Dissidents in Cuba
We run various sites in defense of human rights and need support to pay for new servers. Thank you.
Calendar
November 2016
M T W T F S S
« Oct   Dec »
 123456
78910111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
282930  
Translate (from Es)
EnglishFrenchGermanItalianPortugueseRussianSpanish
Archives

Cuba Survives Fidel Castro

Cuba Survives Fidel Castro / 14ymedio, Yoani Sanchez

14ymedio, Yoani Sanchez, Havana 27 November 2016 – Few people were
watching official television at that hour. The news of Fidel Castro’s
death began to spread through the night on Friday by phone, as
information that was vague and imprecise. “Again?” my mother asked when
I called her. Born in 1957, this Havanan of nearly six decades does not
remember life before the Commander in Chief took power in Cuba.

Three generations, we Cubans have put the final period on an era this
Friday. Each person will define it in their own way. There are those who
claim that with the departure of the leader a piece of the nation has
also left and that now the island seems incomplete. They will be those
who will shape the creed of Fidelism that, as a replacement of imported
Marxism-Leninism, will fill the manuals, the slogans and the burning
commitments to continuity.

The propagandists of the myth will put his five-letter name in the
pantheon of national history. They will dedicate a revolutionary prayer
every time reality seems to belie “the teachings” he left in his hours
of interminable speeches. For his followers, everything bad that happens
from now on will be because he is no longer here.

In Miami, the exile so vilified in his harangues celebrates that the
dictator has embarked on his last journey. On the island, within the
privacy of many homes, some uncorked a bottle of rum. “I kept it so long
I thought I would never be able to taste it,” an early rising neighbor
told me. There are those who have woken up this Saturday with one less
weight on their shoulders, a sensation of lightness they are not yet
accustomed to.

These are also the days to remember those who didn’t make it this far.
Those who were killed during the Castro regime, shipwrecked at sea,
victims of the censorship that the Maximum Leader imposed, or who lost
their sanity as a consequence of the delusions he promoted. An immense
chorus of victims is expressed today in the sighs of the survivors, the
euphoria in the streets of Florida, or in a simple “Amen.”

Most, however, after learning the details of the great funeral, turn
down the TV and express their disgust with a simple shrug. This
indifference contrasts with the messages of condolence from
international leaders, both the ideologically aligned as well as the
others. On the wall of Havana’s Malecon, a couple of hours after Raul
Castro announced the death of his brother, some groups continued to
behave as on any other late night: sweat, sensuality, boredom and
nothingness surrounding them.

Cubans who were under 15 in July of 2006 when the then-president’s
illness was announced, barely remember the timbre of his voice. They
only know him from the photos in which he would appear lately when some
foreign guest visited, of through his increasingly absurd Reflections,
published in the national press. It is the generation that never
vibrated to his oratory and never seconded the dreaded cry of “Paredon!”
– To the Wall! – that he bellowed from the Plaza of the Revolution,
calling for the execution of his opponents.

These young people have now been charged with reducing his historical
dimension, in inverse proportion to the hubris he exhibited in governing
this nation. They won’t stop listening to a single lyric of their
preferred reggaeton songs to intone the slogan “Viva Fidel.” They will
not give birth to a wave of infants who will carry the name of the
deceased, nor will they beat their breasts and tear their clothes during
the funeral.

Fidel Castro in Rome in 1996
Never have we heard less about the Commander in Chief than at the moment
of his death. Never has oblivion fallen like a more threatening shadow
than when his end was announced. The man who filled every minute of Cuba
for more than 50 years receded, faded, was lost to spectators’ sight in
this extremely long film, like the character who walks off down a path
until he is barely a blip on our retina.

He leaves behind the great lesson of contemporary Cuban History: tying
the national destiny to the will of one man ends up passing on to a
country the imperfect traits of his personality and inflates one human
being with the arrogance of speaking for everyone. His olive green cap
and his Greek profile, for decades, have encouraged the nightmares of
some and the poetic residues of others, along with the populists
promises of many leaders on the planet.

His “anti-imperialism,” as he stubbornly called it, was his most
constant attitude, the only slogan that he managed to take to the
ultimate consequences. No wonder the United States was the second great
protagonist of the documentaries national television began to broadcast
as soon as the news was announced. Castro’s obsession with our neighbor
to the north ran through every moment of his political life.

The eternal question that so many foreign journalists asked, now has an
answer. “What will happen when Fidel Castro dies?” Today we know that he
will be cremated, his ashes will be carried across the island and placed
in the Santa Ifigenia Cemeterey, a few yards from the tomb of José
Martí. There will be tears and nostalgia, but his legacy will fade.

The Council of State has decreed nine days of national mourning, but the
official elegy will last for months, time enough to cover with so much
hullabaloo the flat reality of post-Fidelism. A system that the current
president is trying to keep afloat, adding patches of market economy and
calls for the foreign capital that his brother abominated.

A representation of the “good cop, bad cop” that both brothers unfurled
before our eyes, is now missing one of its parts. It will be difficult
for the defenders of Raul Castro’s regime to argue that the reforms are
not faster or deeper because, in a mansion at Point Zero on the
outskirts of Havana, a nonagenarian has applied the brakes.

Raul Castro has been orphaned. He knows no life without his brother, no
political action without asking what his brother will think about his
decisions. He has never taken a step without this gaze over his
shoulder, judging him, pushing him and underestimating him.

Fidel Castro has died. He is survived by a nation that has lived through
too much mourning to dress in the color of widowhood.

————————–

Editor ‘s note: This text was published on Sunday 27 November, 2016 in
the newspaper El País.

Source: Cuba Survives Fidel Castro / 14ymedio, Yoani Sanchez –
Translating Cuba –
translatingcuba.com/cuba-survives-fidel-castro-14ymedio-yoani-sanchez/

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *