has decided to make her own inquiries among the “demons” of the opposition. I am pleased that in her interview, in addition to focusing on what a controversial and dissenting blogger I am, she has revealed my human side. I’m sure that, thanks to her work and the work others, ordinary Cubans will continue traveling the bridges of communication, sharing venues and weaving common interests. To my readers who have not read the interview, I invite you to enter and participate in the dialogue.
Final Note: While writing this post, on the afternoon of Sunday January 15th, 2012, I found out, through a message from my friend Dagoberto Valdés that the Ladies in White in the Pinar del Río province were subject to violence from the “repudiating” hordes, and even a two year old child was hurt, the victim of this criminal event. It is time we raise all our voices to condemn such practices and to end the government’s impunity and its repressive forces. We want no more fascism in Cuba. No to violence, to discrimination, and to exclusions of any kind.
“ALL THIS WILL BE YOURS!” — Picture from La Nueva Cuba on the Internet
A recurring theme among the last days of 2011 and early 2012 by Cubans and foreign individuals interested in the Cuban reality has been about the outlook for the year just begun, given the chronic nature of the national economic crisis, the ongoing measures (reforms) of the General-President, with his Galapagos kind of pace, the announced increase in the worldwide recession and the political events that will have an important influence on the situation in the medium term, namely, the presidential elections that will take place in the United States and, fundamentally, those in Venezuela.
The warning signs that constitute the tip of an iceberg floating adrift erratically became more pronounced in Cuba in 2011: the removal of some subsidies, the end of the monthly lifetime allowance in hard currency (50 CUC) to staff having completed health “missions” in other Third World countries, the shut-down of several work centers and other silent layoffs, the reduction in ALBA (Bolivarian Alliance of the Peoples of Our Americas) student programs, especially at the Latin American Medical School, increases in food prices and other staples, worsening economic living conditions in the poorest sectors of society (the majority), in contrast against increases in the standard of living of a small sector of the new middle class, among others. This, coupled with the general apathy and the growing feeling of helplessness on the part of groups that will not benefit from Raulista measures, is a picture that points to the further deterioration of social situations and the potential increases in crime, among other adverse factors.
One of the strongest contradictions is the slow pace of government reforms, which, so far, has been unable to stop the deterioration of the system, compared to the rapid social impoverishment that is directly reflected in the disappointment, uncertainty, and lack of confidence in the future, especially a future dependent on the power group that controls both the macro economy and national politics. There don’t seem to be many flattering indicators, or reasons for hope. If the welfare of Cuban families hinges on setting up a kiosk or an eatery, on remittances received from relatives abroad –those who have that luxury- or on expectations that hang on the generosity of the government, we might as well start turning out the lights and closing the doors: that is not a future.
On the other hand, none of the new economic “rights” has been matched by social and political rights, as is logical under totalitarian regimes. Cubans have been so thoroughly disenfranchised and have been subjected to such “paternalistic” controls that even we in the opposition factions and independent civil society have sometimes unconsciously wished that freedom of expression, of association and of the press be “allowed”, as if they weren’t natural rights inherent to the human condition. What can we expect from others who have let discouragement win!
Nevertheless, 2011 was also witness to a surge in alternative and civic groups and to obvious links between the two. A spontaneous process of modest but visible growth has been taking place within the independent civil society, which could be consolidating gradually. Undoubtedly, though it is a small sector, corresponding to the conditions of the dictatorship, this is the reflection of the will of Cubans with emancipated mentalities, determined not to ask permission to be free, convinced that it is vital to transform reality within ourselves. A few years ago this was unthinkable. Similarly, along with the growth of civic spaces, we can expect strong resistance from the authorities, and an eventual increase in repression.
The fate of one and all in this 2012 will be marked, among other situational factors, by the interests that have already been outlined more clearly, which, in very general terms, are: the olive green elite and all of its caste, by virtue of recycling itself in order to maintain power; the great entrepreneurs, members of that same caste or associated with it, for maintaining an economic monopoly and increasing their private capitals; new small businessmen and owners, for increasing their profits, making use of the meager reforms, and perhaps for fighting for other reforms; the ever-unfortunates, for surviving another year of shortages; we, the disobedient dreamers, for increasing activism in order to promote awareness of democratic changes and for seeking new ways to foster them.
Some readers may think I’m pessimistic, but that is not the case. My greatest optimism consists precisely in viewing reality face-to-face and continuing to wish for changes. Today, the despair of tens of thousands of Cubans is one of the main allies of the regime. However, we must not give up. We might find the opportunity and perform a miracle in the midst of all this dark, murky and imprecise present. Nobody knows how much time we have left, but it is not the time to throw in the towel. Those of us who are alive and want to achieve will not allow fatigue and defeat to win the game.
