The press advances with cautious steps, not confronting but questioning, it says that “there are differences of opinion,” and serves at the citizens’ table a menu of political and social diversity. True, they are small unsure steps, contained and small still — baby steps — but they’ve started to walk.
Some journalists on the Cuban television information system air critical writings and audiovisuals, as in one denouncing the manager of a hard currency store who declined to give an interview. It is interesting to imagine how such reports pass the heads of the censorship department, the news director, who surely must in turn consult with the vice president or president of the Cuban Institute of Radio and Television.
I’m pretty sure that the curtains of this budding opening are have the authorities at the helm; but is the result it could have in society — in fact, is already influencing — and in the Cuban media the same as if it were natural and spontaneous?
The effect is evident in the media universe itself, as it increases the number of workers in the media who dare to “take the leap” of freedom of information and publicize problems that for decades, were shoved under the rug of censorship under the anachronistic carpet of immobility.
The comedians also do their thing, mainly in the capital, lowering the bar each time a little more than permitted — despite fifty years of limitations and the to-be-expected fear — and extract humor rather than pus in their shows. I’m sure the time will come in which as if at a free national auction, with a wide catalog of freedoms and rights, we will stand openly “without auctioneers” and ask: Who offers more?
Among our leaders there is a practice of submitting for discussion and popular approval certain laws and documents which they consider to be of special importance. The assumption is that, by doing this, they are presenting an example of direct democracy as an expression of popular will, which will grant them greater legitimacy.
In reality this is not the case. Although figures are published indicating approval in the millions, we all know—including the authorities—that real discussion is notable by its absence and that approval is merely a formality, as exemplified by the well-known expression, “Why waste time talking about it if everything has already been decided at the top?” It has been this way for too many years. Laws have also been imposed, from one day to the next, without having been submitted for either discussion or approval by the people. This has led to a lack of civic awareness and citizen responsibility, currently two of our worst ills.
Years ago, when the proposed constitution was being presented, many did not even bother to read it much less analyze and discuss it. It was approved by a majority of the population which, even today, is unaware of its principal provisions, such as those dealing with citizens’ rights and responsibilities. It is really just a formal document—it has not even been reissued—languishing in obscurity and only used by the authorities at propitious moments to further their political interests. When the article that established “eternal socialism” was added, it was hurriedly approved by signature, with tables and lists everywhere, in a few days of hustle and bustle, and was intended to close a breach that had been discovered in the “state monolith.” Many of those who signed did not even think about what they were doing.
In the end, something similar happened with the new Guidelines for the economy. Officially declared “the document most democratically discussed and approved by the majority of the population,” in reality it was formally “analyzed” and “discussed” in situations that had already taken place, and “approved” the way all documents proposed by the authorities are approved—by unanimous consent.
As a result this way to achieving “direct popular approval” does not lead to more democracy nor does it improve what is being proposed. It only increases quantity to the detriment of quality. The constitution of 1940, considered the most important document of the Republic, did not have to be discussed by the entire population nor approved by every Cuban because it attracted the widest citizen participation through responsibly elected “constituent members.” They represented the widest political spectrum of Cuban society at that time and, through real and profound debates, wrote it article by article, balancing the different interests for the good of the nation. This allowed for the creation of a document which, even today, retains its importance and relevance. It might even serve as “temporary constitutional support” in a political transition.
In short, the country has for a very long time had a body — the National Assembly — which, if it concerned itself more with what should be its primary reason for being and met periodically rather than only twice a year, would be responsible for analyzing, discussing, amending and approving or rejecting the laws proposed by the government. To do this it must rely on “elected” deputies who, as officially described, represent their constituents. If this is so, why is it then necessary to go back to consult with them? Various specialists, knowledgeable about the subject in question, could be invited to join the analysis and discussion without excluding anyone for arbitrary political reasons and, through their preparation, could contribute to and enrich the debate. There is no denying that the current deputies do not reflect the current political spectrum of the country, which now has only one color — the government’s. This prevents serious and critical debate.
Unnecessarily prolonging the approval of a proposed law, taking it to the so-called citizen “base,” not only reeks of populism, but also means an unnecessary loss of time. It does not provide the impetus for “updating the model” or the speed demanded by the majority of the population, who are well aware of the speed at which problems are piling up.
In recent days Havana has stood out as venue of countless events, most of them of an international nature and assorted disciplines. International Labiofam Congress 2012; International Law Congress 2012; VII Course on Tools of Control and Prevention Against Administrative Corruption; Orthopedics Congress 2012; Nanosciencie and Nanotechnolgy IV International Seminar, among others. The titles themselves give a feeling of development and resolution in the diversity of subjects and plans for the future. How far from the daily Cuban society! It seems like another Cuba, a virtual one, that only exist for a privileged group, the palace court and company guests.
Nothing to do with the real Cuba, which despite being an small country with 11.2 million inhabitants has the fifth largest prison population in the world in relation to the number of individuals. The one where each citizen’s share of the national debt is valued at six thousand dollars, owed to a group that includes Paris, Russia, China, and who knows how many more countries, whom the Cuban government owes, on balance, the ballpark figure of sixty billion dollars.
The country that is aging at such a pace that it is predicted that by 2035 a third of its population will be over 60 years old. The one where the workers earn miserable salaries not exceeding twenty dollars a month on average, in a dollarized economy. The one where retired men and women are forced to survive through all kinds of tricks to eat and dress badly. The one with a two million person diaspora that grows exorbitantly. The impoverished Cuba that has been exhausted of wealth along with its dreams and hope.
The heirs of the new class seem to behave as if in forward flight, to ignore the sad reality of this island anchored in the past. Convinced of the powers and privileges inherent to their lineage, they flaunt plans, capacities and projects. Meanwhile, the gap continues to widen between them and the majority of citizens, who trapped in the trick of a single party system and the negation of their fundamental human rights, as set out in the United Nations Covenants on civil and political rights and on economic, social and cultural rights, confirm that there can’t be any communion with the oppression.
Photo from El Pais. Yoani Sánchez in Cuba in an archive image. / JOSÉ GOITIA
They wanted to keep me from attending the trial of Angel Carromero, the Spaniard who was driving when a car crash killed Oswaldo Paya and Harold Cepero. Around five in the afternoon a big operation on the outskirts of Bayamo stopped the car my husband, a friend, and I were driving in. “You want to disrupt the court,” a man dressed completely in olive-green told us, as he immediately proceeded to arrest us.
The operation had the scale of an arrest against a gang of drug traffickers, or the capture of a prolific serial murderer. But instead of such threatening people, there were just three individuals who wanted to participant as observers in a judicial process, looking on from within the courtroom. We had believed the newspaper Granma when it published that the trial was oral and public. But, you already know, Granma lies.
However, in arresting me, they were actually giving me the chance to experience, as a journalist, the other side of the story. To walk in the shoes of Angel Carromero, to experience how pressure is applied to a detainee. To know firsthand the intricacies of the Department of Investigations of the Ministry of the Interior.
The first were three uniformed women who surrounded me and took my cell phone. Up to that point the situation was confused, aggressive, but still had not crossed the line into violence. Then these same hefty ladies took me into a room to strip me.
But there is a portion of ourselves no one can rip from us. I don’t know, perhaps the last fig leaf to which we cling when we live under a system that knows everything about our lives. In a bad and contradictory verse it might read, “you can have my soul… my body, no.” So I resisted and paid the consequences.
After that moment of maximum tension came the turn of the “good cop.” Someone who comes to me saying they have the same last name as me — as if that’s good for anything — and they would like “to talk.” But the trap is so well known, has been so often repeated, that I don’t fall into it.
I immediately imagine Carromero subjected to the same tension of threat and “good humor”… it’s difficult to endure this for long. In my case, I remember having taken a breath after a long diatribe against the illegality of my arrest where I repeated one sentence for more than three hours: “I demand you let me make a phone call, it’s my right.” I needed the certainty the reiteration gave me. The chorus made me feel strong in front of people who had studied the diverse methods of softening human will at the Academy. An obsession was all I needed to confront them. And I became obsessed.
