El oscuro mundo de las mediciones inseguras y no confiables
LUNES, 02 DE JUNIO DE 2014 10:18
Cuba actualidad, Capdevila, La Habana, (PD) Resulta verdaderamente
vergonzoso que en las bodegas, supermercados, mercados agropecuarios,
puntos de ventas, carretilleros que ofertan productos del agro y en las
Tiendas de Recuperación de Divisas (TRD), sin el menor escrúpulo, cuando
pesan los productos, dan onzas de menos. De ahí salen sus ganancias: de
lo que le roban diariamente a los consumidores.
Esto es posible gracias al estancamiento del sistema metrológico cubano
debido al atraso en el sistema de pesaje presente en la red de mercado
minorista.
Las pesas artesanales, calibradas por los propios dependientes, les
permite realizar sus fechorías de dar onzas de menos para su propio
beneficio.
Afirma la periodista Ledys Camacho Casado en su artículo "Por mediciones
confiables, comparables y seguras", publicada el 21 de mayo por el
diario Juventud Rebelde, que en estos momentos el país no puede
presentar ningún saldo favorable relacionado con la metrología.
Entre los consumidores reina un ambiente de inseguridad y desconfianza
porque cuando compran un producto, salen convencidos de que no se llevan
las onzas que les dice el dependiente.
En Cuba, las mediciones adolecen desde hace años de muchos problemas que
el gobierno no acaba de solucionar ni poner coto a las fechorías que se
cometen en el pesaje.
Es escandaloso que se haya celebrado el "Día Mundial de la Metrología" y
se le haya rendido homenaje a "los metrólogos, protagonistas de los
éxitos en esa actividad".
Los consumidores se preguntan de qué éxitos hablan cuando son víctimas
del engaño y les roban descaradamente lo que le pertenece.
Es totalmente falso que el Servicio Nacional de Metrología (Senamet)
haya logrado aplicar un sistema nacional de control, verificación y
supervisión a las decenas de miles de pesas y sus diferentes modelos que
hay en Cuba en estos momentos.
La Oficina Nacional de Normalización en estos momentos no dispone de los
recursos financieros ni del equipamiento requerido para llevar esta
actividad a cada municipio y mucho menos sustituir las decenas de miles
de pesas por otras más modernas, digitales.
El consumidor cubano es el más desprotegido y esquilmado del hemisferio
occidental. Con los misérrimos 20 dólares que devenga de salario
mensual, en la TRD los productos que ofertan tienen una tasa de un 250%
con respecto a su precio original. A eso se suma la acción inescrupulosa
de los empleados que le ponen una multa a los ya desproporcionados
precios de esos productos.
En los mercados de venta de productos agropecuarios existe un sistema de
precios oligopólicos. Por eso, nadie rebaja nada, todas las tarimas
tienen el mismo precio, situación que beneficia al que vende y perjudica
al que compra. Las pesas están equilibradas a favor del dependiente, y
como existen relaciones mafiosas, todos se protegen para que no se
conozcan sus extorciones, robos y pillajes.
Los inescrupuloso bodegueros lo único que tienen en mente es cómo pueden
timar al abonado la mayor cantidad de libras. Protegidos por las
direcciones de Comercio, calibran las pesas a su favor.
Los consumidores están completamente desprotegidos ante la acción rapaz
de estos bandoleros.
La periodista de Juventud Rebelde afirmó que Senamet realizó el pasado
año 500 000 verificaciones y calibraciones a las pesas. Si eso hubiera
sido cierto y hubiese funcionado, la sección "Cuba dice" del noticiero
estelar de las 8 de la noche de la televisión cubana, no lo hubiese
puesto en entredicho, porque la población denunció los robos de que son
víctimas por parte de los empleados al momento de pesar los productos
que compran.
¿De qué disciplina tecnológica en la actividad metrológica habla la
periodista Camacho Casado? Ella sabe perfectamente que hoy la mayoría de
la población cubana está muy insatisfecha por la acción delincuencial de
los empleados de los establecimientos donde compran porque a causa del
estado deplorable en que se encuentran las pesas, no les dan las libras
que les corresponden.