Just a few lines to wish my readers a Merry Christmas and a 2012 befitting their best expectations. I am confident that we will have some developments and interesting achievements in matters of democracy. At the very least, I will try to try contribute to the extent of my modest abilities to make it happen.
I take this opportunity to share with you my joy at the birth of my second grandson, Samuel, on Wednesday, December 14th, which I have been busy with, and that’s why I have stayed somewhat away from the blog. I would like to think that my grandchildren will grow up in a free and democratic Cuba established by the will of all Cubans. I hope to get back on track soon, and I will be in touch.
If it were possible to classify years the same way winemakers catalogue wine, I would say that 2011 has been a good harvest, good for those Cubans who aspire to a future of civility and of transformations in Cuba, who have seen a gradual but sustained approach among different groups of the alternative civil society, mutual recognition of places and rights common to all, but not so for the government.
I don’t want to be at fault for any unfair or unintended omission, so I will avoid making a list of the ever-growing list of people with different tendencies, generations, professions and backgrounds, who are breaking the isolation of a society long contorted by fear or mistrust between this or that group or individual. Suffice to note that in the course of this year that network of free spaces has emerged spontaneously and freely, and one might surmise that many hopes and aspirations are pinned to that social fabric of an inevitably different and better Cuba.
In fact, I would say that, this year, the very one-party government is the one that has gone to the opposition; not because I say it, but because of the methods and procedures that it employs in its belated intent to resurrect, and in its obvious fear of the unstoppable process to weaken both new and old generations’ faith in the “revolution.” An example of this was the conspiracy orchestrated to… celebrate? the Sixth Congress of the Cuban Communist Party, based on some guidelines developed in secrecy. An event that was unexpectedly and surprisingly announced, even for the members of the single party, with the additional constraint of an agenda limited to purely economic issues. This gave the high leadership of the party an image of weakness and insecurity, and projected a climate of mistrust and reservation among grassroots activism, while it exhibited the paradox of trying to promote a campaign against “secrecy” from the standpoint of a conspiracy.
In stark contrast, sectors of the alternative civil society have been launching programs and open proposals, have held meetings and events prior to public announcement –even under the harassment and hounding of the political police- unvarnished and without dissimulation or exclusions, and they have been attracting support and good will, especially of those young people who are not attracted by the “new” official promises. The fatuous fires that loosen the frayed olive green epaulets don’t have the appeal of the future that they dream of realizing by themselves, without masters, without dogmas.
Let’s look at today’s Cuba, the one where we have lived this year 2011, and let’s recap: who hides in order to devise compromises, conferences and alliances without consultation? who denies information to the people? who maintains the monopoly of the press and media and seeks to monopolize access to the Internet? who insists on distributing and managing, enforcing the limits and the pace of the transformations they are urging to apply? who harasses free citizens? who offers resistance to the multiparty and the full participation of all Cubans in the search for solutions? who opposes democratic change? does the power of the government legitimize retaining authority by force? Why, then do they say we are “the opposition”?
Osmani García, the scapegoat of the day. Photo taken from the Internet
A disproportionate scandal has been unleashed these past few days around a vulgar Cuban video clip officially demonized and quasi-banned by the Culture Minister himself. It is the reggaeton entitled “Chupi Chupi” whose lyrics, in fact, are such a monument to audio-visual vulgarity that it could be considered record-breaking within a genre that is prominent in Cuban music, by its crudeness and by the lack of substance of its lyrics and images, and the obnoxiousness and repetitiveness of its refrain.
It is clear from the preceding paragraph that I detest reggaeton, though I acknowledge and respect the sovereign right of the followers of this (music genre?) to fully enjoy it, provided that, in turn, it does not invade my ears with its aggressive and artless lyrics. However, I am very surprised at the virulence of the official attack on a video clip that basically does not differ too much from others of equally vulgar, pornographic and similar insipid content. And if I understand that the scandal is “disproportionate”, it’s because in a reggaeton and reggaeton performer’s fight against the formidable cultural and official press apparatus, the song Chupi Chupiand its author, Osmani García, will be able to do little to defend themselves.
On the other hand, I cannot understand such last-minute Puritanism in the face of a phenomenon that has ruled over the Cuban music scene, not in “recent years”, as the high ranking Commissioner with a doctorate in Arts and Sciences claims in an article published by the press (Granma, Wednesday, November 23rd, 2011, pages 4-5) — the artistic Commissioner appointed to sanctify censorship to the public — but for at least the last two decades. It could be said that the specialist author of the journalistic diatribe, with the rank of Faculty Professor in the Department of Musicology at the Higher Institute of Art –- such are her very polished and lengthy titles and crests — was locked in her ivory tower, just listening to classic music all this time, therefore she had not heard that, in effect, musical vulgarity has claimed the throne in the taste of a good part of the Cuban people. I wonder how someone could be a specialist in musicology and ignore the process of impoverishment that has been gnawing away at Cuban popular music in its own environment.
I say this because it is impossible to drive through the streets of this city without passing a rickshaw dispensing reggaeton in its path, out loud, polluting the environment with its low-life sounds and the marginalization of its lyrics. Some bus drivers have similar habits and share with passengers in their crammed vehicles what they consider the greatest of musical creations, assuming that they are like-minded and want to share. The same goes for many of the classic old cars that serve as taxis on fixed transportation routes, where passengers that pay their fares have to suffer, whether they like it or not, the dissemination of reggaeton at high decibels … and God help anyone who dares to suggest to the driver to turn down the volume! The driver’s abuse is worse than the very lyrics of the music. If you don’t believe it, just ask Yoani Sánchez, who on one occasion had to get out of the car because of the driver’s anger when she protested discretely. Since that time, she has decided to board protected by headphones that allow her to build a defensive anti-reggaeton barrier, and, at the same time, enjoy her own music without making trouble or bothering anyone.
But specifically against the “El Chupi” onslaught… I started to think about other reggaeton and other lyrics that for several years have occupied the popular taste. Some of these creations are more vulgar and “stupefying” than others, but all are part of a repertoire under whose influence many, who are now in their adolescence and youth, have been brought up. I remember some of those gems, whose lyrics say “suck my sweet sugar cane, Mom …” another cried out in the voice of a cat in heat “Aaaayyy, I like Yumas!*…” Another urged: “Suck, suck, suck lollipops, take them out of your mouth, and put them in your nose….” And so forth, with the same level of excessively rhythmic idiocy.
These freaks have been a constant even at children’s birthday parties, so-called cultural activities in schools at all levels of education, at the feasts of the Committees for the Defense of the Revolution, in Pioneer camping trips and — believe it or not — even at day care center celebrations, promoted by the organizers of these activities, namely, teachers, educators, school leaders, cultural promoters, trainers, etc. At such times, it often happens that competitions are held, and those children who best mimic the pelvic movements of adults with ease and are able to “get onto the floor,” are the most applauded and encouraged by adults. So, in effect, a taste for reggaeton has become a widespread phenomenon. Not by chance was “El Chupi” nominated by popular vote for the latest and recent Lucas Awards, the annual Cuban video clip contest, from which it was eliminated by the decision of the Minister, against the proposal of his highly cultured people.
Until today, I think that promoting this type of music has spread in Cuba under official protection, aimed at a particular audience: large masses. Disseminating meaningless lyrics, keeping the public in an apathetic and lethargic state before the repetition of such empty refrains, appealing to the exaltation of the sensual and sexual as a way to alleviate the angst of so many hardships, reducing people to a state of idiocy, eroding minds and dehumanizing has been a “cultural” strategy employed by the authorities to channel and control energies, far from claims and reasoning. On the other hand, this type of thing tends to reinforce the image of a sexual paradise that is so appealing for the purposes of encouraging tourism, an economic stake par excellence for the government, only that, apparently, the image of the Cuban culture that was being presented is becoming too obscene and, for some unknown reason, they are putting an end to it.
At any rate, it is known that censure and bans only serve to encourage the consumption of the forbidden. These days, people have not stopped commenting on “the case of El Chupi,” and those who didn’t yet own a copy of the video clip ran to get it, the reverse effect of the reaction that turns subversive, and therefore, attractive, everything that upsets the authorities. Perhaps it is time for media owners to understand that banning is not what it’s about, but diversifying areas and options. It is time to open up true and total artistic and esthetic freedom and to allow all avenues for creativity to flow through. That would make Cubans a more cultured and selective peoples. May reggaeton not continue to be the only popular nor banned music. This could be another of so many beginnings we need.
*Translator’s note: Yumas are people born in the US.
This week I had a brief involvement in a radio program, but, unfortunately, there was insufficient time for the issue which I was invited discuss. Of course, this is not the Cuban radio on the Island, nor do I want to make a critical assessment of the program in question in this post. I hold the show in high regard, and I’ve been honored when I was invited as their guest on more than one occasion. The radio has very peculiar characteristics, and the informative nature of the show prevents it from expanding into more substantial deliberations. But the truth is that, having just a minute or two to talk, I came away with –as we Cubans say- certain things inside me that I would not want to skip over, not because possibilities to sustain responses and counter-responses exist only in an extensive debate, but because the show’s subject revolved around the results of a survey conducted in Cuba by the International Republican Institute (IRI), an institution that has made a total of six surveys in Cuba in the past few months. Nothing about the current Cuban reality is alien to me, so let’s use our blog as virtual support to freely express considerations relating to the survey and its content.
