From America's Thorn
It has been a thorn in America's side for almost half a century: an island nation that nearly plunged us into nuclear war with the Soviet Union; a country that brought military humiliation to the United States at a place called the Bay of Pigs; a dictatorial ruler who has led a chorus of Latin American leftists screaming, "Yankee, go home!"Now Cuba is on the precipice of a new era as 80-year-old Fidel Castro exits the stage. Ever since Castro's hospitalization last July and the "temporary" transfer of power to his younger brother Raúl, Cuba watchers have been weighing some big questions: Can the authoritarian regime survive the loss of its charismatic founder? And if it collapses, what will happen to Cuba -- and what will it mean for America?
"Things must change, I know it. They can't go on as they are." José, a middle-aged taxi driver, sits listlessly at a bar in central Havana last December expressing the frustrations of many Cubans. As jobs go, José's is a good one, secured by his many years in the armed forces. But he complains that more than 95 percent of his earnings go to the government, and he chafes under the purchasing restrictions that forbid ordinary Cubans from entering the plush beach resorts and hotel restaurants that cater to foreigners.
"I make money, so why isn't my money any good?" José says. "Why can't I buy my car? And the hotels ... why can't I take my wife to dinner there?" He pauses, then adds, "I have sacrificed a lot for my country, for my government. No, my friend, there will be changes." José is not alone in saying so. Ask a Cuban how life goes, and quite often the answer will be, "Malo, malo, malo" ("Bad, bad, bad").
Castro's Cuba
This is not the future that most Cubans expected when Castro and his band of guerrillas deposed the corrupt, crony regime of Fulgencio Batista y Zaldívar in 1959. Castro had promised to restore the constitution and hold elections, but neither happened. Instead, Cuba became an autocracy of secret prisons, whimsical laws and few freedoms. It also became dependent on subsidies from friendly nations -- to the tune of $6 billion a year from the Soviet Union (until the Berlin Wall collapsed) and 100,000 barrels of oil a day now coming from the leftist regime in Venezuela.Nevertheless, there were successes under Castro. Cuba's literacy rate approaches 97 percent, and health care is free and universal. At the height of the Cold War, Cuban soldiers fought ably on Communist front lines from Latin America to Africa to Asia. Such accomplishments still persuade some to believe in Castro's Cuba. "I have free health care, my children go to a good school," says a mechanic as he retreads a tire outside a bus terminal. "Where else in Latin America -- where in America or the rest of the world -- would I have this?"
But even Castro's proudest achievements are steadily crumbling. Cubans say that sick wards inside the once-famed hospitals are nothing more than rooms lined with dirty mattresses. The country's birthrate is in the bottom quartile of the world, only slightly better than Aruba, the region's worst. And the suicide rate is among the highest of any country. The overall impression is that Cuban society is anemic, aging and unhappy.
A poll conducted in 2005 by the group Spanish Solidarity with Cuba found that 80 percent of Cubans believe changes are necessary. When asked their preference for democracy or dictatorship, only 20 percent chose the latter. A similar poll last September by Gallup, though limited to Havana and Santiago, found that just 26 percent of the residents said they were "satisfied with the freedom they have to choose what to do with their lives."
Sit down with Cubans and many will cite very specific grievances, such as anger with the food-rationing system. Over dinner in the home of one Cuban family, the mother pulls out a pocket-size stamp book and thumbs through it, pointing out the missing stamps for food. "I'm supposed to get tomatoes and other things, but they don't exist," she says. To her, the food rationing is "a joke."
Her 17-year-old daughter is applying for university but worries she won't be selected for one of the coveted spots. Although an excellent student, she didn't always participate in the orchestrated street marches for Castro. While some students truly believe in the Cuban experiment, the daughter says, many more just play the game, waiting for the moment when they can leave.
Individual Survival
Despite this disgruntlement, a popular uprising doesn't seem imminent. One of the clearest signs came last July when Raúl took over for his ailing brother. Of the handful of prominent dissidents in Cuba, only one, Dr. Darsi Ferrer, called for open civil disobedience during the transition. No one heeded his call. "That was the perfect opportunity for the dissidents to act," says a Western diplomat posted in Havana. "Only one did. It's pretty clear to me it won't be an immediate popular uprising."In an important sense, after so many decades of Castro's rule, the Cuban people's collective will has given way to individual survival. Why stick your neck out only to get it chopped off? Still, there are hopeful signs of opposition. According to El Directorio Democrtico Cubano, a prominent exile group in Miami, there were more than 3,300 acts of defiance against the regime in 2005. Most were vigils and small get-togethers, but there were also public protests and mass petitions demanding change. Interestingly, an increasing number of these acts take place in the provinces far from Havana, suggesting not only that the regime's grip is slipping but also that ideas are spreading.