Con los cientos de millones de dólares que recauda anualmente el
gobierno cubano con la tasa del 250% que le impone a los productos en
las TRD hace rato que podía haber resuelto el grave atraso tecnológico
de la actividad metrológica en Cuba. Si no hay pesas digitales en las
bodegas y mercados agropecuarios, no es precisamente un problema
atribuible al embargo norteamericano, como afirma la periodista.
Para Cuba actualidad: ramsetgandhi@yahoo.com
Source: El oscuro mundo de las mediciones inseguras y no confiables |
Cuba noticias actualidad.Periodismo independiente. -
http://www.primaveradigital.org/primavera/economia/51-economia/10750-el-oscuro-mundo-de-las-mediciones-inseguras-y-no-confiables.html
Monday, June 2, 2014
A EE.UU. rogando y con el mazo dando
A EE.UU. rogando y con el mazo dando
Prohiben ingresar en la Isla bultos ajenos. Imponen más censura
informática, a la vez que claman por flexibilizar el embargo
lunes, junio 2, 2014 | Miriam Celaya
LA HABANA, Cuba -La Aduana General de la República de Cuba acaba de
publicar en su página web (www.aduana.co.cu) un comunicado dirigido a
los viajeros que visitan Cuba. La nota advierte sobre los riesgos de
transportar "encomiendas" o "bultos ajenos" a destinatarios cubanos,
teniendo en cuenta los peligros que encierra portar objetos prohibidos o
susceptibles de constituir violaciones de la legalidad cubana, ya que el
desconocimiento de ello no exonera al portador de la responsabilidad por
las consecuencias y tendría que responder ante las autoridades jurídicas
de la Isla.
Según expresa el documento, "las personas naturales, en su condición de
pasajeros, no están autorizados a transportar consigo donaciones (…). Se
entiende por encomiendas las mercancías, bultos o paquetes, remitidos
desde el extranjero para terceras personas utilizando al pasajero para
que las transporte". Añade que "los pasajeros que viajen a la Isla deben
abstenerse de ingresar o extraer productos con fines de importación o
exportación, para lo cual, el Gobierno exigirá los permisos
correspondientes para este tipo de operaciones". Entre las "figuras
delictivas" en las que pudieran estar incurriendo quienes violasen este
reglamento se incluyen: contrabando, extracción ilegal del país de
bienes del patrimonio cultural, y cohecho.
El pretexto de la nueva prohibición es que dichas encomiendas "pueden
ser utilizadas para el traslado y enmascaramiento de sustancias y
artículos empleados en el terrorismo, operaciones de narcotráfico y
contrabando de mercancías, que pueden poner en riesgo la seguridad, la
salud humana y el medio ambiente".
A EE.UU. rogando y con el mazo dando
Resulta, cuando menos, contradictorio que se produzca otro
endurecimiento en los ya asfixiantes controles aduanales cubanos en un
momento en que se está desarrollando un intenso debate acerca de la
pertinencia o no de flexibilizar el embargo, a raíz de la carta que
dirigiera un grupo de empresarios, intelectuales y políticos
estadounidenses y cubano-americanos al Presidente Barack Obama, y a la
vez que una delegación de la Cámara de Comercio de ese país, de visita
en Cuba, ha sostenido conversaciones con el Ministro de Relaciones
Exteriores y el de Comercio Exterior e Inversión Extranjera.
Es, también, un botón de muestra de la "buena voluntad de cambios" de
este gobierno, que con esta nueva vuelta de tuerca asesta un golpe a la
comunidad de cubanos radicados en Estados Unidos que regularmente envían
bultos para ayudar a sus familiares y amigos en la Isla. Ya con
anterioridad, en julio de 2012, las autoridades habían elevado los
aranceles de importación y limitado las cantidades de las mercancías
autorizadas a los viajeros.
Tampoco se justifica que en un país cuya población está asfixiada por
las carencias materiales y en la que el propio Estado se ha visto
forzado a permitir la apertura de negocios privados, la mayoría de ellos
dedicados al comercio, se impongan restricciones aduanales que
recrudecen más aún las penurias familiares y estrangulan las escasas
posibilidades de prosperar al escuálido "sector empresarial" nativo.
La disposición constituye también un golpe contra las llamadas "mulas",
generalmente cubanos residentes en el extranjero que transportan
paquetes familiares hacia la Isla y con ello cubren sus gastos de viaje,
o residentes en Cuba –muchos de ellos han obtenido la ciudadanía de otro
país, por ejemplo, España– que se encargan de comprar en el exterior las
mercancías encargadas por los "cuentapropistas".
