Proponents of the regime claim that Fidel Castro’s revolution won Cuba freedom, a word choice that is bewildering to hear considering the individual liberties repressed by the totalitarian government. Predictably, a Havana bookstore we visited lacked works containing ideas incompatible with communism. Next to Trotsky and Marx, there was a title that argued there was in fact democracy in Cuba because the island has a “democratic economy,” contrasting it to the economy of the U.S.
My impression of the island was that it has less of a communist ideology and more of a belief in the revolution and a cult of personality of its leaders. This brand of nationalism is reinforced in every facet of Cuban life. Government-sponsored “graffiti” art stands ominous guard on the walls of dilapidated barrios. As you drive through the country you will see government propaganda on billboards and on the sides of buildings instead of corporate logos and advertisements. The daily newspaper, state TV and schools reinforce this uniform ideological message. I was startled to hear the high-pitched voice of a 6-year-old reciting different militant chants about defending the revolution and aspiring to be like Marxist guerilla fighter Che Guevara.
Alternative opinions are oppressed in the single-party state, and many Cubans who were most dissatisfied with the politics of the regime fled the country long ago, learned to stay quiet or encountered worse fates. I only talked with one local who disclosed actual opposition to the regime, although I commonly heard complaints against inadequate or inefficient conditions. Dumbfounded by the inflexibility of a government worker, I heard another islander bemoan “This is what is wrong with Cuba.” When the government shut off power in a whole residential section of town to conserve energy, a local smirked, turned to me and quipped, “Welcome to the real Cuba.”
Yet, it seemed to me the general population was not ideological at all, but a practical people busily going about their lives, making the absolute most out of their situation. Cuban resourcefulness is demonstrated not just in the ability to keep old cars running, but in how well islanders have taken to Raúl Castro’s liberal economic reforms, which have permitted an increase in privately-owned businesses. This knack for entrepreneurship should be no surprise given the elaborate black market locals created long ago to help meet their needs.
However, neither the black market, the small opening of enterprise nor increased American travel is enough to wash away the near post-apocalyptic conditions plaguing Cuba. The time has come for a shift in policy between our nations to reflect what Cuban poet José Martí once called “the white rose,” which he would offer up to both a true friend and those who had wronged him. The last 56 years should tell us that isolating ourselves and our values from Cuba will not end the dictatorship. Rather, continuing the embargo only hurts the Cuban people and gives the hardliners of the regime a scapegoat for all of the problems on the island. Perhaps, in extending our hand to Cuba, the ties forged between our two peoples could prove to be an important step on the path to a free Cuba.
Above all, my travels confirmed to me just how much Cuba and the U.S. have to offer each other. With all the troubles Cuba faces, it retains a beauty and character unlike anywhere else on Earth. Yet, its greatest resource is its people, resilient and teeming with untapped potential.
As we enter uncertain diplomatic times, I can only hope that this newfound chance for progress does not flutter away in the Caribbean breeze.
Ford Dwyer is a third-year student at the Levin College of Law. This is part three of a three-part series.