Santeria on the Stand / Miguel Iturria Savón

A young lawyer who sometimes invited me to his trials told me a few days ago about something unusual that happened in the Territorial Military Court in San Jose de las Lajas, to the south of Havana, where some Santeros filled the judges’ stand with dust, seeking a favorable result for their relatives, implicated in serious crimes. His client didn’t contract for the services of any witch, but received an unexpected penalty just like the other defendants.

The criminal attorney assumed that the decision was influenced by the discomfort of the judges before the trail of dust and other signs of witchcraft. On noticing “the work” the Head of the Chamber ordered the Registrar to find a cloth to “sweep away the trash.” The tension of the oral hearing with the interventions of the prosecutor, witnesses, the accused, the defense and the arbitration by the judge were warmed by the challenge of the alleged curse.

A friend notes that this is more common than many assume. Some believe that the engagement of a palero, a Santeria practitioner, can reverse the outcome of the trial and “soften the prosecutor’s proposal, tie the tongue of the attorney if his client is on the opposite side, or put into the mouth of the judge the orders of the “pot,” linked to the dead who assist the practitioner, who speaks with them through a complex system of divination that passes through the interpretation of the snails and the feeding of animals like a rooster, goat or sheep.

Although there are naive and opportunistic, the “godchildren” of paleros, santeros and babalawos believe in the power of those called on, the strength of the dead and the details of their own magical religious conception, which leads them to “throw the judges, the lawyer or the prosecutor” after exploring the possible sentence, so that sometimes, when passing by a ceiba tree or at the door of their houses, these powers of the law face signs of witchcraft.

The defense attorney doesn’t worry about “the mess in the pot” because he believes that every trial is a theatrical performance under pressure from above, through money or the police they invoke “secret operational tests” that complicate things for the accused, leaving the defense at a disadvantage, unless the Head Judge, committed to fairness, disregards the testimony of those in uniform.

He says that a few weeks back, a babalawo who got someone accused of molesting his stepdaughter out of jail, went through his house and instead of thanking him, told him he owed his freedom to Orula and Olofi, gods from the Yoruba pantheon, who advised him what to do during his confinement.

The faces of error of such a peculiar way of influencing justice are evident also in the Havana Provincial Court, where sometimes they have to dust off the stands and remove “other gifts” intended to appease judges, prosecutors and lawyers. According to the defense attorney friend, if anyone benefits it’s the family of the victim since the judges are not impressed and issue judgments without thinking about the anger of the dead or the power of Oshun, Yemaya and Orula.

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December 16 2010

Hoping for Another Press / Fernando Dámaso

Our official press, the only one authorized, has been characterized by a triumphalist approach to national events and friendly governments, and a catastrophic one toward all others, mainly the United States and the European Union. This narrow political and ideological prism determines what information is selected and written about, and even establishes its degree of importance. Thus we find headlines which in any normal country, would have no significance.

Another striking feature is the profusion of news related to problems in the country to the north and in Europe, to the detriment of the treatment of national affairs which should be the priority, since most readers are Cuban citizens. This situation forces us to seek national information outside the official media.

In recent years some space and time has been devoted to criticizing the national reality, of course, properly balanced and diluted among adverse weather conditions, the embargo (called the blockade), difficulties with supplies, transportation, etc., and without going too high up the scale of responsibilities, reaching only to the category of functionaries. These appear as those primarily to blame for the numerous political, economic and social setbacks, almost always because the didn’t comply with, or properly implement, directives from higher authorities.

Also, with a press that hides from reality, it is very difficult to clear the way to solve problems. If the reality is not known by the citizens, if there is not an open inquiry into its causes, if there is a continued insistence on hiding to not give the game away to the enemy, there is little that can be accomplished, despite all the calls-to-action and propaganda, with regards to civic responsibility.

Political, economic and social changes are needed. It is a national desire. A responsible press could facilitate it, without straightjackets, with journalists who exercise their profession honestly and are not mere functionaries, following orders, incapable of finding independent sources of news. These professionals have existed in our history. In this way a single press could be credible and respected.

December 28 2010

Costly Dreams / Laritza Diversent

José, with his 35 years, dreams of driving a convertible silver Audi. His eyes are open, it was not difficult for him to come back to reality when his fan stopped due to a blackout. The heat of the night activates his brain. He thought of a solution for his existential problems.

He wanted to prosper economically, but was convinced that anything he thought up would carry him over the line to illegality, and with it, the possibility of going to prison. “If I were Mexican, I’d risk my life crossing the border,” he said to himself. But he was in Cuba, a country that strictly regulates departures from the country.

He devised a plan to cross the 90 miles of sea that separated him from his American dream. Building a rustic vessel that he generously called a boat. He invited his two best friends to join in his enterprise. Each looked for two iron tanks (55 gallons), the kind that people commonly use to store their water reserves.

They began their work in the living room of his house. First they sealed the containers with no more than 20 liters of water inside. Then, they joined them together with angle brackets leaving space between them to put inflatable truck tires. They only lacked the installation of the keel to break the waves, when they heard a knock at the door.

They jumped out of their skin when they saw the chief of the sector, accompanied by two policemen in a patrol car. First they said that neighbors had complained about the noise of hammers and engines, and then that they had information that they were building a boat to leave the country.