I must start by acknowledging that, perhaps due to my academic training, despite my view of surveys as useful tools, I approach them with caution. To me, they are just that: tools, a means to an end. It is obvious that any survey implies an inevitable degree of subjectivity regarding the interests of the research conducted with the sample selection and other factors no less important, which is why sociological generalizations from a limited sampling is quite risky, regardless of the seriousness and professionalism of surveying institutions. The first thing, I believe, is that inquiries must involve arriving at new knowledge to transcend what is already known, and not merely to confirm issues already in the public domain. And though funds to conduct such inquiries do not come out of my pocket, I feel I am at liberty to question the results of this or any other survey, whether or not my opinion is welcome.
As for the distrust of government and the “socialist project” and the despair about the nation’s future, they are clearly validated in the increasing number of Cubans who leave the country, both legally and illegally, in a growing and constant wave. Viewed objectively, it could be stated that such exodus is the visible plebiscite that has been checking off a “NO” to the Castro-communist government. It can also be assured that the celebration of the VI Congress of the Cuban Communist Party this past April, with its disappointing results, has served as a catalyst that accelerated the stampede. This represents the people’s mute judgment about their faith in economic reforms. Cuba bleeds dramatically, losing in the exodus most of her young work force, many enterprising people, and the better portion of her best specialists. Isn’t this a more resounding truth than a thousand surveys?
As far as many Cubans here are concerned, it is not necessary to have survey results to verify the high levels of discontent and uncertainty we live under, or to confirm the mistrust over government dealings in the “implementation of changes” or “the renewal of the model”. And let’s not talk about the so-called reforms of the General! Just go to the license registration offices to verify the number of “permits” that are returned each day. One doesn’t have to be too clever to see that some of those who appealed to the law in order to maintain a small private business -be it a café, a restaurant or a jewelry stand- could not face high taxes and other economic challenges, and will try to survive in some other way going forward, not necessarily “legally”, given that the ultimate employer for half a century, Father State, has started, slowly but steadily, the swell (and not the “wave”) of layoffs and there aren’t many options. These elements of the frustrated proto-national business constitute, either on a conscious or subconscious level, a sector of critical and potential disaffects to the system.
At this stage of the game, Pero Grullo’s truth is valid, in that we Cubans have a miserable rate of Internet connectivity, an issue that has been published numerous times by institutions, agencies and international personalities, so it’s somewhat redundant to mention a (very fabulous) 7% rate of connectivity on the island, especially if it is known that many Cubans who have an official e-mail account in a strictly controlled national network say they “have Internet”. As it is, this figure is generous and does not reflect the true and lamentable extent of the lack of access of the vast majority of Cubans who have never had a chance to even glimpse at a web browser.
As an additional factor, a sample of 500 individuals as the number representative of a population of more than 11 million people makes me doubt the survey. The argument that “the number is valid because “these are the standard approved by prestigious international level survey agencies, therefore the results are accurate” does not sit well with me. Standardization of the knowledge or of the research can only lead to the ignorance of important factors, especially when we are dealing with sociology and politics. I don’t think, for example, that the responses of 500 Cubans living here can be as reliable and accurate as those of the same number of individuals in France, Germany, the US, or any other democratic society … those that set the standards. I regret that my answer to the IRI specialist‘s question of was so superficial, with my apologies to all the titles and coats of arms that decorate her, but I do not usually resign myself to the graces of acceptance, nor do I meekly assume the supposed intellectual superiority of an entity because there are simply pre-set standards (“unquestionable” by others) and, therefore, “good”.
Another element to consider in the Cuban case is the national paranoia, which generates a climate of self-censorship that often prevents real answers by the respondents. Reaching rates of 80-90% of anti-government criticism in Cuba is truly very difficult to achieve, even by independent Cuban journalists. On numerous occasions I have listened to evasive answers from people I’ve known for a long time, with whom I have a relationship of trust and who are critical of the Cuban reality. “I’m not interested in politics”, “I do not know anything about that, what we want is to leave”, “what’s important to me is to work out my life and my family, I don’t get involved”, or lately, they respond by imitating a trendy musical number: “I just want a little bit* so I can live”. So, I can only think that the survey takers of the Institute found the most civic 500 Cubans in all of Cuba. Such lucky guys! I don’t know if the institution fully understands their great responsibility in creating a false expectation in a nation (composed of Cubans everywhere) that has been subjected to such a long and anxious wait. Some will believe, based on these results, that reaching the end of the Cuban dictatorship is only a matter of procedure.
