Can Cuba Absolve its Past for its Future?
Musings after a week in Havana
Beyond the array of colorful, classic American and Soviet-era cars, I first noticed the city’s architecture in Havana. From the unique blend of weathered yet vibrant art nouveau and deco buildings to the majestic baroque cathedrals and the imposing stone colonial military fortresses, you feel like you’ve stepped into a time capsule.
This feeling is only accentuated on almost every street corner with towering stone and marble monuments to revered historical heroes like Maxwell Gomez and José Martí while the plethora of revolutionary images of Ernesto “Che” Guevera, Fidel Castro, and Camilo Cienfuegos plaster buildings, an inescapable daily reminder of the audacious Cuban Revolution.
In November 1956, a group of 80-odd men, armed with little more than determination and a few guns, sailed across the ocean from Mexico to Cuba. After having to ditch most of their weapons and gear after running their boat aground, becoming separated in the mountains, and most of the 80 or so men being killed or captured by Fulgencio Batista’s soldiers (only 20 survived), it looked like the revolution had failed before it even started.
Yet, over the next two years, from their base in the Sierra Maestra mountain range, the rebels, using guerilla-style tactics and the help of local peasants, fought and defeated a force six times greater than them. The apex of this struggle would be the defeat of Batista’s troops at The Battle of Santa Clara in December of 1958, where Castro and his men succeeded in overthrowing an American-backed dictator and taking control of the entire island.
However, since the Cuban Revolution of 1959, the country has been plagued by economic policy failures (nationalization, agrarian reforms, moral vs. material incentives regarding labor, the list goes on), leading to its dependence on international aid and subsequent impoverishment. Sixty-five years later, the revolution’s impact is still being felt, underscoring the ongoing relevance of this historical event. Although some of the revolution’s initial perks, like above-average literacy rates, free education and healthcare to Cubans, and the addition of electricity in rural areas, provided an ostensibly better quality of life for Cubans, the corruption, tyranny, and economic mismanagement that came with Castro’s government plagued the country. To this day, the Castro regime has significantly affected the Cuban people and their standard of living, leaving them disillusioned and disappointed.
A Rich History, a Poor Present
Walking around Havana and conversing with locals about their government and history, it became evident that many Cubans were navigating the complexities of their past.
They are finding ways to honor their ethos of resisting imperialism and revering their heroes and martyrs (Martí, Gomez) while acknowledging the need for change in their views towards others (Castro, Guevara), including their current government. In fact, in parts of the country, such as Santiago in the east, protests against the state have erupted due to issues like rolling electrical blackouts and food and fuel rations shortages.
When I asked Cubans about their daily struggles, many expressed a single, urgent goal: to leave Cuba. This desire to escape has been a long-standing trend but has escalated dramatically in recent years. The number of Cubans attempting to flee to the U.S. across the Straits of Florida has surged, with hundreds of thousands fleeing in the last few years. This mass exodus is not just a stark indicator of the severity of the challenges faced by the Cuban people but also a cause for concern about the future of Cuban society.
One day, we went to a traditional market or store in Havana where Cubans buy food, and the only thing in abundance was locally grown fruit and vegetables. On one side of the store, there were two huge counters empty. I asked our guide what usually goes there, and she said meat. They hadn’t had fresh meat in more than a week. That same tour guide told us someone she knew waited three days in line to get fuel for their vehicle. Other essential medicines and necessities are hard to come by. Most corner stores I visited were barren except for beer, water, Cuban sodas, and tobacco.
A lot of non-Cubans like to blame the U.S. embargo for Cuba’s economic hardships. However, the U.S. embargo, while significant, is not the sole cause of Cuba’s financial difficulties. It’s important to note that the U.S. is the only major global country with an embargo on the island; the Cuban government is, ostensibly, free to receive tourists and trade with other nations. Talking to locals in Havana, I never once heard someone blame the U.S. for their difficulties (I’m not saying the embargo hasn’t played a significant role in Cuba’s economic woes, because it clearly has, just that it, surprisingly, was not the point of contention most Cubans pointed to when talking about their struggles).
Instead, most told me this was the government’s problem and its corrupt rationing system that is pushing its population into the abyss of poverty.
Despite Cuba’s gradual steps towards opening up to foreign businesses and investments and apparent efforts to curb state corruption, the situation for the average Cuban remains largely unchanged. Their daily struggle revolves around survival and securing the necessities for each day. As long as the current Cuban regime, under the leadership of President Miguel Díaz-Canel, who is the first non-Castro-related leader since the 1959 revolution but still a strong remnant of the Castro regime, maintains its authoritarian control over the country, structural reform or change seems unlikely.
Amidst the daily challenges, the Cuban people stand out with remarkable resilience. They take immense pride in their rich cuisine, diverse culture, and anti-imperialist history, a theme that becomes more pronounced during a visit to Havana. On a car tour of the city, we passed the American embassy along the Malecon. Directly across from the embassy is the José Martí Anti-Imperialist Platform, where a colossal statue of revolutionary José Martí boldly faces the embassy, shielding a child in his other arm.