They came with a search warrant which they executed on the spot. They seized what didn’t look much like a boat, and took them as detainees to the police station. To their astonishment they released them five hours later, without any penalty.

They were naive, because 15 days later they received a decision from the Harbor Master imposing a fine of 3,000 pesos in national currency, for building a boat without permission.

The infraction, described as very serious, is characterized in Decree Law 194 of June 19, 1999, “Of the infractions with regard to the possession and operation of vessels in the country,” supplemented by Resolution No. 2 of December 7, 1999 of the Ministry of the Interior which establishes procedures for its implementation.

The rule issued by the Council of State, considers 14 offenses and classifies them as minor, serious and very serious, punishable by fines ranging from 500 pesos to 10,000 pesos, including the possibility of subsidiary punishment of forfeiture. The Harbor Master is authorized to implement the sanctions.

José added to his already overwhelming economic problems a fine that exceeds what he could legally earn in a year. They say it costs nothing to dream, but trying to realize a dream can be very expensive.

Translated by Rick Schwag and Ivana Recmanova

December 25 2010

In a Coach, Down a Dark Alley / Ernesto Morales Licea

His face is a catalog of discouragement. Sitting with his elbows on his knees, his horse’s reins in his hands, he seems to me like a pillar of salt from another time. With several days growth of beard, and a yellowish coat he must have exhumed from a closet in these days of winter.

“Would you give me a second, please? I’m a journalist and would like to ask you a few questions.”

From his seat, over my head, he looks at me with discouragement. He doesn’t agree, nor refuse. He’s just there.

“I would like to ask you about the strike you people held a week ago,” I said, with fear that once again I would receive the same evasive answers as on my previous two attempts: a tattooed young man told me, next to his horse, “No brother, I wasn’t here that day”, and drifted away in a hurry; and a chunky old man, wearing a palm frond hat, answered in a more sincere way, “Look, I don’t want to get into more trouble, go ask someone else”.

A little over a week earlier the coachmen from my traditional Bayamo had undertaken an unthinkable action: two days of absolute strike. A strike in a country without strikes, a country with the only constitution in the planet that does not recognize such a right for its laborers.

The unusual news spread across the whole island: the news exclusive had made it all the way to my hospital bed in Havana through a young nurse who took it with natural cheerfulness, “Bayamian, the coachmen of your town are on strike. Let’s see if you people light the city on fire again.”

“I would like to know the causes of this strike, in essence, what were you demanding?” I asked him, vaguely hopeful before his silence, a silence that, at least, didn’t push me away from there as his coworkers had done, their voices paralyzed by fear; I could have been a State Security agent, an informant, a plainclothes cop.

He takes his time, chews his cigar and speaks without looking at me, as if something in the distance really caught his attention.

“Man, the only thing we were asking for was for them to leave us barely enough money to eat. That’s all. For them not to abuse us anymore.”

His words, said in the same peevish tone, thrill me. I wasn’t expecting this access to the truth.

“Why the abuse, what has changed?” I ask.

“The amount of money we have to pay the State now, in order for them to let us work. The taxes and payments due to thousands of different made up things they have recently imposed on us, just because.”

What is officially handled with the carefully chosen terms such as “Tax Adjustment,” is summed up for this man and for millions of other Cubans, as something very simple: the rates imposed by the Ministry of Prices and Finance for the practice of self-employment, in the majority of the cases, are simply exorbitant. It’s unsustainable.

Long before this forty-eight hour strike coming from a very humble sector, I had received news about the tax outrage. I heard testimonies from a neighborhood barber who, after twenty-six years of practice, was being forced to give up his work permit because the two-hundred pesos that the State fixed as his monthly share had become astronomical. In the last month, he had had to sell a couple of his possessions in order to make up the sum.

“How much were you paying before, and how much are you paying now? ” I proceed with my interview, afraid that the six people who would fill up his carriage would appear and my brief investigation would be cut short.

“Before, the monthly permit fee was 130 pesos. Now, they brought it up to 150 pesos, plus 87.50 pesos for Social Security, plus 10 percent of our daily earnings, for using this place to park our carriages.”

I tried to rapidly calculate the figure we were talking about, and asked him for daily numbers; quickly adding it up, we agreed on an approximate total for his monthly taxes: around 500 pesos.

The carriages in Bayamo have, for some time, left off being traditional museum and classic colony pieces, to become a solution to the severe urban transportation problems.

Every morning, a legion of workers paid 1 Cuban peso and traveled on them to hospitals, schools, grocery stores. Waiting for the city buses had become, for many, an unbearable chimera, alleviated only by these mobile artifacts, an unequivocal symbol of the villa founded in 1513 by the vicious Spaniard Diego Velazquez.

And all of a sudden, on an ordinary morning, the daily peso for the carrier doubled and in some cases, it tripled; the coachmen had just raised the prices of their fares, and the laborers’ salaries remained the same: 300 pesos, average, a month. The math was stressful for those who had to travel on them daily.

“The thing started from problems with the people, look,” he tells me, and now, for the first time I think he’s engaging in our conversation. “We had more discussions than trips. Many didn’t want to pay us, they would call us thieves. And the only thing we could say was, ‘Go complain to the authorities! We don’t want to raise prices, but they’re forcing us to!’ We were like that for almost a month. Until we had to get together and present the problems. And a moment came where we couldn’t take it anymore, young man, and we had to stop.”

His words spill out as he vents. They carry the suppressed anger, vibrant, of someone who can’t resign himself to it all.

The day they reported they wouldn’t work anymore, the State forced private trucks and buses, with other routes, to cover their trips. Not one person from the union was able to intervene, not a voice from those other transportation modes was allowed to protest: the master spoke, you could only obey.

On the second day, they gathered them at the headquarters of the provincial Government, bearing a peculiar and fragmented manual of intelligence. Never all together. They relied on the ancient maxim, “Divide and conquer.”

They pressured them in small groups. Under the guise of more clearly explaining the mechanisms they removed the seeds of disagreement with sophisticated threats: if they persisted on keeping their reactionary position they would forever lose their license.s They would no longer be able to work with their animals, which by the way, had cost them several thousands.

“Imagine for yourself if the people had not been intimidated,” he makes a gesture of annoyance, drowsing in his seat again at the level of my forehead. “We all have children here, families. We all have to kill the hunger, and this is the about the only thing we know. There are many who can’t even recover their initial investment, you understand? Who would continue after that?”

I could imagine the rest of the story, though the man didn’t tell me. I assumed from the fear, the hesitant speech, the refusals I’d received previously: it was the panic of being branded counterrevolutionaries. The investigations by the intelligence services, the interrogations to determine the leaders of the discontent; they were, in those days, taking over the area with their inexhaustible presence, the repressors with kid gloves from State Security. In Cuba they cannot allow the sowing of public unrest.

This is, in effect, the chronicle of an announced conflict: the grandiose plan to revive the Cuban economy not only contemplates the layoffs of hundreds of thousands; not only does it contemplate permits to exercise ridiculous professions — button-coverer, scissors grinder — to make a personal livelihood; but it includes, in addition, a Cyclopean increase in taxes for all private businesses, although the fundamental ingredient, money, continues to be absent from the family horizon.

The immediate consequence? Thousands of self-employed workers thinking, with anger and helplessness, about giving up the work that in the last years had allowed them to feed themselves, badly. Offering a license placed at an impossible height. Infinite shame should be the only name of this congress.

“Thanks very much for your time,” I say, by way of goodbye, when I see that our fleeting interview is ending. “And have a good day.”

I turned and before taking off I heard his voice again, and I paused for another second, looking again at his face without dreams or hopes.

“Don’t mention my name in what you write, boy,” he says, and I can barely suppress my pain, furious frustration, at hearing this plea from an adult man, independent, whom the system has completely neutralized with fear. “The only thing they haven’t done to me is seize the coach for saying things I shouldn’t.”

I make a gesture with my hand: don’t worry about it, it won’t be me who will threaten his poor living for his family.

I return to my personal bubble, suffering in silence for a hostile reality, that every day is more incompatible with the happiness of Cubans; a reality that from my earliest awareness has only threatened to worsen, bringing worse news, worse years, more acute shortages. Returning to my laboratory of ideas I can’t stop thinking about a phrase of the poet Lezama Lima who asked, with biting bitterness, how can we find out way out of this dark alley.

Translated by Angelica Betancourt

December 15, 2010

CIVIC MANIFESTO TO CUBAN COMMUNISTS / Dimas Castellanos, Eugenio Leal, Miriam Celaya

The informal announcement of the VI Congress of the PCC, to be held in April, 2011, has been accompanied by the publication of the Draft Guidelines which summarize the topics to be covered at the most important meeting of the only party in Cuba. This document contains some positive aspects, especially those showing a clear understanding of the deep structural crisis that the country is experiencing and others, showing the direction the proposed solutions are headed. But its limitations, its unilateral and sectarian character, and the unjustifiable omission of matters of dire importance to the present and the future of the nation, have motivated us to comment on basic elements not considered by the top leadership of the PCC, without the inclusion of which it won’t be possible to make strides of any depth or speed.

Some of these fundamentals are:

* The project is a straitjacket made without consultation, designed to truncate debate about issues that affect all Cubans and cover all spheres of national life. It is the outline of an agenda that, in the absence of essential rights and freedoms of democracy, rules out the participation of citizens in its proposals.

* It is inconceivable for a political party to avoid political debate and at the same time to try to keep the economy subject to ideology, a method that has already demonstrated its unviability for over half a century.

* The current situation clearly reflects two possibilities: either the Cuban model is unachievable, or the government has failed in its application. Therefore, essential self-criticism must be imposed wherever failure of the model that the government has followed to date is officially recognized, and the governing body’s responsibility in its implementation.

* If the model failed, it is not wise to update it, but to change it, which would also imply a referendum to change the players.

* The measures the government has been proposing in recent years in order to reverse the critical national socio-economic plight are transitory, outdated and clearly inadequate, because they suffer from a lack of realism. The Cuban crisis will not be reversed as long as the effect that the applied conceptions regarding property issues have had on the failure of the model are not recognized, and until they are fundamentally changed. This should be coupled with the necessary inclusion of nationals in the proposed investment processes. Maintaining the system of excluding Cubans — far from enhancing productivity and economic progress — establishes an obstacle to productive development.