My well-respected colleague, who participated in the show, granted absolute credibility to the survey and dismissed my reservations because, as he stated, “We Cubans have lost our fear and express ourselves publicly in queues, in metropolitan mass-transportation, etc… “, which is absolutely true, as this writer has been able to experience in her daily strolls. However, cyclical collective catharsis amid a stressful situation and taking a survey (however limited it may be) without fear, in front of strangers, for a foreign institution to boot …is not the same. Does my colleague really believe that the two situations can compare? Does he think that the verbal explosion alone, in the presence of a host of frustrations can imply an anti-government political attitude or civic maturity? So what are we missing? Just will power? I think not.
For my part, I also want to believe that at least 500 anonymous, common Cubans, assumed their responsibility to express themselves conscientiously and without fear when responding to a survey, but frankly I “find it hard” to believe. Not a problem of lack of faith, but of realism. As for me, though I am convinced of the irreversible failure of the system and the inevitable end of the Cuban dictatorship, I prefer not to mislead or to sweeten the pill. I reject the triumphalism of any color or trend, and I will have validation of the rates obtained by the International Republican Institute on the day that the number of Cubans who publicly defend and support the Ladies in White is at least half of the repudiators contracted by the government to harass them; when the number of voters attending the polls in the fake elections of the so-called “people power” falls by at least 50%; when in any official meeting -of the CDR, of “accountability” of a union, of any nucleus of the Cuban Communist Party, etc.- at least 5 or 10 Cubans get up to question government policy or “higher” decisions or when simply someone shouts “I oppose the proposal.” That moment may not be too long in coming, I’m such an optimist, but, so far, Master Pollsters, what is true is that, beyond the good intentions and wishes to please, the results your surveys pose, just like the General Raul’s “reforms”, do not offer any certainty of changes.
*Translator’s note: The traditional meaning of “cachito” is “a little bit”, but it’s possible that, when used in the song, it could refer to “a little joint” (marijuana cigarette), an alternate meaning in some parts of Latin America.
Military business interests range from hard-currency stores, transportation for tourists and restaurants, to hotels in different parts of the country.
So that no one can say that the bans don’t also apply in places better favored by the dominant caste, a resolution has recently been passed banning employees of some well-known companies of the Ministry of Armed Forces from bringing portable computer devices to work. What that will mean is that employees won’t be allowed to bring to work flash drives, external drives, laptops, notebooks, mobile phones or any other “potential support for the transfer of information that can pose risks to the institution or to the country in its development of political, military, economic, commercial, scientific, technical, cultural, social and other aspects.” How about that?
The rascal that makes an enemy out of any gadget related to computer technology is resolution 288/2011, and it’s a sort of gag order for employees of the Business Management Group (EAG), directed by Luis Alberto López Callejas, son-in-law of the General-President, and includes a number of companies operating in foreign currencies, including Gaviota. ALMEST (I don’t know the meaning of this acronym), TRD Caribe, Transgaviota, and others.
This resolution was reported to the employees in the early days of November, and although the order is apparently being obeyed, many unofficially admit that they carry their flash memories and cellular phones, contravening the order. “My cell phone line was way too expensive for me not to use it now. I have a young kid at home and I have to be on the alert in case he gets sick or needs something,” a friend who works in one of those centers tells me.
The employees of these private military businesses are civilians, but they are subject to resolutions and circulars and are expected to observe the rules in a military fashion. In any case, the measure reflects the official terror of the possibilities of new technologies. In the face of such behavior, the referenced companies seem more like intelligence centers or offices where exchange of information takes place dealing with national security… or rather, the insecurity of the government.
A debate encounter sponsored by the Catholic digital publication Espacio Laical took place on Saturday, October 29th, 2011. The agency EFE, the leading Spanish news agency, reported the event in a very laudable manner, as published on October 30th on the digital site Cubaencuentro. The report states that “The new role that the Catholic Church in Cuba has undertaken has provided forums for dialogue where even a dissident or a controversial academician are able to exchange their views in public with a leading intellectual public official.” Additionally, it exposes details of the intervention of the founder of the Institute of Art and the Cinematographic Industry (ICAIC) and the director of the Latin American New Film Festival, Alfredo Guevara, who “gave a lecture on Cuba’s current challenges” by addressing issues of economic adjustments, the problem of bureaucracy and the need to understand diversity and tolerance in today’s Cuba.
Present at the event were Cardinal Jaime Ortega, the official academic Esteban Morales, the economist and former political prisoner of the Black Spring group, Oscar Espinosa Chepe, and a group of students, intellectuals, economists, foreign diplomats and “local and foreign journalists.” The press release does not specify who these local journalists were, but they are presumed to be representatives of the official press, since there has not been any editorial opinion about said encounter from independent journalists and bloggers.
