Antolín and the changes

By Elsa Claro

Bad habits are like contagious diseases. They move fast and can even kill. The comparison comes from Antolin, a descendant of veterans of the War of Independence, commenting skeptically about the call published in the newspaper Granma urging Cubans to participate in discussions on the proposed changes, “disagreeing if you wish,” and because “nobody should be left without an opinion to express, much less be prevented from expressing it.”

“The party demands the maximum transparency from all its organizations,” says the editorial.

My old friend does not believe that many people are willing to put aside questionable habits, encouraged by the state itself with poor upbringing or with an excess of prohibitions. They function as unwritten laws with wide compliance, leading some to consider it a right to receive benefits of all kinds, plus a fixed salary, without the need for great effort or using the job to steal goods that can be used for personal gain.

His pessimistic view has a lot of realism, although there are other perspectives and the so-called entrepreneurship looks promising. From October to date, some 81,000 Cubans applied for licenses to open small businesses or rent their homes.

In just one month 30,000 received licenses. Twenty percent of them will engage in the preparation and sale of food, 12 percent are contract workers for various jobs, others are involved in the transportation of passengers or the leasing of housing. But nothing is linear.

Luis Sandoval prepared to open a coffee shop in the doorway of his home. To get the permit, he was visited by a hygiene specialist who told him he should have a marble counter and a sink in sight. He bought the materials and, working with a plumber and a mason, he did the job. It was pretty and practical.

As he prepared to open for business, an inspector shows up and says Sandoval has to tear everything down. Sandoval argues. How can one official tell you one thing and another the opposite? He has filed a complaint and is waiting for results.

M. Trujillo once ran a paladar [home restaurant] in partnership with a brother-in-law. They started with a food stand and, as their business improved, they improved the facility. A dispute caused them to split and he started a chain of itinerant peddlers, but only the disabled are allowed to engage in such sales.

It was not legal and “the inspectors kept demanding bribes to look the other way. I think the same could happen now, because I took all the legal steps to install a coffee shop right here in my home. I have almost everything, dishes and all, but it turns out that I have to pay before I even open. No, I have not complained, but I’m thinking about it,” she answers when I ask.

“What I want to know is who will take care of the watermain leaks and the delivery of potable water,” says Ofelia García Núñez. “Who will make sure that the buses stop where they should, instead of making you run for them? There is so much in daily life that wears you out.”

García Núñez is suspicious and, although she says that in general she likes the proposals for economic renovation, she describes situations that are really irritating and leave the population helpless.

Y. T. is emphatic and absolute: “I do not agree with anything, because to open something there you must have the money. That’s not for poor people. Oh, how silly you are,” she tells me with a grin when I tell her that credit will be granted to her.

The Cuban state spends $130 million importing supplies for self-employed workers. But Y.T’s husband does automobile bodywork, one of the trades that – like polishing tiled floors – are not authorized for the moment because it is impossible to guarantee the required supplies.

“They could fine him or shut down the shop,” I say. And she replies: “Here, if you touch (bribe) someone, most problems are resolved.”

Mister X (not his real name) says: “In economics, everything has been invented. I see elements of half-disguised capitalism in many articles of the Guidelines and I’m not in agreement. If foreign capital increases, we’ll take on commitments and become dependent.”

When I remind him that joint ventures already exist, under conditions similar to those in the proposed policy, he snaps: “Yes, but they don’t let the Cubans abroad participate and that does not seem right. I’m also not clear about those Special Development Zones. Is that the Chinese style? I don’t think it will work here.

“And look, they’ve announced the closing of state enterprises that are not profitable. What do they plan to do with the assets, the technology, the material base, the people who work there? If it happens like the refrigerators they sold in working condition and then broke down … I don’t see how they can make a profit.”

The Guidelines chapter concerning foreign investment guidelines mentions gaining access to advanced technologies and adequate management methods, diversification and expansion of export markets. It is curious but not surprising that, both from the international and the Cuban left, criticism is raised and fear of dangerous situations is expressed.

Danger and errors may exist; we’re only human. Still, the most realistic of the people I’ve contacted tell me that Cuba must return to a situation similar to the one that existed until 1968, when the Revolutionary Offensive finished with small businesses and the state embarked on the micromanagement of businesses and the like.

Some pacts, such as the creation of a joint venture by Venezuela, Cuba and Angola to search for oil fields and extract oil and natural gas, indicate that the state retains ownership of the essential resources and does not rule out other associations within the framework of ALBA and maybe even outside.

But the core issue is this: we’re the ones who either push the donkey or beat it to death, says Antolin, conscientiously. For sure he’s right.