* Any attempt to improve the situation in Cuba goes through the full implementation of human rights in its indivisible nature, whose Covenants, signed in February of 2008, have not yet been ratified by the Government. The consummation of this achievement not only implies the unconditional release of all political prisoners, but in-depth legal modifications that tolerate the legalization of political dissent.

* We have already exceeded the time limit for the implementation of partial reforms. No reform in Cuba can be confined to the domestic economy sphere, since the crisis spans the whole system. It requires, therefore, proposals of a systemic nature that cannot derive exclusively from the ruling party that has not even proposed a new program to replace the previous one — fruit of the Third Congress of 1986 — failed and forgotten.

* Cuba is urged to overcome the philosophy of survival. People aspire to live and prosper, not to resist. Cubans have a right to prosper from the proceeds of their efforts. A ban on the demonization of prosperity must be imposed.

* Any new model that is proposed should emphatically proclaim the end of the so-called Special Period and the beginning of a period of normality, based on agreed-upon principles which can be relied on, as part of a new social pact.

* The Cuban government has implicitly acknowledged that the country is economically dependent on foreign capital. However, external assistance should only be subject to compliance with internationally recognized principles with respect to rights, and full people-participation, which, up to now, Cubans lack. Investors may not become rich as a result of the absence of rights in Cuba. Paradoxically, the violation of these principles obliterates the intentions to establish social justice stemming from the socialist system.

* The updated model proposed by the Government is not “a model for man” but calls, instead for “Man for a model.” Man is subordinated to the economic and ideological interests of the ruling party. By keeping the sacrificial status of individuals in this system it is clear that this is not a humanistic model.

* Economic advances are not possible if they are separate from exchange and free access to information. The government monopoly on information networks denies the potential of a people who achieved high levels of education and constitutes a violation of their rights.

* The absence of alternation, nepotism, and the lack of limits on the terms in public office become a brake on development. The responsibility in the face of failures, linked to the accumulation of interests on the part of a group established in power in perpetuity, also tends to perpetuate the Cuban crisis and makes the collapse of the system irreversible. Reality demands a reform in this plane so that the existence of other policy options will force the government to successfully fulfill its mission at the head of the nation’s destiny.

This manifesto is signed on December 1st, 2010 by:

Dimas Castellanos

Miriam Celaya

Reinaldo Escobar

Rogelio Fabio Hurtado

Eugenio Leal

Rafael León

Rosa María Rodríguez

Wilfredo Vallín

Goodbye to Rationing / Yoani Sánchez

Every day brings us closer to the new year and, with it, the growing alarm over the job cuts and reductions in subsidies we face in the coming months. A phrase from Raul Castro’s latest speech — “continuing on the edge of the precipice” — is not a metaphor but our painful reality. Among the social assistance that will be eliminated is the so-called ration market, which distributes a small monthly quota of products to each citizen. No one can survive eating only what is recorded in his “ration book,” a document more important here than even the identity card. But the extremely low wages in the high prices in the country’s other markets make the abolition of this subsidy dramatic and highly controversial.

It is not only a basic, though meager, support, but it is like the birdseed that justifies the cage. Whenever the tone of criticism rises, and dissenters began to point to the system, officials emerge to remind us that the government spends millions each year to provide us a few beans, a packet of coffee every thirty days, and that slice of bologna that feeds popular humor more than stomachs. So it has been for more than forty years, since the establishment of the regulated market at a time when my parents thought it would be a temporary, a transitional measure until the planned and centralized economy began to bear fruit. Within a few days of my birth, my name was inscribed in the register of consumers, and twenty years later I had to enter the name of my son in the same list. Rationing has become so ingrained in our lives many do not know whether to laugh or cry at the news of its end.

We are all aware that keeping the “booklet” is unsustainable for the national economy, but few can imagine life without it. In our house, we have decided to put the little book of graph paper we’ve been given for 2011 in a safe place, because if it really is the last one, surely it will become an historic document. Those who defend its immediately elimination are sure that it will mean the automatic placement of tons of goods on the free market, and they assume this will cause prices to drop in the market not regulated by the state. But the biggest change, perhaps, may be in the minds of the people, when they sense that the tiny portion of seed is no longer being placed inside the cage, they may begin to feel the real pressure of each one of the bars.

December 29, 2010

Platform for the abolition of the death penalty in Cuba now, tomorrow, and forever / IntraMuros

We invite you to participate in this platform because we have the profound conviction that life is something sacred and should be an indispensable value in the Republic we desire.

We understand that respect for life as a supreme value is a moral principle that can be assumed by believers and non-believers. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, in its Article 3, is energetic and affirms that “Every individual has the right to life”.

The abolition of the death penalty in Cuba, now, tomorrow, and forever can be our first commitment as a nation. A commitment that — assumed by Cubans on the island and those in exile — demands of the Cuban Government its immediate suppression and stimulates transition toward an authentic democracy.

Capital punishment remains in effect in the Cuban Penal Code. It is true that at present the regime maintains a de facto moratorium on the application of said sanction, but we all know that it’s due to tactical conveniences and not due to a questioning of the moral nature of the same. For this reason, it was sadly applied in 2003 after several years of not having been used. All Cubans, especially those condemned to death, know that the regime keeps this terrifying resource intact and that it can be applied at any moment.