Es casi risible la declaración de que, a fin de "evitarles molestias y
contratiempos a su paso por nuestras fronteras", a los viajeros les será
entregado próximamente un plegable con toda la información. No se aclara
si será antes o después de haber sido confiscadas las "encomiendas" que
transportan o ser arrestados por violar las disposiciones.
¿Terrorismo o "terror del Estado"?
Asociadas a la nueva "bula" de los druidas verde olivo, la aduana
presenta algunas dramatizaciones de lo que podrían ser dichas
violaciones, entre las que destaca el ejemplo de una viajera que portaba
150 pen drives (memorias flash) en una lata de leche en polvo, cuando la
cantidad límite permisible por las regulaciones aduanales vigentes es de
cinco memorias flash por cada viajero.
Otro absurdo que demuestra el terror que despierta en las autoridades
cualquier adminículo vinculado con la propagación del uso de las
tecnologías relacionadas con la información y las comunicaciones. Algo
que sabe muy bien el contratista estadounidense Alan Gross, preso en las
cárceles cubanas por traer a Cuba equipos que facilitaban las conexiones
a Internet; una realidad que también conocemos perfectamente quienes nos
dedicamos al periodismo digital para difundir el pensamiento
independiente entre los cubanos.
No por casualidad se mantiene orquestada una cruzada del monopolio de
prensa oficial contra las redes Zunzuneo, Piramideo, Cubanet, el nuevo
medio digital 14ymedio.com, y contra todas las vías que abran la menor
brecha en el muro informático castrista. A todas ellas el gobierno las
declara "terroristas", una proyección de su propio terror a la fuerza de
la prensa libre y a las redes ciudadanas.
Esperemos ahora cómo justifican los defensores de la "flexibilización"
incondicional sus intenciones de negociar con un régimen inflexible.
Source: A EE.UU. rogando y con el mazo dando | Cubanet -
http://www.cubanet.org/destacados/a-ee-uu-rogando-y-con-el-mazo-dando/
Prohiben ingresar en la Isla bultos ajenos. Imponen más censura
informática, a la vez que claman por flexibilizar el embargo
lunes, junio 2, 2014 | Miriam Celaya
LA HABANA, Cuba -La Aduana General de la República de Cuba acaba de
publicar en su página web (www.aduana.co.cu) un comunicado dirigido a
los viajeros que visitan Cuba. La nota advierte sobre los riesgos de
transportar "encomiendas" o "bultos ajenos" a destinatarios cubanos,
teniendo en cuenta los peligros que encierra portar objetos prohibidos o
susceptibles de constituir violaciones de la legalidad cubana, ya que el
desconocimiento de ello no exonera al portador de la responsabilidad por
las consecuencias y tendría que responder ante las autoridades jurídicas
de la Isla.
Según expresa el documento, "las personas naturales, en su condición de
pasajeros, no están autorizados a transportar consigo donaciones (…). Se
entiende por encomiendas las mercancías, bultos o paquetes, remitidos
desde el extranjero para terceras personas utilizando al pasajero para
que las transporte". Añade que "los pasajeros que viajen a la Isla deben
abstenerse de ingresar o extraer productos con fines de importación o
exportación, para lo cual, el Gobierno exigirá los permisos
correspondientes para este tipo de operaciones". Entre las "figuras
delictivas" en las que pudieran estar incurriendo quienes violasen este
reglamento se incluyen: contrabando, extracción ilegal del país de
bienes del patrimonio cultural, y cohecho.
El pretexto de la nueva prohibición es que dichas encomiendas "pueden
ser utilizadas para el traslado y enmascaramiento de sustancias y
artículos empleados en el terrorismo, operaciones de narcotráfico y
contrabando de mercancías, que pueden poner en riesgo la seguridad, la
salud humana y el medio ambiente".
