Cuba and its domestic dialectics

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By
Luis Sexto                                                                        Read Spanish Version

Is
Cuba moving or not? That’s the question posed by analysts and
friends, supporters and foes, both inside and outside the island. The
Cuban government might be the only one that cannot avoid the
questioning, the doubt that some of its acts generate. And it is
pelted with stink bombs whether it advances or appears to remain
motionless.

Everybody
knows that in Cuba there’s always "something happening."
Although some gaps of information diminish our revolutionary
enthusiasm or appear to grant legitimacy to the predictions of those
who don’t want the socialist republic to advance toward efficiency
and effectiveness, many of us are comforted by the knowledge that the
nation’s most trusted men acknowledge that the 50-year-old aspiration
of millions of people may be reaching the brink of hopelessness.

Sometimes
we forget the domestic dialectics, which in recent years recorded two
key moments: in November 2005, when Fidel warned that the Revolution
might implode because of internal errors and vices, and on July 26,
2007, when Raúl spelled out the need to make structural reforms in
Cuban society. Never before had the language of the Revolution
penetrated so deep into our needs and urgencies as it did in those
speeches, doubly historical because of their transcendence and
timeliness.

Without
minimizing the external causes of the problems and difficulties,
those speeches brought part of the solution over into the domestic
side, which might explain and justify why the Cuban society leaned
toward economic transformations that are not exclusively based on
"control and discipline."

I
don’t know if what I see or perceive is only a flaw in my alleged
political shrewdness. I understand that the three hurricanes that
devastated several towns and farmland dangerously loosened the soil
where the bases had to be rebuilt. In addition, there is in Cuba a
kind of "instability" derived from the same circumstances
of living (almost everyone of us) from the miracle of depreciated
wages, buying products in another currency that’s exclusive, rather
than inclusive. That crack in a society that’s still unsatisfied
demands caution before any structural renovation, in a planet that is
economically, ecologically and morally bankrupt.

As
I see it, Cuba today is a conjunction of doubt, resignation,
enthusiasm, and liberating vocation. From that mixture, one can
perceive that "something’s happening" inside, although
outside (particularly in Miami) some — from a viewpoint that
disqualifies and demonizes — evaluate it in the terms of the liberal
and neo-romantic rhetoric of Vargas Vila, who attributes any movement
to the alleged struggle between caudillos and groups. This is what
has happened after the last recomposition of the government, an act
constitutionally scheduled for the beginning of each legislative
session and whose postponement was announced on Feb. 24, 2008.

It
seems, then, that the Cuban government is the only government in the
world that must publicly explain the reasons for its administrative
adjustments. But, let’s look at this contradiction: if the men remain
a long time in their posts, there is criticism about the leaders
staying in power "for an eternity," about motionlessness,
impunity and other similar arguments. If the government decides to
remove some officials and appoint others, using an aseptic and
delicate language — the men are "liberated" or "promoted"
— the scandal sends the Web’s newspapers and windows rattling.

How
is this possible? What explanation will the Cubans give?

I
would have liked to learn about the specific causes for Lage’s or
Pérez Roque’s "liberation," as well as the "liberation"
of the other ministers about whom no one shows any interest. Because
I live in Cuba and know it without the distortions typical of Miami
or Madrid, I don’t believe that the change in ministers or officials
has been determined by a flap between Raulists and Fidelists. As soon
as I hear that some officials have been replaced by their deputies, I
realize that "the struggle between groups" is
inconceivable. Wasn’t Bruno Rodríguez’s relationship with the
previous Chief of State and Government the same as — or similar to
— Pérez Roque’s?

Now
then, the references in a recent Fidel reflection to both
high-ranking functionaries were intended to clarify the real reasons
for the substitution, which the government’s official announcement
did not reveal. Apparently, the Leader of the Revolution mentioned
those reasons so as to keep people from fantasizing, to restrain
speculation from the media, where some analysts earn their living by
trying to pin the tail on the donkey while blindfolded.

Maybe
us Cubans inside and outside, along with the alleged foreign experts,
need to get used to seeing leaders and cadres come and go as they do
in any other country, without walking them between two lines of
whips, unless they have committed such harm that they deserve a trial
or a denunciation broadcast over loudspeakers.

I
do not doubt that the ministerial change and the reminder of the
constitutional role of the secretaries of the executive committee of
the Councils of Ministers and State show that the state organization
is moving toward a shape that is less voluminous, better adjusted to
the circumstances in Cuba, and thus more efficient. Of course, that
has been expressed by the authorities. But this commentator, who has
written so much against the bureaucratic procedures, believes that
government readjustment can be part of a strategy to
"debureaucratize" Cuban society.

For
the time being, any other assumption will have to wait for
confirmation until the next Communist Party Congress, tentatively set
for this year’s en. Although many refuse to believe it, any decision,
any program that implies changes in the socio-economic structure, has
to be approved by the congress of the party in power.

Within
logical doubts in a convulsed era, in Cuba there is a certainty that
the Revolution and the aspirations of justice, equity and authentic
freedom of millions of Cubans have not failed; they’ve only been
delayed. And they would be lost for sure if the helmets of the new
barbarians of Attila (as described by Rubén Darío) cross the
Straits of Florida. A supreme difference separates us: we’re
interested above all in independence and social justice. To them,
these national values are as important as the extinction of the
gazelle is to the lion.

Luis
Sexto, a Cuban journalist who won the 2009 José Martí national
journalism award, writes a column every Friday in the newspaper
Juventud Rebelde. He now contributes regularly to Progreso
Semanal/Weekly.