For a while it seemed my insistent nagging had been in vain, but after one in the morning I’m allowed to make the call. A few phrases to my father, through a line obviously tapped, and everything was said. I could then enter the next stage of my resistance. I called it “hibernation,” because when you name something you systematize it, believe it.
I refused to eat, to drink anything; I refused the medical exam of several doctors brought in to check on me. I refused to collaborate with my captors and I told them. I couldn’t get out of my mind the helplessness of Carromero over more than two months of dealing with these wolves alternating the role of sheep.
Much of the time all of my activity was filmed by a camera operated by a sweaty paparazzi. I don’t know if one day if they’ll put some of these shots on State television, but I organized my ideas and my voice so that they would not be able to broadcast anything that infringes on my convictions. Either they will keep the original audio with my demands, or have to make a hash of it with the voiceover of an announcer. I tried to make it as difficult as possible for them to edit the material later.
I only made one request in 30 hours of detention: I need to use the bathroom. I was prepared to take the battle to the end, but my bladder, no. Afterwards they took me to a dungeon-suite. I had spent hours in another with a rare combination of curtains and bars, terribly hot. So to come to a larger room, with a television and several chairs, opening onto a room with a tantalizing bed, was a low blow. Just looking at the pattern of the curtains, I had the presentment that it was the same place where they’d made the first recording that circulated Angel Carromero’s statement on the Internet.
This was not a room, it was a stage set. I knew it immediately. So I refused to lie down on the freshly made bed and put my head on the tempting pillow. I went to a chair in the corner and curled up. Two women in military uniforms watching me at all times. I was living another deja vu, the memory of the scene that transpired in the early days of Carromero’s detention.
I knew it and it was hard. A hardness not in the beating or in torture, but in the conviction that I could not trust anything that happened within these walls. The water might not be water, the bed looked more like a trap, and the solicitous doctor was more snitch than physician. The only thing I had left was to submerge myself into the depth of “me,” close the gates to the outside, and that’s what I did. The “hibernation” phase let to a self-induced lethargy. I didn’t utter another word.
By the time they told me I was “being transferred to Havana,” I could barely raise my eyelids and my tongue was practically hanging out of my mouth from the effects of prolonged thirst. However, I felt that I had won.
In a final gesture, one of my captors offered his hand to help me into the minibus where my husband was. “I do not accept the courtesy of repressors,” I fulminated. And once again I thought of the young Spaniard who saw his life turned upside down that July 22, who had to struggle among all these deceptions.
On arriving home I learned from the other detainees that Oswaldo Payá’s own family was not allowed to enter the courtroom. Also that the prosecutor asked for a seven-year sentence against Angel Carromero, and that the trial had been “concluded, awaiting sentencing” on Friday. Mine was just a stumble, the great drama continued to be the death of one man and the imprisonment of another.
Rumpelstiltskin, by Anna-Kafka. Taken from devianart.com
The sweat of the three women who put me into a police car still sticks to my skin and in my nostrils. Huge, hulking, ruthless, they took me into a windowless room where the broken fan only blew air towards them. One looked at me with particular scorn. Maybe my face reminded her of someone in her past: an adversary in school, a despotic mother, a lost lover. I don’t know. What I do remember is that, on the evening of October 5, her look wanted to destroy me. She was the one who ferreted around under my skirt with great delight, while two other uniformed policewomen grabbed me for the “search.” Rather than seeking out some hidden object, the purpose of this search was to make me feel violated, defenseless, raped.
Every six hours they changed my guards. On the midnight shift they were noticeably less strict, but I locked myself in my silence and never responded to their questions. I evaded myself. I chose to tell myself, “They’ve taken everything, even the clip that holds my hair, but — ridiculous searchers — they have not been able to take from me my inner world.” Thus I decide to take refuge, during the long hours of my illegal confinement, in the only thing I had: my memories. The room wanted to appear neat and clean, but everything had its share of filth or breakage. The granite floor tiles were covered with a good dose of accumulated grime. I stared at the figures made by the little pebbles cast in each tile and the gobs of dirt. After a while faces jumped out of this constellation. Characters flourished in the rough floor of my cell in the police station in Bayamo.