In the free world the death penalty tends to disappear from legislation or has been overruled by moratoria that make its application a de facto impossibility. Besides defense of human life, there exist different reasons that have motivated these important advances.

The reality is that no judicial system can guarantee the absence of errors that can lead to the execution of an innocent person. It’s a fact that in recent times, thanks to DNA tests, many convicts have been freed, victims of errors or judicial omissions.

Another argument to consider is in the case of a murder, the punishment doesn’t serve as retribution for the crime committed, as it cannot repair the loss of a dear one with the execution of the murderer; on another count, how many times can we execute someone who has killed many? We have one life alone and one death alone.

Also arguable is the example of the death penalty, the crime rate is no lower in countries that apply it and the executions of Nazi leaders in Nuremberg haven’t dissuaded genocide, to cite recent cases alone, such as those of Slobodan Milosevic or Saddam Hussein.

On the other hand, the experience of many democratic countries demonstrates that, if adequate legislation is established and social and political pacts are observed that enable its systematic application, social peace can be guaranteed without the violent physical elimination of its enemies being necessary in a State of Law.

In Cuba’s case, the usual subordination of judicial to political power and the present deteriorating material, moral, and civic conditions make us doubt that Cuban justice, now and in the near-term future, will be able to guarantee due process to anyone condemned to death.

We share the conviction that Cuba’s future has an urgent need of justice and perhaps now is the time to ask ourselves if it is desirable that in this future, the application of the death penalty should continue in effect; if the justice we seek requires the spilling of other Cubans’ blood.

We do not believe that the death penalty serves as retribution for harm committed in our Motherland and, much less, that it contributes to guarantee a social peace that can be fully attained with the restoration of a State of Law and the citizen compromise with adequate legislation, and with social pacts that emanate from democracy.

To proclaim the necessity of the death penalty in Cuba’s future contributes to that our children and grandchildren, parents and siblings of those who might be judged shall be less disposed to accept a justice that might include capital punishment. Eliminating capital punishment from whichever Cuban penal code will bring safety in the process of the transition toward democracy, guaranteeing that said sanction shall not be used as revenge or as a method of eliminating one’s enemy.

We believe that those who wish for and manage change in Cuba — whatever be its level of compromise — would appreciate an agreement of this nature, especially those inside the regime who might wish to move in a direction toward authentic democracy.

This agreement for the abolition of the death penalty in Cuba shares some values that are defended by the chancelleries around the world, especially those of Europe, where the death penalty provokes great rejection; this citizen’s platform will plant an important moral and diplomatic challenge for those who govern in Havana.

Cuban society, for decades, has been doomed to depreciate life and render worship to death: “The Motherland or Death”, “Socialism or Death” have been the slogans par excellence. We have gained nothing on that road, let us allow life — not death — to be the cornerstone of our future.

We invite you to sign this proposal for the abolition of the death penalty in Cuba now, tomorrow, and always.

December 9, 2010

The Pork’s Leg / Rebeca Monzo

Cristina was all busy preparing the leg of pork she had struggled for, after putting up with an excruciating line. She jealously guarded a secret family recipe.

Christmas Eve arrived and Cristina presented the dish that she was so proud of, together with the usual black beans and white rice. Everyone loved the roast. “My friend, please tell me what your secret is,” and “Why do you cut off the stump from the leg? Does it have anything to do with the recipe?”

“Look, I’m not going to share the recipe, but don’t take it personally, but about the little stump, the truth is that I don’t know why it is done that way, my mother did it like that and she says that’s how my grandmother did it. Better we should ask her.”

Days later when they went to grandma’s house, the famous little leg and its amputation came up in the conversation.

Faced with the unusual question, the grandmother, who was very old already but who has perfect memory, responded with an angelic smile and declared, “My girl, there is no mystery here! What happened was that the oven in my kitchen was very small so we had to cut the leg so it would fit. What I don’t understand is why you and your mom still do the same, even though you have larger ovens!”

Translated by Rick Schwag

December 25, 2010

Cuba Also Has Anti-immigrant Laws / Laritza Diversent

Not infrequently, the Cuban government has spoken out against anti-immigrant laws in developed countries. However, nobody could imagine that there are legal regulations on the island similar to SB 1070, which was passed by U.S. state of Arizona on April 23 and which authorizes state police to arrest people suspected of being an illegal immigrant.

In 2008 the National Assembly expressed its rejection of the Return Directive approved by the European Parliament, calling it a blatant and shameful violation of human rights, the Convention on the Rights of the Child and various international regulations. However, it lets the government punish a citizen who stays in the nation’s capital without permission.

The only difference between the U.S. state and Cuba is that, the former adopted a single legal standard, and on the island there are several: Decree 217 “Internal Immigration Regulations for Havana” of 1997, Decree No. 248, “System of Identification and Registration of Voters” and its rules, and Resolution No. 6 / 07 of the Interior Ministry, both from 2007.

The last two make it illegal for a citizen to live in a new home for more than 30 days without submitting a change of address and his entry in the Registry of Addresses. In addition they require that Cubans over the age of 16 must carry and show identification to the authorities and their agents, whenever requested.