Nor did the official media give coverage to such a significant event, though one of the topics discussed was precisely in relation to the limitations of the press in Cuba and “the concealment of information to citizens,” as discussed by dissident economist Espinosa Chepe, who was very positive about debates that are “civilized, not offensive, without exclusions or absurd prejudices, because ideological diversity does exist in Cuba”, and he indicated that it was enough just to walk outside to listen to people’s criticism. As part of his response, Guevara considered that secrecy had to end “radically”.
Another of the aspects that EFE’s report emphasizes is the opinion of many of the meeting’s attendees about “the new role being played by the Catholic Church, providing spaces for dialogue on issues of all kinds and incorporating diverse opinions” and it added that “Cardinal Ortega himself stated last Friday that the Church is experiencing a new relationship with the State and the people of Cuba, and he confirmed that the dialogue initiated last year with Raúl Castro and his government continues, and it affects all areas of national life, including the adjustment process to ‘update’ the socialist model.”
In reality, we must recognize that any debate space that opens up for dialogue in a nation so tense and fragmented as ours, will, indeed, be positive. However, it would be desirable that the intentions professed should correspond more consistently with the facts. Let’s say that no debate about the actual Cuban reality should be considered inclusive when among the participants there is barely one representative of the broad array of non-official opinion – call them dissidents — of all of society, when not one member is invited from independent journalism or from alternative civil society that has emerged ever so strongly in the past few years, and other numerous and young voices that have much to say and to which so many venues have been denied.
One of the notable absentees at this event is the Catholic layman Dagoberto Valdés editor of the magazine Vitral, for many years and current host of the group’s wonderful magazine Convivencia. There have been many cultural, literary and civic activities developed by this group of people from Pinar del Rio, led by Dagoberto, in defense of diversity, freedom, and Cubanism; however, they don’t seem to qualify to take part in the debate of Espacio Laical.
There were also no representatives from the Cuban Law Association to offer an alternative view on the new legislation that is being announced, and the decrees that have been introduced in the very highly publicized process of government reforms.
Neither the Catholic Church nor Espacio Laical can be considered “new spaces” as they offer just the stage where discussions are confined to the thematic framework of the same old speeches disguised as reform, dictated by the same old speakers that have thrived for more than half century in the high politics of the country, apparently without perceiving any errors in the system. If those are the guiding voices, we are not before what is new or innovative, but rather in the presence of an opportunistic mutation of the same and already long-lived deadly disease.
Cardinal Ortega’s approach also seems, at the very least, ambiguous, since the idea that the Church is experiencing a new relationship with the Cuban people and their “dialogue” covers all areas of national life, including so-called process of updating the socialist model. At least regular Cubans do not seem to feel the presence of the Church in their lives, full of all kinds of shortages and lack of places to express themselves. Monsignor Ortega is far from being considered a representative of the feelings of the Cuban people, and, so far, he doesn’t seem to have as close a relationship with them as he does with the General. Nor can I understand the relationship between the purple and the olive green dialogue or their intention to renew socialism. It would seem that the Cardinal might soon receive his Cuban Communist Party membership card.
In fact, this Espacio Laical event has been full of the same secrecy that was so criticized in the encounter: there were no calls to attend, no invitation to all active opinion sectors, or media coverage of the conference and debates, or transparency. It was as if it were a conspiracy to care for a sacred venue, safe from the sacrilegious agitators who make embarrassing pronouncements, who plant themselves, who demand rights, who express themselves respectfully but without hiding their opinions. Apparently, new parameters have been established that maintains tight departments or niches, neither more nor less than the feedback of a new sectarianism, now scented with wax and incense.
Espacio Laical has often published brave and honest editorials, and has, in more than one occasion, expressed opinions and put forth questions that reflect the concerns of thousands of Cubans, but, in this case, it must be recognized that in practice it’s losing the opportunity to demonstrate true commitment for dialogue, because one cannot ignore players who have been marking the beat on the transformation of Cuban public opinion long before the government is forced to occasionally temper its discourse or to implement –much to their dismay- the limited economic and social changes that seem to dazzle the press today.
The Cardinal, meanwhile, played a positive role as a mediator for the release of prisoners of conscience, but their freeing could not have been possible without the courage and perseverance of the Ladies in White, without the sacrifice of Guillermo Fariñas and without the ongoing activities of journalists and independent bloggers. None of them were invited to the event last Saturday, perhaps because the Catholic Church delicately does not allow itself the risk of offending the speeches of the holy hierarchy with the more legitimate civil claims, or because perhaps it considers the people of this country so inept that they can only be represented either by guns or cassocks.