Springing from there was the lanky countenance of Don Quixote, while in that corner I could see the simple profile of Eduardo Abela’s “Bobo” — that wise fool who mocked the Machado dictatorship. Some oblique eyes, shaped by mortar and gravel, looked incredibly like the protagonist in the film Avatar. I laughed and my perennial watchers began to believe that my refusal of food and water was literally frying my brain. I espied, in the irregular granite, the Hunchback of Notre Dame and the slender figure of Gandalf, staff and all. But standing out among all these forms that emerged from the rough paving there was one — the most intense — that seemed to cavort and laugh before my eyes. Perhaps it was the effect of thirst and hunger, the truth is I don’t know. A long-bearded dwarf with a cynical look, slyly mocking.
It was Rumplestiltskin, the star of a children’s story where the queen is forced to guess his complicated name and if she does not she must give the despotic elf her most precious possession: her own son. What was this character doing in the midst of my temporary imprisonment? Why did I see him over so many other visual references I have accumulated in my life? I immediately intuited the answer. “You are Rumplestiltskin,” I said out loud and the gorgons watching me looked worried. “You are Rumplestiltskin,” I repeated, “and I know your name. You are like dictatorships, and once we start calling them by their name, it begins to destroy them.”
The presidential elections on October 7 may not be the triumphant military parade announced by Hugo Chavez. The Chavez vote has been trending downward. Capriles has gained the advantage. He has come from behind. Now it is a house-to-house campaign for the undecided vote.
This is a concern for more than one person in Cuba. In political roundtables, those discussion programs on Cuban television in which all points of view are aligned, the rhetoric is less optimistic.
Cuban media reported in August that Chávez had a 30% lead over Capriles. Cuban news programs were broadcasting the smiling “Comrade Chávez” in his red beret, shouting that he would trounce his adversary.
The campaign strategy of the strongman of Caracas has left much to be desired. In the background, according to several analysts, is Cuba’s political machinery.
On the subject of democratic elections, Cuba has little to teach its allies in the Americas. The Castros have always governed as they pleased, without a legal opposition and by repressing dissidents.
The use of defamation and scorn in a nation like Venezuela – in spite of past political corruption and criminal violence, the country enjoys a relatively democratic climate – has been a fundamental error by the Chávez team.
Hugo Chávez has not even been willing to have a televised debate with his opponent. Everything has been an insult. This tactic has exposed his intolerance and arrogance.
He should have taken notes of how to run an electoral campaign – by uniting instead of dividing the country – from his Brazilian colleague, Lula da Silva. After fourteen years in power, logic has given way to appalling violence in Venezuela, where 150,000 have been assassinated during this time period.
Deaths in Venezuela are twice the number of murders in Mexico by drug cartels and paramilitary groups. More than a country, it is a slaughterhouse. The poor from Caracas’ hills do not trust Hugo Chávez. Corruption and political cronyism are growing, the prices of staple foods are rising and poverty figures are going through the roof.
The average Venezuelan might have a medical clinic in one corner of his house, but he considers it unacceptable to have to pay an inflated price for it. The poor relation from the Caribbean costs Venezuela billions of dollars annually. Chávez provides 100,000 barrels of oil daily, selling it to the Castro regime at discount prices, in exchange for health care personnel and technical assistance.
In the last trimester, the government in Caracas had to make financial payouts to settle its accounts on the island. In 2000, Chávez and Fidel Castro signed the Accord on Comprehensive Cooperation in which Cuba pledged to send 30,000 doctors and athletic coaches. In exchange PDVSA – the state-owned oil company – was to ship 53,000 barrels of oil a day. According to experts this figure has doubled. Petroleum is essential to the government of Raúl Castro.
Its commitment to a timid series of reforms, including a $900 million investment in infrastructure for the port of Mariel, construction of international tourism facilities and an expansion in the number of self-employed workers, has caused energy consumption to skyrocket.
