Other voices, other attitudes were raised



Cuban
emigration: Glances (Part IV)

Other
voices, other attitudes were raised

By
Jorge Gómez Barata                                                        
Read Spanish Version  

The
collapse of the socialist camp and the disappearance of the Soviet
Union were the greatest defeats ever of the revolutionary and
progressive movement. The setback had a devastating effect on the
correlation of forces worldwide, gave way to unipolarity, and left
the United States as the world’s only superpower.

With
the force of a political tsunami, the crisis of the real socialism
spread to the forces of the Left in all countries. The European
communist parties staged a retreat; some reneged their creed and
others evolved toward social-democratic positions. Bereft of Soviet
support, the major international labor, youth, women’s groups and
others disappeared or transformed into minuscule entities with little
or no relevance.

The
immediate political significance aside, to academicians,
politologists and social scientists the worst was the discredit into
which the revolutionary doctrine and alternative thinking plunged.
Marxism, which was attacked implacably for 150 years, seemed
sentenced to oblivion.

Cuba,
the smallest and economically the most vulnerable of the socialist
countries, a country that (90 miles from the United States) endured a
total blockade and the perennial threat of military aggression, was
brutally impacted by the crisis, which deprived it of political
alliances, commercial ties, credit, energy supplies, food, raw
materials, consumer goods, scientific ties, and clients for its
exports.

The
situation turned desperate, because the United States
opportunistically tightened its blockade, which the new leaders of
its former allies cynically and openly joined. Sheltered by the
administrations of Ronald Reagan and Bush, the counter-revolution in
Miami enjoyed unprecedented power and lived a time of euphoria.

Jorge
Mas Canosa, chairman of the Cuban American National Foundation, was
welcomed by the White House and by the leaders of the former
socialist countries, even by some Latin American government palaces.
Some fools called him "the president," not referring to the
Foundation but to Cuba, which they were divvying up even before
conquering it.

On
the island, Fidel Castro, who had reflected publicly about the
possible disappearance of the Soviet Union before it happened, called
on Cubans to close ranks, appealed to their conscience and
patriotism, posited resistance as an option, and urged Cubans "to
save the achievements of the Revolution and socialism" as a
minimum program that included certain reforms in the design of the
State, the electoral law, the admission of foreign capital, etc.

Due
to an unexpected turn explained only by the strength of the national
ties and the feeling of belonging to a Nation that is not a political
entity, in the early 1990s, when the enemies of the Revolution were
betting on an imminent defeat, a pretentious political illiterate
made money with a book titled
"Castro’s
Final Hour,"
and
zealots in Miami asked for a three-day license to kill, in the
enclave ruled by the counter-revolution, other voices were raised and
other attitudes emerged.

Taking
a course parallel to that followed for years by people who advocated
dialogue, travel and the normalization of family contacts, rose
émigrés who — in Miami’s press, radio and social milieu — were
noted by their honest and objective focus on the Cuban reality. Some,
with enough boldness and imagination, proposed to Cuba new contacts,
this time of a political nature, associated with the current debates,
even proposing options for cooperation.

Thus
came the idea of staging in Cuba the Seminars on Participative
Democracy, with émigrés participating as speakers. What was strange
was not the extravagance of the idea but the fact it was entertained.
That way, beginning in 1992, groups of émigrés traveled to Cuba to
more than 40 of those events, in which Cubans living in the U.S. and
revolutionary militants reflected on democracy, participation and all
the other current topics, including the socialist debacle.

The
participants in those activities tell of intense and deep
reflections, in-depth ideological confrontations and circumstantial
debates. But there was no incident, no arrogant gesture and no
evidence that the émigrés were pursuing selfish ends or were
opportunists.

Without
depending one on the other and without prior agreement, the original
intent and the Cuban opening gave way to a movement of approximation
by the émigrés to the homeland. At that time appeared organizations
and projects such as the Association of Community Workers, the
Organization of Cuban-American Professionals and Businessmen, the
Cuban Cultural Rescue, the Organization of Jewish Solidarity, and
others that — along with the Antonio Maceo Brigade, the magazines
Réplica and Contrapunto, and Radio Progreso Alternative — formed a
current that was respected by the counter-revolution and the city’s
authorities. They even had contacts at a federal level.

As
a whole, what happened since 1978, the date of the dialogues, and the
powerful and intense movement of the 1990s prepared the way for the
Conference on the Nation and Emigration. To this day, that parley has
been the most important point of reference for the efforts to
normalize relations between the émigrés and the homeland and make
them fruitful, multiple and concrete.