Thus, I would argue that the real opportunities for dialogue have been taking place spontaneously outside of institutions. The Estado de SATS (where Art and thought converge) the groups OMNI ZONAFRANCA, the Blogger Academy, Voces digital magazine, the group Convivencia, some of these spaces are inclusive, where all opinions are welcome, where debates don’t have stiff moderators surfeited with authority, or require the previous dictate of some anointed official. Good for Espacio Laical if it decides to promote and maintain a new debate forum, albeit half-hearted, but – let’s be fair — the event this past October 29th was neither so unprecedented nor a dialogue.
On Tuesday, November 1st, the Granma newspaper announced on its front page something that may constitute the ultimate Cuban surrealism. “The Cuban economy will grow 2.9% this year”. Page 2 displayed the same triumphant tone in two other petty articles whose headlines bear happy and misleading portents: “FIHAV 2011*. Growing Spanish Interest in Commercial Interchange with Cuba,” and” Investments in Construction Material Industry Guarantee Sector Growth.” All very funny, really. Granma has become the funniest publication in this country, only in most cases it’s black humor.
However, though just in the two blocks encompassed by Árbol Seco, between Estrella and Sitios (Centro Habana) every day there are between four and five carts with about the same products –- onions, green beans, bananas and plantains, garlic, peppers, avocados, papaya, tomato and beans — produce prices are not only excessively high, they are higher than last year’s prices.
Just yesterday I stopped in to do some shopping at the market on the corner of Jesús Peregrino and Santiago, also in Centro Habana. Eleven tiny tomatoes, a bunch of plantains and three small taro cost me 30 pesos. Next to me, an old man in his seventies watched the price board with an incredulous and concerned look in his face. He smiled at me bitterly. Nothing doing, honey, we came in second in the Pan-American Games, so now we will eat medals. And he left, talking to himself, with an empty shopping bag.
And while the official party mouthpiece wallows in such economic recovery inexplicably born out of fiction in a country where for so long nothing is produced, ordinary people feel their pockets increasingly depressed. In recent months, for example, my neighborhood has filled with produce carts. The proliferation of “wagon pushers” is such that, according to one of them, “no more licenses for this activity are being issued because the ones they had planned on have been exhausted.” You’d think that agricultural production would have increased under the reform momentum of our General-President. Produce stands and agro-markets, meanwhile, seem to compete only in terms of prices, a “contest” among sellers that seems determined to show who is able to set the highest price for his products; markets where, in addition, the quality of what’s offered leaves much to be desired.
Those of us Habaneros who were already adults in the 90’s witnessed the dismantling of the so-called “hostels” or INIT shelters, which — for the younger readers — were something like the tropical version of a cheap motel in which, for a small fee, couples who had no other adequate space rented a room for a few hours to have sexual relations. As a “solution” for the impossible task of sustaining the housing construction micro-brigades in the midst of the crisis known as “the special period in peacetime”, those hostels were fully adapted to housing and distributed as tiny apartments to families that did not have a place to live.
As a consequence, far from solving the general problem of housing, given that there were never enough hostels to provide homes to so many who needed them, they created another problem: couples without private spaces were stripped of their seedy but single possibility of having sex behind closed doors, without emptying their pockets. There has been little discussion of this, but since they closed the inns, sex was another item that became significantly more expensive and even became part of public spectacles in parks, dark corners, and stairways of familiar buildings.
But such dispossession was not something that concerned government officials. After all, this only hurt the poorest and, besides, no one would even think of bringing up such a problem in an assembly, lest they be labeled obscene or be subjected to ridicule. Mockery is already known to be the national tendency. On silencing the issue, the problem would “disappear”. Curiously, Cubans, who often boast of being sexual athletes, get very picky when discussing issues related to this. And so, the hostels, like other morally questionable sites, ended up red-listed among the many useful institutions that disappeared under this government.
The fact is that twenty years later, with the growing housing crisis, the steady deterioration of housing stock, and the chronic insufficiency of construction, the authorities have opted to appeal to a supreme source: turning into housing many of the local houses and offices recently used by their institutions, plus factories that have been closed due to the regressive economic effect of the system. Of course, this is not about institutions that are strategic to the government, but those that do not produce earnings, but expenses: The Ministry of Education, of Housing, small factories, etc.
Thus, while the construction of new buildings with better dignified façades are intended only for the sectors for the faithful (“atypical” buildings for Armed Forces or Interior Ministry officials) or beautiful homes are built for the anointed with closer relationships with the power in exclusive neighborhoods of the city, such as the “frozen” area in the vicinity of the hospital popularly known as CIMECQ, near Ground Zero, a neighborhood that was for the previous highest bourgeoisie; the disadvantaged get an ancient building or an austere narrow office space turned into an apartment, where, slowly, as construction materials make their appearance, they are building, with their own hands and with moving illusion, what will be their home the day that they finally install the last coat of plaster.
Those who want to verify this can simply pick out a sector of the city and set their eyes on the details. The old tobacco factory located at Carlos III and Árbol Seco is getting the final push to be transformed into a kind of new type of rooming house which will accommodate 21 apartments for families. The old building of the micro-social in the Casino Deportivo (3rd Street, between Entrada and 2nd) is also being turned into small apartments, while the house that was a branch of the Ministry of Education on the same block was given to a more lucky family… maybe an official who is devout from one of the sacred, untouchable institutions, those that don’t get mutilated.
Mind you, I don’t regret the disappearance of the offices of so many obsolete units which, like the marabou weed*, have spread throughout Cuba for over half a century. In fact, I would love to see their return to their original condition as family homes, for example, four comfortable mansions which for decades, after having been expropriated from their rightful owners, have been used as headquarters of the provincial committee of the Communist Party. That, and not to mention the overwhelming number of buildings also occupied by other parasitic organizations: CTC, CDR, FMC, DC, Popular Power, and an endless list. The mansions of the leaders and their privileged neighborhoods, are, of course, not linked to the housing program for the poor.
Given the lack of new construction, the inability of the state to build, and the reluctance to allow work to develop from the initiative of private contractors and private enterprises of Cubans, the government has chosen to draw on the outgrowths of their own outdated institutions, a kind of social autotrophy that, somehow, looks like a graphic manifestation of the system’s malnutrition.
*Translator’s Note: Dichrostachys cinerea. In Cuba, the plant is known as El Marabú or Marabou weed. It has been estimated that it occupies close to five million acres (20,000 km²) of agricultural land.
Gladys Bejerano. Comptroller General of Cuba. Photo from the Internet
One of the first rulings of General R. when he assumed the enthronement to power (please allow me to flatter the younger Castro’s vanity) was to create a system to detect and to put a stop to the rampant corruption that has been entrenched in the country through all spheres and at all levels. It is suspected that corruption is generalized, but the controls and audits reach only to a point … past this point, it might cause dangerous vertigo.
The first (detecting corruption) should be extremely easy. It is obvious and jumps up at you without much effort. The second (putting an end to it), is another matter. Because the General, of course, initiated from the start a process on the surface – not exactly from above — and downward, just where the pockets of the regime resent it the most, and many illustrious heads have rolled since then, including some gray-haired celebrity ones or some that don’t even have enough hair for a comb-over and only until recently were part of the trusted court of their olive green Majesties.
The first of the renowned Band of Seven to have been sacked were Otto Rivero, Felipe Pérez Roque, Francisco Soberón, José Luis Rodríguez, Carlos Lage, Carlos Valenciaga Estenoz and Fernando Rodríguez, who apparently were some sort of threat to the higher epaulets in the palace. “Revolutionaries” of the old guard, who until recently were known for their proven commitment to the regime have joined them.
Apparently, the effects of the Finance Ministry are proving more outrageous than what is prudent, so the official press has been given explicit orders to keep silent. That is, even more silent. So the media, mainly the written press, is engaged, with zeal worthy of better causes, to bring to the light of day the misuse of resources by the manager of some bakery or some agrarian co-op, but sweeps under the rug the dirt of ministries and of other senior bureaucrats with titles that are longer than their own names.
It seems that no one escapes the scrutiny of the severe comptroller of impulses of the purifying will of the General. Personally, I think it’s like a cash count, in which the incoming treasurer makes an effort to purify the accounts so that their own gains are not resented. Because in the state we find ourselves, it could be said that comptrollers have defecated against the ceiling fans, and more courtiers have been hit with feces than their majesties had thought. From ministers, managers of firms (foreign and Cuban), aviation directors, corporate officers of various magnitudes, including the brand-new and militant ETECSA, and countless numbers of minor number of minor entourages that have indeed been publicly beheaded.
But what more curious individuals won’t stop wondering, those who won’t stop misbehaving, who wonder about everything and are always full of ill-intentions, is who will be the leaders charged with renovating a model that seems to generate epidemics of corrupt leaders? What guarantees will there be that of those who will assume the responsibilities of the deposed won’t end up corrupted? What are the chances that a government that has not been able to create morally able replacements to carry out the “high mission of the revolution” will ever succeed in putting together, in the short run, a group of responsible and honest leaders? Will they create leadership schools? Will the General be able to trust anyone under the age of 75? Can we trust (and this is the clincher) the selection capability of the General?
But, in the midst of this sea of corruption of those who used to manage just a small slice of the power and the money, maybe the hardest questions to answer are precisely those that seem more urgent and logical: Are our president and his closest cronies the only “pure” ones we have left to take the helm in the midst of so many storms? Is the General “auditable”? Who is the comptroller who scrutinizes the financial dealings of the administration of the country?
Let’s sit and wait for the answer from the brand-new Comptroller General of the Republic.