In a desperate search for energy independence, Castro II has been actively engaged in gas exploration in Cuba’s territorial waters, but so far no petroleum has been found. As a result the October 7 elections are the number one priority for the Castro regime. The fall of Chávez would hit the fragile domestic economy like a tsunami.
Cuba has never been able to get by on its own. When Soviet sponsorship dried up in 1991, the island entered a period of darkness and misery. Power outages lasted sixteen hours a day. Thousands of people suffered from chronic illnesses related to malnutrition. Motorized transport disappeared, replaced by tractors pulled by oxen, horses and donkeys. The comandante único kept in his drawer a plan called Operation Zero in which the army would take charge of distributing food rations in individual neighborhoods.
This phase, which never completely ended, is referred to officially as “the special period.” It has been like a war without bombs. If chaos never erupted, it was because of the rise to power in Venezuela of Hugo Chávez Frías, a true saint on the Castros’ altar. Fourteen years later, Fidel Castro would become delirious, making incendiary rants and suffering from weak health.
His brother Raúl, the hand-picked successor, has not been able to straighten the rickety direction of the Cuban economy. Now more than ever, he needs the financial resources of his twin. Cuba will do all within its power to see that Hugo Chávez remains in office. If not until 2030, as the bolivariano would like, then at least for another six-year term.
In an attempt to keep him in the president’s seat, the regime in Havana offers advice on military matters and sleazy propaganda techniques. If there is one way in which the Creole autocracy differs from its “Venezuelan brother,” it is in his stubborn confidence in the mechanisms of western representative democracy.
At the beginning of the 1990s Fidel Castro whispered some good advice to his Nicaraguan ally, Daniel Ortega: Do not hold elections just to lose. The Castros assume Hugo Chávez has taken note. If not, then they are keeping their fingers crossed, just in case.
Independent journalist Calixto Ramón Martínez Arias continues to be jailed in the Santiago de las Vegas police station, and “will be charged with the crime of aggravated contempt for authority,” according to precinct captain Marisela.
On September 19 the captain referred to Hablemos Press Information Center correspondent as having “disrespected Fidel and Raúl Castro and said that the investigator in charge of the case was sub-Lieutenant Rosmerty.”
For 72 hours after the detention, the police kept the details about Martínez Arias’ arrest secret, after he was detained last Sunday night for investigating an event that took place at the International Airport José Martí. Presumably, the event holds the Cuban government responsible for the deterioration of medicines sent by the World Health Organization (WHO).
According to Roberto de Jesús Guerra Pérez, director of Hablemos Press, he and a group of friends showed up in the police station located at Avenidad Independencia and Calzada de Managua in the town of Santiago de las Vegas.
“The officer on duty at the station communicated to us that Calixto had been transferred to another station. We received no further details,” said Roberto. Nevertheless, according to the law, the police have the obligation to allow communication with the detainee.
For this reason, this Wednesday at one o’clock in the afternoon, at the Santiago de las Vegas police station, Roberto de Jesús and independent lawyer Veizant Boloy, demanded that information about Martínez Arias’ legal situation be given. “Last Monday they lied to us, because Calixto was in the station,” stated Roberto de Jesús.
“We asked the captain, Marisela, if we could see him and give him some toiletries, when a State Security agent named Yuri showed up, accompanied by another police officer. They asked us for identification and sent us to the cell,” explained Boloy after they were released that same day around midnight.
“As we walked down into the dungeons we yelled Calixto’s name, who was surprised to hear us and replied to us. We saw the wounds on his face, caused by the beatings inflicted by the police,” said both Guerra and Boloy.
“Our detention and everything that happened at the station took place under Major Arnaldo Espinoza’s watch, Unit Chief at the Santiago de las Vegas police station. His badge number was 00182. Although the ones that really give the orders are the State Security agents,” added Boloy.
According to information given this past Friday by Roberto de Jesús Guerra, Calixto R. Martínez was given medical attention at the National Hospital for a swollen left eye, and was transferred to a prison located to the West of the capital and known as “El Vivac.”