Another intriguing aspect I noticed was the conflicting legacies of revolutionary figures in Cuban history. When Cubans speak of their independence from the Spanish, a deep sense of pride fills them. However, when the conversation shifts to Castro or Che, a reserved tone takes over, a mix of regret and despair, a testament to their complex relationship with their past. This complexity is deeply rooted in the conflicting legacies of these figures, who are traditionally revered for their roles in the revolution.
But with this rich past comes a price to pay. Many Cubans seem to be starting to blame the roots of the revolution and its founders as the reasons behind Cuba’s economic stagnation and tailspin, the regular corruption (which we experienced first-hand in a taxi ride from Havana to Varadero where a police officer attempted to extort our driver for his money, unsuccessfully), and the lack of meaningful work opportunities. There is a resignation amongst the Cuban people that as long as a government connected to the Castro regime remains in power, any change or sign of hope seems out of reach.
The Need for a New Revolution?
Before I visited Cuba, I had a cursory knowledge of its history: Castro, Columbus, Spanish colonization, the revolution, the explosion of the USS Maine, and other significant events. However, experiencing, hearing, and seeing the country’s rich history in person led me to a deep dive into its past and the interconnectedness of the revolution to where Cuba is today. Although my visit was relatively brief (10 days), the impression the Cuban people and its landscape made on me was indelible.
As I began to experience and read more about the Cuban Revolution, one central question or idea kept popping up in my mind: How can Cuba absolve its history yet condemn those responsible for how it’s gotten to where it is? Here in lies the paradox: without Che and Castro, Cuba may not have remained imperialism-free in the twentieth century, yet the country is teetering on a precipice of devastation because of these same people. This paradox, the complex interplay of history and its consequences, left me with a sense of unease and a deep desire to understand more.
For many Cubans, including many I met, it seems to be becoming more apparent that over the last 65 years, the visionary intent of the revolution never reached its full potential.
Cuba has, by and large, relied on foreign subsidies to survive, which has led to an economic disaster for its people. Therein, something entirely different needs to happen. Perhaps a new revolution not fuelled primarily by politics or ideology but by nationalism and economic growth and fairness is bubbling. Like the protests in Santiago, this will only succeed if the Cuban people are the central driving force.
At one point, our tour guide mentioned that one of Fidel Castro’s dying wishes was that no monuments be erected in his honor. Castro claimed he wanted to prevent himself from becoming a cult of personality, which would be counterintuitive to the revolution. I pondered this while walking around Havana; part of me wondered if, towards the end of his life, Castro knew that the revolution had failed in some ways.
In the grand scheme, Cubans were not much better off than they were under dictator Fulgencio Batista. I mean, Castro must have seen, before he died in 2016, the poverty and hardships the revolution exaggerated for the Cuban people. In the end, perhaps he didn’t want his statue plastered across the country, knowing the true intent of his revolution never really came to fruition.
A Sliver of Hope From a Hotel Bar
On one of our last nights in Havana, as we were having drinks at the hotel bar, one of the bartenders caught our attention. He was older, with a warm smile and a friendly demeanor. The hotel was tranquil, even quiet, starkly contrasting with the bustling atmosphere of the streets right outside the hotel. Intrigued, we struck up a conversation with him. His English was excellent, and he was chatty and forthcoming.
We got to the point where I felt comfortable asking him about his country, the government, and what he thought of Cuba’s future. I asked him what he thought of the government and its attitudes toward the Cuban people, and he said he’d lost hope long ago that anything would change for the better. He said most Cubans had resigned themselves to the fact that corruption would remain in Cuba as long as the remnants of the Castro regime remained in power. The government cared about retaining power for itself, period.
This was a recurring theme in my conversations: The revolution’s idealism and quixotic intent were fading increasingly in both old and new generations alike. When I asked if he was optimistic about the future, he admitted he was not, but then he laughed. I inquired about the reason for his laughter, and he explained that sometimes, laughter is the only response (maybe a medicine in this case). He then shared a sobering thought: the entire country is just one significant hurricane away from being plunged into absolute chaos, a situation akin to Haiti in 2010. It wasn’t if Cuba dissolved into chaos, but when.
As we paid our bill and finished our last mojito, I asked him what brought him joy. His face lit up as he spoke about his house and garden. He found solace in getting his hands coated in the soil while tending to his vegetables and plants. He spent hours in the hot sun before finally being forced to retreat to the shade under an umbrella and sit in his lawn chair with a cold beer, admiring his work, the fruits of his labor.
—
If you enjoyed reading this, please consider buying me a coffee:
If you liked my photos, please feel free to check out my Flickr account: https://flic.kr/ps/44nn2Z
