Miami: The power of Cuban exiledom totters
A
political transition is in the works, experts say; Democratic
candidates might take over
By
David Brooks
From
La Jornada
MIAMI,
Aug. 18 — For almost half a century, people in this city have waited
for a change of regime in Havana. It so happens that the transition
is occurring right here, in Miami.
This
shift, now manifesting itself in the local and state political
dynamics, has potentially historic dimensions, particularly for the
national electoral map and bilateral relations between the United
States and Cuba.
The
most visible manifestation of the change taking place in Miami is
that two, and maybe all, of the three Cuban-American members of
Congress who represent this city and who…
A
political transition is in the works, experts say; Democratic
candidates might take over
By
David Brooks Read Spanish Version
From
La Jornada
MIAMI,
Aug. 18 — For almost half a century, people in this city have waited
for a change of regime in Havana. It so happens that the transition
is occurring right here, in Miami.
This
shift, now manifesting itself in the local and state political
dynamics, has potentially historic dimensions, particularly for the
national electoral map and bilateral relations between the United
States and Cuba.
The
most visible manifestation of the change taking place in Miami is
that two, and maybe all, of the three Cuban-American members of
Congress who represent this city and who spearhead the policy of
blockade against the island face — for the first time — real
competition for what used to be almost guaranteed reelections.
In
fact, Lincoln Díaz-Balart, the best-known figure here, who
represents the conservative power of Cuban-Americans, is in serious
danger of losing his post in the November elections to Democrat Raúl
Martínez, according to the most recent surveys and the
opinions of analysts interviewed here.
Mario
Díaz-Balart, Lincoln’s brother, is being challenged by Joe
García, who once was a leader of the same organization that
initially carried the Díaz-Balarts to power: the Cuban
American National Foundation (CANF).
If
only one of the Democrats wins, said Cuban-American analyst Francisco
Aruca in an interview with La Jornada, "that would represent the
beginning of the end, the collapse of the right in Miami."
Aruca, director of Radio Progreso and a commentator in one of the few
spaces in Miami media that is not controlled by the conservative wing
of Cuban exiledom, feels optimistic (as others do) because "people
here are losing their fear" of those who used to govern with a
hard fist and threatened anyone who dissented from the line they
imposed.
Although
all the opposition candidates have defined themselves as critics of
the Cuban regime and say they are not advocating any radical turn in
U.S. policy toward the island, they are bold enough to point out that
Washington’s 5-decade-old strategy has failed. That opinion was
unthinkable just a few years ago.
Above
all, their campaigns themselves represent an opening in Miami that
might alter this state’s traditional role in national politics and in
relations with Latin America.
Sergio
Bendixen, a pollster and Democratic Party political adviser, believes
that at this time the campaign will reflect the changes that have
transformed this city in the past decade. Even though those changes
have been mostly ignored outside Miami, "it’s an approaching
change," he says.
The
factors that foster a political transition in Miami are multiple,
says Álvaro Fernández, a veteran political organizer,
editor of the e-zine Progreso Weekly, and the regional director of an
organization for the promotion of the Latino vote, called the
Southwest Voter Registration Education Project (SVREP).
On
one hand, there is a generational change within the Cuban-American
community, as the principal, most influential figures of Cuban
exiledom grow old or die. Among the latter was Jorge Mas Canosa, the
CANF’s founder and the community’s principal interlocutor with
Washington, who died in 1997. His absence led to a breakup and
division inside the conservative community here.
The
new generations, along with the immigrants who arrived after 1980,
are beginning to take different positions, or at least don’t share
the stance of exiles who arrived in the 1960s. Even more alarming for
the old guard, whose special relationship with the Republican Party
gave the GOP its only Hispanic base, the new Cuban migrants, as they
become citizens, opt to register more as Democrats or Independents
than as Republicans, Fernández says.
On
the other hand, a demographic change both in Miami and Florida is
transforming electoral calculations. "Miami is increasingly more
Latin, yet less Cuban," Fernández comments, pointing out
that more Colombians, Venezuelans, Central Americans and Mexicans
have moved here. In fact, for the first time the Cubans are not a
majority among the state’s Latinos, something that is creating
changes in the electoral calculations, both local and national.
At
the same time, some politicians, analysts and campaign organizers
here point out that another factor of the change is the transition in
Cuba itself. Both newcomers and veterans of the political battles
here say that the basic consensus in the community is that Cuba and
its revolution cannot exist without Fidel Castro. But as Cuba fails
to disintegrate in the face of Castro’s illness and absence and
marches on with its process of transition without any of the
disasters and blowouts that were predicted here, the credibility of
the entire conservative sector is coming under questioning. Along
with sectors of new immigrants who wish to maintain relations with
their families on the island through trips and money remittances, the
basis of the old argument about the embargo and the previously
almost-universal support for that policy are beginning to vanish.
In
this manner, the political transition in Cuba is forcing a political
transition in Miami.
In
Fernández’s view, for the first time there is not a single
Cuban-American voice in Miami, much less a Latin voice. Reflecting
the change here are the ever-increasing media spaces that not only
are free from the conservative monopoly but denounce what they call
"the ultraright" that has controlled this city for decades.
One such example is Cuban-American journalist Edmundo García,
whose nightly radio program has huge ratings.
All
this has awakened expectations among those who dissented from the
political, economic, media and cultural control of the conservative
anti-Castro sector. "It is not a revolution but a gradual
change," says Max Lesnik, a veteran journalist and dissident,
both in Cuba and Miami. As in a card game, "it’s a new hand."
Dissidents
in Miami insist that a transition in Miami is an unstoppable reality.
A good many of them express their hope that this reality will be
reflected in the November elections. After almost 50 years of a
single regime in Miami, the impatience is clear.
David
Brooks is U.S. correspondent of the Mexican newspaper La Jornada.