The Prosecution has not given notification as to when Calixto will be able to hire one of the lawyers from the National Organization of Lawyers’ Practice, who are the only ones authorized by the law to defend Cuban citizens in a Cuban court of law.
Calixto Ramón has been jailed on several occasions for his journalistic work, and has also been deported at least 12 times for remaining in Havana with an identity card that has an address from Camagey.
This time, the correspondent of Hablemos Press, who assured us his mission was “to break the wall of silence imposed by the island’s government and to denounce human rights violations,” could serve a sentence of 1 to 3 years in prison.
Site manager: Many inquiries have been received by this site expressing great concern for what might be happening to Yoani, who was arrested in Bayamo on her way to cover the trial of Angel Carromero who was driving the car in which Oswaldo Paya and Harold Cepero died. Below are audio recordings of Yoani being arrested in 2010, which may give us some idea of what could be happening now.
ADDED TEXT: Again, in response to questions, the reason for posting this was to give readers confidence that Yoani knows how to “stand up for herself”… !
Note: There is no video on the “videos”… only audio.
Post from Generation Y: My Last Bit of Faith on 14 May 2010
Note to English-speaking readers: The transcript for these videos in Spanish and English can be downloaded below.
We will reduce them to obedience to the law.
Julio, lawyer
More than 60 days ago I sent several Cuban institutions a complaint for illegal detention, police violence and arbitrary imprisonment. After the death of Orland Zapata Tamayo, successive illegal arrests prevented more than one hundred people from participating in the activities surrounding his funeral. I was among the many who ended up in a jail cell on February 24, when we went to sign the condolence book opened in his name. The level of violence used against me, and the violation of the procedures for detaining an individual at a Police Station, led me to file a claim with little hope that it would be heard in court. I have waited all this time for the response of both the Military Prosecutor and the Attorney General, holding back this revealing testimony, painful evidence of how our rights are violated.
Fortunately, my cell phone recorded the audio of what happened that gray Wednesday, and even after being confiscated it recorded the conversations of the state security agents and the police – who wore no badges – who had locked us up by force at the Infanta y Manglar station. The evidence contains the names of some of those responsible, reveals the background of the police operation against dissidents, independent journalists and bloggers. I have sent copies of this dossier of a “kidnapping” to international organizations concerned with Human Rights, protection of reporters, and all those related to abuse. Several attorneys from the Law Association of Cuba have advised me in this endeavor.
Although there is little chance that someone will be brought to account, at least those responsible will know that their atrocities no longer remain hidden in the silence of their victim. Technology has allowed all of this to come to light.
——————
* Some elements that complete this dossier of a “kidnapping”:
– The female voice on the tape with me is that of my sister, Yunia Sánchez.
– Transcript of the recording, in Spanish and English.
– Acknowledgments of receipt from the Military Prosecutor, Attorney General, National Assembly of People’s Power, Police Station where the incident occurred, the Council of State and the National Headquarters of the National Revolutionary Police (PNR).
The launch last Thursday of the latest issue of the Cuban magazine Temas dedicated to the question “Values in Crisis?” brought together a heterogeneous audience that, in addition to its habitual followers, also included to my enjoyment young faces, perhaps attracted to the presence among the invited guests of Israel Rojas, the popular singer from the duo Buena Fe.
A consensus arose among those present. “Crisis de valores” — crisis of values — is a term that has been used for a long time, and it is one that not always carries a negative connotation. But another consensus also took place, that some values are timeless. My impression from that disparate meeting was that, independently from any personal perspective on the issue, almost everyone agreed that our society is indeed suffering from a crisis of ethical values.
Some presenters and a few in the audience got close to the bone: white-collar corruption was mentioned; professor Teresa Díaz-Canals gave the example of the discrepancy that exists between what she teaches in her Ethic classes and what college students assimilate from the national press. Desiderio Navarro pointed out the difference between proclaimed values and values as they manifest. Several people spoke about the “double moral” or moral double standards.