With the transition from Fidel to Raúl all but solidified, the regime will next need to manage the transfer of power to another, younger leader. If anyone is seen as having the upper hand, it's Carlos Lage Davila, the man behind the economic reforms of the mid-1990s, which Raúl supported but Fidel later all but rescinded. In his mid-50s, Lage is the youngest of the main contenders for power and is probably closest to Raúl. He also has strong ties to Venezuela's president, Hugo Chvez, a strident foe of the United States whom some regard as Castro's truest successor in the region. But his ascension is far from settled. "The best analogy is that there are a bunch of hyenas around Fidel," says Thor Halvorssen, president of the Human Rights Foundation in New York, "and they're going to have a go at each other. And who's going to win, nobody knows."
If Cuba remains socialist, its chief allies will be other leftist regimes in the region: Bolivia, Nicaragua, Brazil, Ecuador and, of course, Venezuela. Other countries likely to enhance their ties with Cuba are Iran, China and Russia -- alliances that could further elevate tensions between these powerful countries and the United States.
Look longer term, however, and all bets are off. According to Caleb McCarry, the State Department's point man on Cuba, ever since Castro's illness last summer, "change, and the expectation of change, is greater than it has ever been in Cuba."
That change could have enormous implications for Americans. Restrictions on trade and travel to Cuba would likely be lifted, with American businesses pouring back into the island nation that's only 90 miles from the Florida coast. It might also mean something that worries our government: a sudden flood of Cuban migrs to our shores, with attendant political and social strains.
The Danger
Most important, the regime's demise would deal a severe blow to the hemisphere's resurgent leftist movement. "If the regime falls, all sorts of truths are going to come to light," says Ian Vsquez, a Latin America specialist with the libertarian Cato Institute. "And they're going to be ugly truths. We're going to learn what life's really like for ordinary Cubans, and that should help to demystify the Cuban experiment."For one Cuban, General José Quevedo Pérez, that realization already came. Now 81 and living in Miami, Quevedo is perhaps the only Cuban to point a gun at Castro and live to tell.
For ten days during the Summer Offensive of 1958, a major effort by the Batista regime to repel Castro's rebels, Quevedo watched in frustration as his weary and half-starved government troops withered under guerrilla attacks. Eventually, they had to surrender. Quevedo assembled what remained of his troops and steeled himself for his meeting with the young rebel leader. "I was sure they were going to execute me," he says.
Instead, Castro greeted Quevedo with an embrace, turned over Quevedo's men to the Red Cross, and allowed the general to keep his sidearm and roam freely about the camp. When the Batista regime denounced Quevedo for surrendering, Castro broadcast messages saying the officer had fought bravely. "So not only does he spare my life, he also rescues my dignity," Quevedo says with gravity.
For the next five months, until Batista fled the country on New Year's Day 1959, Quevedo remained with Castro, gradually coming under his sway. "When Fidel speaks to you, it is very hard for him not to convince you," Quevedo says. "I was very convinced that Fidel was going to save the Republic."
Over the following four decades, Quevedo rose in importance. He oversaw the founding of the regime's military academies and was later dispatched as the regime's military attaché to Moscow. In 1996, his long-overdue promotion to general came through, and two years later he joined the reserves.
By then, however, his loyalty to Castro was wavering. "Independent of my personal debt to Fidel, there were many things I didn't like," he now says. "Things kept on happening, and I couldn't stand it. [But] like a good officer, I stuck my head in the sand." While visiting his dying son in Miami, the general defected, becoming the highest-ranking Cuban army official to do so.
Quevedo claims he's learned a great many things about the regime he served. "Some people say I betrayed Fidel. But I feel like I am the one who was betrayed." Like General Quevedo, Cuba itself has long been sustained by Castro's charisma. But with his passing, it will become clear that the greatest threat to his revolution isn't the U.S. government but the impoverished masses themselves. As one dissident inside Cuba, who asked not to be identified, said, "You are not the danger. We are the danger."