Since 1971, the Cuban government controls the movement of citizens within the national territory, through the Population Registry and Registry of Addresses. These institutions are run by the Ministry of the Interior, a State body responsible for controlling the country’s internal and external migration, complemented by the record books kept by the Committees for the Defense of the Revolution.

For its part, Decree 217 prevents people from other provinces from residing in Havana, the capital of the country, without prior government authorization.

The regulation issued by the Executive Committee of the Council of Ministers establishes a system of personal offenses punishable by fines ranging from 200 pesos to 1000 pesos in national currency, for those who violate its provisions. In every case it requires the offenders to return immediately to their place of origin

The application of this provision also violates personal freedom because the law enforcement agencies are authorized to detain, arrest and deport to their places of origin, people suspected of being an illegal in the capital. However, no criminal regulation criminalizes the stay in the capital as a crime.

There is no doubt about the hypocritical attitude of a government that defines itself as a defender of human rights and criticizes the European Union and the United States for their anti-immigrant policies, when it severely restricts its own nationals from freedom of movement within the island.

Translated by Rick Schwag

December 27, 2010

The Worst Guarded Secrets in the World / Ernesto Morales Licea

The Australian Julian Assange has succeeded: his Wikileaks website is today’s star of the headlines. I do not think that the history of politics contains another incident more exotic and fit for Hollywood, and one where the revelations of the diplomacy of a certain government mixes so many nations in a complex skein, to the point where it starts to look very like backyard gossip.

Assange, who has just been arrested in London and will soon face some timely charges alleging sexual abuse and harassment in Sweden, has benched Osama Bin-Laden with regards to who attracts the greatest gringo hostility: he has become public enemy number one, starting on the day he announced he had 250,000 Department of State documents up his sleeve. And especially now that he has cleared up any doubts and proved to us he wasn’t joking.

Now that his website makes it easy to find a range of classified documents about the relations of the United States with the world, and has moved Hillary Clinton, and apparently will continue moving the global chessboard of foreign relations, various aspects of the “Wikileaks” case are of particular interest.

International reactions: With the exception of a handful of lawless governments or opportunists — among whom I would like to exclude my country, but I can’t — who have received the news like kryptonite for their rabid anti-Americanism, the vast majority of nations have condemned the leaking of these documents, some publicly, some less so.

It is not, however, about an epidemic of morality. The causes of this widespread rejection point, rather, to the feeling common among politicians: As Mexico’s former ambassador to the United States, Jorge Montaño, recently said, there is nothing extraordinary about the tone in which U.S. diplomats communicate with their superiors on subjects of “strategic” interest. Harder things, in more direct language, are shared among politicians of any nation with a domestic naturalness. And here, let he who is without sin cast the first stone: show us your records.

The only difference between current American diplomacy and that of all other countries, is that Julian Assange chose as a victim the most powerful nation in the world, while the dirty laundry of our governments, at least for now, remains in the shade. The choice is certainly more than reasonable: I do not think any newspaper in the world would have devoted their front page to leaks about the foreign policy of Equatorial Guinea.

Incidentally, we Cubans cherish a stupendous Wikileak, the precursor of those newly released: A couple of years before leaving — officially — the presidency of the republic, our former President Fidel Castro published, in full, a telephone conversation he had with the Mexican President Vicente Fox in which he “diplomatically” urged him to leave his country so as not to cause an embarrassing incident when George W. Bush arrived at the Summit of the Americas. El Comandante was, that time too, a visionary pioneer: the first Wikileaker in history.

Another interesting aspect of the case in question is as follows: From the point of view of freedom of expression, is it respectable or censurable to air objectionable information of governmental interest?

According to the President of the Inter American Press Association, Gonzalo Marroquín, who was asked by CNN about it, it is perfectly respectable for an individual, exercising his right to free expression — guaranteed even by the American First Amendment — to publish documents of public interest if it is within his power to do so. But Marroquín had to acknowledge that the investigation must focus on whether Julian Assange’s accessing of these reports was in violation of any recognized legal provision, in which case it would be subject to a legal, not a journalistic, analysis.

Let’s be clear: Of course there is no way to take over 250,000 State documents without violating the law, unless there is a Department of Copying and Reproducing Diplomatic Documents to which one can come with a flash memory and say, “Please …” Julian Assange’s revelations constitute a personal outrage whose reasons are still unknown (did the Australian ever reveal his real intentions?), and cannot be watched with approval, although they can be with amusement, by citizens possessing civic awareness.

But from the standpoint of universal human rights, which are respected in democracies, Wikileaks itself should be able to publish these records without being censured for it, and without the server behind his portal being knocked out as was accomplished by some higher American spheres, just because someone does not want certain issues to be known.

For its part, and from another perspective, the U.S. government is already accumulating so many lessons that I see no difference from an irresponsible kid in kindergarten: They had to “learn” from security mistakes relating to the Twin Towers; they had to learn from the incident involving a couple of citizens who snuck into the White House and took photos with President Obama, making a mockery of presidential security; and now they must learn to keep their secrets better if they don’t want to see them in the headlines. In the United States today, in many ways, “security” is a word with atherosclerosis.

However, we must recognize, leaving aside political seriousness, and leaving aside our admittedly boorish anticipation of what Oracle Wikileaks is going to surprise us with next, there is something positive that has come from this unusual scandal: It is not only Big Brother who watches the citizens. The citizens have also learned to monitor Power.

Who knows if, after all, these media revelations might generate unexpected side effects among the governments of the world which, though annoying to politicians, would be applauded by us citizens: the obligation to play ever more cleanly, more honestly, and more respectfully, just in case the Wikileaks custom sweeps through the world like one more plague.

December 7, 2010

Bitter Candy / Miriam Celaya

Orlando Luís photograph

Old Rubén is over 80 years old, but he is one of those whose “suckling pigs will not die in his belly,” so, since he retired more than a decade ago, he has always sought ways to round out his meager pension and increase his income. So old and already infirm, he must spend a fortune on his meds every month, but he won’t complain or veg out in a rocking chair, so every day around noon and in the afternoon he leaves his house and walks toward some school’s entrance so he can sell candy.

Rubén has thus found a way to stay active and, at the same time, make some extra money, though a few times he has had to run away as fast as his tired legs will allow because the police harasses all “illegal activity”, even the small escapade of an old man struggling to survive this shipwreck. At times, they have caught Rubén and he has lost his profits and his “merchandise”; on more than one occasion they have “warned him” that if he continues the activity, they will apply “other stronger measures”, but it would not be honest of me to deny that on several occasions the agents have let him go with his candy and his few little pesos… “Old man, behave yourself and stay put at home!” “I don’t want to see you with candy or anything, OK?” But, after a few days, when the wallet starts to wane, Rubén once again fetches the candy and peers cautiously around the school. One has to make a living!

However, these days Rubén has received bad news. Lalo, his candy supplier, as old and worn as Rubén, has decided to submit the license application to manufacture the goodies. Police and inspectors will have declared war on him, and he feels a constant watch on his home, making it difficult to work; sugar is difficult to obtain, and has greatly increased in price… He already has a tired heart and is not up to these sudden shocks. The problem is that we now Lalo will have to do twice the work: cook up the candy and go out and sell them, because – according to the “new reforms” implemented by General Raúl (a little old man who doesn’t have to sell candy) — if Lalo contracted with Rubén and other sellers of his products, he would have to pay social security taxes for each “employee,” which would reduce to a minimum his own profits and make his efforts completely inoperative.

Now Rubén is scheming to see what new market to explore. He might accept the proposal of a numbers bookie in his neighborhood and may become one of his runners. Rubén has always been good with numbers, knows thousands of tricks, and the old man is very lucid. On the other hand, he has the air of a semi-orphan which could serve to dispel the suspicions of distrustful neighbors. He would have preferred not to get into this mess, but he knows that he “cannot stop” because his legs feel more awkward with every passing day; the day may come when he is confined to a wheel chair, and “by then, I must have saved my pennies.” Besides – and this is what I admire most in Rubén — “One has to make a living!!”

Translated by Norma Whiting

December 10, 2010

Poverty as a Goal / Fernando Dámaso

Reading a cable from the Prensa Latina agency, I am informed that 22% of a total of 44,500,000 Latinos who live in the United States live below the poverty line. Stated another way, 34,710,000 live above this level and 9,790,000 below. I don’t know specifically what that level is. It would be marvelous if in Latin America only 22% of its citizens lived below poverty levels. Another figure from Prensa Latina: in its entirety, in the country (the United States) the poverty level is 13.5%, which means that 86.5% live above this level. It is an enviable percentage, which I think few countries attain.

Analyzing these percentages and figures, I asked some known people who work in this sphere what was the indicator level of poverty in Cuba. All answered that it doesn’t exist and one added that it was because in Cuba there were no poor people. I remembered that neither were there any unemployed and that the country, at least in its official statistics, reported only 3.6% unemployment.

I worked out some figures and came to these results. If the average monthly salary doesn’t exceed 400 pesos in national currency, that which is equivalent to 16.66 convertible pesos, or stated another way, some 20 dollars (keeping in mind the 20% duty imposed on the dollar), the average annual salary is 240 dollars. I believe this average annual salary (I am not talking about annual minimum salary) is far below poverty level, not just of the United States, but of all the countries of Latin America.

You can assert, correctly, that the Cuban people live below the poverty line, with well-known exceptions, mitigated, in part, by remittances sent by family members from overseas, the deviation of resources, and illegal businesses. Perhaps someone — a stranger to reality, might point out free education and medical attention — certainly deficient enough — but one shouldn’t forget that these are paid for with that which is left over after paying workers, maintaining miserable salaries for more than fifty years.

In the new economic measures, in process of analysis and implementation, it has been left very clear that the taxation process to be applied has as its goal to not allow citizens to become wealthy. It would be necessary to ask if the level had already been set, starting at which one might consider a citizen rich. In this way we only grant another recognition to the current poverty, and prevents the legal creation of riches, the only way out of the current crisis.

December 23, 2010

The Words of Luis Alberto García / Claudia Cadelo

Click image to go to original blog post and listen to recording

Although I received an invitation by mail and by text messages from a number of friends to go to the National Plastic Arts Award Ceremony for the artist René Francisco, I didn’t go. Since that Pedro Luis Ferrer concert, where I discovered that I am banned from entering the National Museum of Fine Arts and other Cuban cultural institutions, I’ve been overtaken by a strange, “Because as long as that flag is flying, I vowed not to enter.*”

Now my relationship with my country’s art has become subtle and intimate: fragments of event reach me through cables and USB ports. It’s probably much more exciting to listen to Luis Alberto García in person, rather than alone in my house with headphones. But I’ve decided that until freedom of expression in Cuba is more than a performance, I won’t participate.