My cousin Mayito Coyula intervened with a botanical simile: the “bourgeoisie” values were defoliated after 1959, and with no further cultivation, weeds began covering the vacant land. Rafael Hernández claimed that the idea of equality was cultivated, even though he conceded that such an idea is more and more unattainable. Monsignor Carlos Manuel de Céspedes and Laura Domínguez offered wise opinions from opposite sides. Israel Rojas offered his non-academic, but welcoming fresh observation that honesty is no longer valued. It was mentioned that more space for debate is needed, and that ethical values are not strengthened by decree.
Even though I followed procedure by writing my name on a piece of paper and sending it to the panel, I was not called to intervene, due to lack of time. I would have referred to the role that education and the media play, I would have also disagreed with the remark that certain negative stereotypes about emergent teachers* are unfounded.
I would have also referred to the government’s responsibility in these issues. Without retelling too much, I remembered the notion of “caballerosidad proletaria” — proletarian chivalry — as a twist to the idea of gender equality. The existence of television commercials contrasting positive behaviors to widespread public and private misconduct are an effort to straighten a tree that has grown crooked.
The impression I gather from attending these spaces is that almost all participants are capable of identifying what the problems in our society are and their respective responsibility. It is something that is always in the air. Yet no one has the courage to call the people responsible by their name, for fear to be branded as a provocateur by any of the hotheaded ones. Another impression I have is that government officials implicated in the issues being discussed neitherattend nor stay informed (or do not care) about what is said during these events.
There are citizens for whom, even from different ideological perspectives, these issues are a matter of concern. Any society is capable of organizing spontaneously to discuss and find answers and solutions to their problems. One more time, it is evident that our society lacks such freedoms.
*Translator’s note: So-called “emergent teachers” was a program to quickly mint more teachers, which relied on “an army of teenagers” as some reports put it, to fill vacant positions and reduce class sizes.
Site manager’s note: The following excerpts are translated from an article in Cubaencuentro. In addition, an official government blogger reported that Yoani traveled to Bayamo intending to disrupt and put on a “media show” at the trial of Angel Carromero, who was driving the car in which Oswaldo Paya and Harold Cepero were killed.
For those who are unaware, Yoani is a correspondent for the Spanish newspaper El Pais, and was intending to cover the trial. Oswaldo Paya’s children also traveled to Bayamo, and according to tweets from Rosa Paya, his daughter, they have been prevented from attending the trial. Also note, Agustin Lopez has been reported in some tweets to be Agustin “Diaz.” Finally, the Paya and the Cepero families have specifically stated that they do not hold Angel Carromero responsible for the car crash.
The well-known Cuban blogger Yoani Sanchez and her husband, thejournalist Reinaldo Escobar, among other activitists, have been arrested this Thursday in Bayama, reported the official journalist Garcia Ginarte and it has been confirmed in Twitter by several sources on the Island.
…Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo on his account on the social network, who says he received the information from Teo, Sanchez and Escobar’s son. According to what Teo Escobar told the blogger, the activists were detained at 6:00 in the afternoon and were not permitted to make telephone calls until 3:00 in the morning, the time when his parents called him to report their arrest.
This September 28 they celebrated the fifty-second anniversary of the creation of the Committees for the Defense of the Revolution(CDR). In contrast to years past I did not see reports on Cuban television of two or three previously planned nighttime parties,”which customarily are celebrated on the 27thin “anticipation of the big day.” Normally, the national media “casually” attends these festivities in order to have broadcast images of CDR enthusiasm for the event. Instead, there was only one news report and it dealt with a daytime event in which the president of one committee spoke. His audience was a small group of passive and silent participants. There was not the usual interview with an ordinary member, who was “emotional and aroused” by theanniversary.
With the passage of years and the “permanent special period,” to which we Cubans living in this archipelago have been subjected, the festivities that were sponsored by these organizations have been replaced in the city by “a people’s cookout” featuring on an open-air caldosa* on each cuadra – the lineal space between the two corners of a block – and cheap rum for those who like alcohol. On the street where I live,in a cauldron blackened by poverty and evocative of the countryside,there was a pig’s head and two or three kinds of vegetables covered by a lot of water, all placed in the planting area in front of the house of my neighborhood’s CDR president. This time no music was heard during the very few and boring activities that took place, and the mood seemed to be more one of mourning than celebration.
This farcical institution — managed and founded decades ago to send a message of “consensus,” of a revolutionary honeymoon and a happy marriage between the citizenry and the authorities — is out of date. Almost no one expects anything positive from this organization, which has only offered interference in personal lives, surveillance, betrayal, nighttime security patrols — we never found out if they were acting in the role of police or of decoys — a lot of meetings, voluntary work brigades, rallies, marches and permanent blackmail through the use of negative reports if you did not actively participate in the tasks assigned by the organization.
After returning from a fact-finding tour of my neighborhood, I could see from my balcony the depressing sight of the few people willing to be served the “substantial” brew. They carried jugs, metal pitchers and other containers, gathering around the cauldron and, on command from a group of political warlocks with no future, conspire to annually expose their misfortunes.
*Translator’s note:Caldosais traditionally a thick broth or stew.After the Cuban revolution cooking it became a communal event in which neighbors brought whatever ingredients they had at hand. Some say this came about because of food scarcity; others believe that the change had more to do with the collective emphasis of socialism. (Source: cubaentuscon.blogspot.com)
The figures are disturbing. For over 30 years the Cuban women, on average, have less than one daughter by the end of their reproductive years.An aging population without any replacements.And it is only decreasing. BecauseCuba has begun to subtract inhabitants in absolute terms.
This conclusion came as a report from the National Bureau of Statistics in 2011. Add the ages of the three strongmen of the country, both Castros and Machado Ventura, and it totals 249 years. To add more drama to the aging population, annually more than 20,000 people aged between 10 and 45 years emigrate from Cuba.
One solution the Cuban government has come up with to fight the high ages and shrinking size of the population is to raise the retirement age for women and men to 60 and 65 years respectively.
A retired person earns a salary in Cuba, between 100 and 300 pesos (5 and 16 dollars) and that does not even cover 30% of their needs. For a citizen to have a breakfast and two meals a day requires no less than 2,500 pesos a month (113 dollars).
We also have the grave problem of the living quarters. Some 62% of the houses on the island are in either regular or bad state of repair. Three or four different generations have to live under the same roof.
When space is needed in the living quarters, the displaced are usually the elderly. The best option is for the grandparents to have to sleep with the grandchildren. The worst is that the family decides to put them in some run down State asylum.
There’s no worse lead up to death for an old person than to live in a State hospice. Badly treated, lack of hygiene and poor food. Already last year, more people died in Cuba than were born.
Obviously the haphazard and weak economy is not prepared to guarantee a decent life for the two million people over 60.
If currently the average age in Cuba is 38, in 2025 it will be 44. Almost 26% of the population will be over 60. By 2030, 3.3 million people will be over 60.
Today the group of Cubans older than 60 is 17.8%. It is more than the number of children ages 0 to 14 which is 17.3%. The ideal would be to promote policies to motivate women to have two or more children.
In Europe, the benefactor state usually pays a stipend to mothers with children. But the public coffers in Cuba are just about empty.
Since General Castro inherited power from his brother, the construction and social and leisure facilities for the population has dropped to almost zero. They only invest in projects that return hard currency, like tourism, or strategic projects such as petrochemicals or the transfer of water to the eastern region.
Therefore, one should not expect that at a meeting of the monotone National Parliament they will announce a cash incentive to encourage women to have more than one child. The accelerated aging in Cuba is a phenomenon that will have to be dealt with by a future government. By 2025 the Castro brothers will rest in a mausoleum or be two infirm elderly nearing the century mark.
The next president, in addition to aspiring to spectacular economic growth, will have to try to renegotiate the foreign debt and try to design a coherent society, inclusive and democratic.
All this work should be undertaken with an aging human capital. And the growing segment of women, professional or otherwise, who due to material scarcities put off forming a family.
To convince them that Cuba needs rejuvenation and more daughters would be a commendable task. We’ll see whether in ten years leaving for Florida continues to be the personal quest of many Cubans. Hopefully not.