*Translator’s note: A line from a poem by Jose Marti, loosely translated to convey Claudia’s meaning.

Generalizing the Blame / Fernando Dámaso

In my country there is this unfortunate custom of generalizing blame. Thus, when someone commits errors and, for one reason or another, sees himself obligated to explain them publicly, he doesn’t say “I made a mistake” but “we made a mistake.” He involves everyone who listens, be it ten, a thousand, or a million people. It must come from the supposition that shared blame touches fewer. Without a doubt, it’s a comfortable and advantageous position.

Anywhere the Constitution and laws are respected, when a public figure makes a mistake and, as a result, affects the lives of citizens, he should answer for it, and until he can, be separated from his duties. Examples are superfluous. Conceding the right to correct one’s errors is not the most usual course, much less to do so repeatedly. Just as no one is indispensable, no one possesses absolute truth — if he fails, he should leave the road free to those more capable and with better solutions. This practice excludes no one.

In closed systems, where power is obtained to hold onto it until the last breath, errors and mistakes repeat cyclically, using the nation as a laboratory and its citizens as guinea pigs, to experiment as it might occur to someone, without any concern for the costs, or the failures, and without having to account for them.

It’s something complex and difficult to solve, but not impossible. Each of us can start taking responsibility for our irresponsibilities and substituting the “we” with “I.” Thus the blame never becomes diluted, and it has a name. Nobody should be considered infallible nor untouchable. This would be a healthy and civilized way to clear paths.

With the advent of a new year, it’s right to think about these things and dream that they might come true, for at least — after so many failed years — to not lose the little optimism that still remains.

December 25, 2010

About Dining Rooms and Diners / Miriam Celaya

Luis Orlando photo

Several days ago, I was reading some works published on a site that switches between the informal and the official. Contrary to what many may believe, it is interesting to meet views opposing to one’s own, especially if they provide elements that force us to tune-up the arguments, or – as in this case – when it deals with personal testimony that allows us to face facts that, no matter how you look at them, affects many, independent of their individual political preferences or ideology.

I do not intend to hash out an article, but to comment on one of the topics to be addressed: the elimination of workplace lunchrooms as a way to alleviate the extreme “subsidies” hanging over this indulgent father they call the State. The “measure” was announced loudly over a year ago in the national media and was implemented experimentally in several work places, whose workers would now receive the sum of 15 pesos (national currency) in place of each lunch. Many of these workers received the news of the end of their mess halls with real pleasure, and with good reason: those who worked all 24 workdays of each month would receive a total of 360 pesos under this model, in addition to their salary. In some cases, taking into consideration that the amount was the same for all workers regardless of salary scales or complexity and responsibility of their positions, lower-income employees would have a substantial increase in income over their own salaries. It goes without saying that the workers who were not chosen for the experiment hopefully and anxiously awaited the measure to be extended to everyone in the work centers.

With the enthusiastic immediacy that characterizes any revolutionary initiative in this country, the experiment began with the purpose of verifying the results in order to extend the measure to all workplaces. However, though the matter has not been mentioned again, the lunchrooms have gradually been disappearing from countless workers centers without workers getting any compensation in return, since they were not among the elected at the start of the great experiment. The ones who were excluded, therefore, do not have lunchrooms or the benefit of the redeeming 15 pesos, though compliance with the rigorous 8-hour workday established by law is maintained. It must be noted, by way of parenthesis, that these laws also state that a 9-hour shift without a lunch break cannot be fulfilled, so – with their wicked skill — management of each work center has been careful to maintain an hour of recess intended for workers’ lunch breaks, when they must find a way of eating, be it by reducing their meager incomes to buy whatever “street” food seems cheapest (therefore devoid of any quality) or by eroding their no less flagging household food stocks, with all the inconveniences that entails. By the way, in spite of the problems it causes, I don’t have any information that the slightest workers strike has taken place… nor will it ever. You can take that to the bank.

Beyond the small gastronomic and financial tragedy, however, isn’t it truly cynical that the government’s experiment decided to allocate 15 pesos to each worker to buy his own lunch? As I see it, if the officials themselves conceived that that amount was essential for an individual to obtain a simple lunch; if, in addition, it is well-known that a median Cuban income is approximately 300 pesos, isn’t it tantamount to official recognition that an individual’s income in Cuba is barely enough to guarantee one meal a day per person? This is, from my view, the crux of the problem. The drama lies not, as seems to be projected in the opinion of some who are affected, whether or not they are granted 15 pesos for each lunch or whether they maintain a trough (not “lunchroom”) which guarantees a miserable and generally bad food ration in their workplace at a nominal price. The real tragedies are that the salary earned after a month’s work is not even enough to satisfy the most basic feeding of an individual, let alone of a whole family; that the State Chiefs — aware of this — should wash their hands of the matter and that the ever-victims should continue to suffer in silence the scorn and arrogance of these XXI century slave drivers.

Translated by Norma Whiting

December 7, 2010