A EE.UU. rogando y con el mazo dando
Resulta, cuando menos, contradictorio que se produzca otro
endurecimiento en los ya asfixiantes controles aduanales cubanos en un
momento en que se está desarrollando un intenso debate acerca de la
pertinencia o no de flexibilizar el embargo, a raíz de la carta que
dirigiera un grupo de empresarios, intelectuales y políticos
estadounidenses y cubano-americanos al Presidente Barack Obama, y a la
vez que una delegación de la Cámara de Comercio de ese país, de visita
en Cuba, ha sostenido conversaciones con el Ministro de Relaciones
Exteriores y el de Comercio Exterior e Inversión Extranjera.
Es, también, un botón de muestra de la "buena voluntad de cambios" de
este gobierno, que con esta nueva vuelta de tuerca asesta un golpe a la
comunidad de cubanos radicados en Estados Unidos que regularmente envían
bultos para ayudar a sus familiares y amigos en la Isla. Ya con
anterioridad, en julio de 2012, las autoridades habían elevado los
aranceles de importación y limitado las cantidades de las mercancías
autorizadas a los viajeros.
Tampoco se justifica que en un país cuya población está asfixiada por
las carencias materiales y en la que el propio Estado se ha visto
forzado a permitir la apertura de negocios privados, la mayoría de ellos
dedicados al comercio, se impongan restricciones aduanales que
recrudecen más aún las penurias familiares y estrangulan las escasas
posibilidades de prosperar al escuálido "sector empresarial" nativo.
La disposición constituye también un golpe contra las llamadas "mulas",
generalmente cubanos residentes en el extranjero que transportan
paquetes familiares hacia la Isla y con ello cubren sus gastos de viaje,
o residentes en Cuba –muchos de ellos han obtenido la ciudadanía de otro
país, por ejemplo, España– que se encargan de comprar en el exterior las
mercancías encargadas por los "cuentapropistas".
Es casi risible la declaración de que, a fin de "evitarles molestias y
contratiempos a su paso por nuestras fronteras", a los viajeros les será
entregado próximamente un plegable con toda la información. No se aclara
si será antes o después de haber sido confiscadas las "encomiendas" que
transportan o ser arrestados por violar las disposiciones.
¿Terrorismo o "terror del Estado"?
Asociadas a la nueva "bula" de los druidas verde olivo, la aduana
presenta algunas dramatizaciones de lo que podrían ser dichas
violaciones, entre las que destaca el ejemplo de una viajera que portaba
150 pen drives (memorias flash) en una lata de leche en polvo, cuando la
cantidad límite permisible por las regulaciones aduanales vigentes es de
cinco memorias flash por cada viajero.
Otro absurdo que demuestra el terror que despierta en las autoridades
cualquier adminículo vinculado con la propagación del uso de las
tecnologías relacionadas con la información y las comunicaciones. Algo
que sabe muy bien el contratista estadounidense Alan Gross, preso en las
cárceles cubanas por traer a Cuba equipos que facilitaban las conexiones
a Internet; una realidad que también conocemos perfectamente quienes nos
dedicamos al periodismo digital para difundir el pensamiento
independiente entre los cubanos.
No por casualidad se mantiene orquestada una cruzada del monopolio de
prensa oficial contra las redes Zunzuneo, Piramideo, Cubanet, el nuevo
medio digital 14ymedio.com, y contra todas las vías que abran la menor
brecha en el muro informático castrista. A todas ellas el gobierno las
declara "terroristas", una proyección de su propio terror a la fuerza de
la prensa libre y a las redes ciudadanas.
Esperemos ahora cómo justifican los defensores de la "flexibilización"
incondicional sus intenciones de negociar con un régimen inflexible.
Source: A EE.UU. rogando y con el mazo dando | Cubanet -
http://www.cubanet.org/destacados/a-ee-uu-rogando-y-con-el-mazo-dando/
Osviel - sin riñones, ni Seguridad Social
Osviel: sin riñones, ni Seguridad Social
Inhabilitado para realizar cualquier trabajo, fue un empleado del Estado
desde el año 1996 hasta principio del 2012 que enfermó. Ahora le retiran
la pensión
lunes, junio 2, 2014 | León Padrón Azcuy
LA HABANA, Cuba - A pesar de la propaganda del gobierno de La Habana,
resaltando la magnanimidad del sistema socialista de Cuba, especialmente
en el campo de la educación, la seguridad social y la salud, hay miles
de testimonios que enuncian todo lo contario.
Tal es el caso del pinareño Osviel Hernández Álvarez, quien a pesar de
estar aquejado terriblemente de una insuficiencia renal crónica, la
institución del Trabajo del Municipio San Juan y Martínez le invalidó la
ayuda que hasta ahora le daban, de 175 pesos.
"Estoy ahora mismo sumergido en la más terrible desgracia de mi corta
vida", dijo, vía telefónica, este paciente de solo 36 años, quien centra
su esperanza de vida en la espera de un trasplante de riñón. Razón por
la que tiene que someterse a un tratamiento de hemodiálisis durante
cuatro horas, tres veces a la semana.
A la afectación del estado emocional que produce este proceso en los
pacientes, se unió la mala noticia por parte del director del órgano del
trabajo de ese municipio, sobre la suspensión de la seguridad social que
le estaban brindando. Según la fuente, el funcionario le notificó que
las órdenes venían de arriba, y que al parecer estaba relacionado con un
hijastro del paciente que ya tenía edad laboral y debía asumir esta
responsabilidad.
Hernández no podía creer lo que estaba oyendo. Dónde está aquel "Estado"
-se preguntaba- para el que había trabajado fielmente durante 18 años, y
al que sin titubear, en reiteradas ocasiones, le aportó miles de horas
extras en trabajos voluntarios, o dio su apoyo a cuanta actividad
política le convocaban.
Fue un duro golpe para este moreno sanjuanero. Ser testigo directo de la
mezquindad de unos funcionarios, al servicio del sistema comunista, que
ya no estaban dispuestos a pagarle la pensión que tanto necesita, ahora
que su vida peligra.
Téngase en cuenta que, para trasladarse desde San Juan hasta el
"Hospital Provincial Abel Santa María", de la capital pinareña, situado
a unos 23 km, es cosa seria.
Como no hay ambulancia en el Hospital sanjuanero -solo para casos muy
graves- y además el transporte público es casi inexistente, los enfermos
que necesitan tratamientos especializados se trasladan hacia la capital
provincial en una pequeña guagüita (microbús) que camina milagrosamente.
Otra opción sería pagar ida y vuelta entre 10 o 15 pesos por un auto de
alquiler (almendrón) para darse el tratamiento. Pero esto no está al
alcance de Osviel.
"Este trato no se corresponde con la propaganda de la prensa y la
televisión", dijo. "A mí me están poniendo un lazo en el cuello, no les
importa mi condición de enfermo, me echaron a la calle como si fuera un
perro, tampoco les concierne cómo voy a pagar las medicinas, los
alimentos, la luz, el agua, y mantener a mi hijo de 3 años", concluyó.
Gracias a su madre y a otros familiares, Hernández tuvo fuerzas para
desistir de la idea de no acudir más a los tratamientos de hemodiálisis
y dejarse morir, en protesta por la cruel decisión.
Así fue que resolvió decididamente acudir a la oposición democrática de
este territorio, la cual le facilitó el contacto con la prensa
independiente (Cubanet), a fin de que su denuncia se haga notoria ante
la opinión pública.
Oviel Hernández Álvarez, inhabilitado para realizar cualquier labor, fue
un empleado del Estado desde el año 1996 hasta principio del 2012 que
enfermó. Reside en el Municipio San Juan Y Martínez, de la occidental
Provincia de Pinar del Río.
Hoy sin riñones ni Seguridad Social lucha por un poco más de vida.
Leonpadron10@gmail.com
Source: Osviel: sin riñones, ni Seguridad Social | Cubanet -
http://www.cubanet.org/actualidad/actualidad-destacados/osviel-sin-rinones-ni-seguridad-social/
Inhabilitado para realizar cualquier trabajo, fue un empleado del Estado
desde el año 1996 hasta principio del 2012 que enfermó. Ahora le retiran
la pensión
lunes, junio 2, 2014 | León Padrón Azcuy
LA HABANA, Cuba - A pesar de la propaganda del gobierno de La Habana,
resaltando la magnanimidad del sistema socialista de Cuba, especialmente
en el campo de la educación, la seguridad social y la salud, hay miles
de testimonios que enuncian todo lo contario.
Tal es el caso del pinareño Osviel Hernández Álvarez, quien a pesar de
estar aquejado terriblemente de una insuficiencia renal crónica, la
institución del Trabajo del Municipio San Juan y Martínez le invalidó la
ayuda que hasta ahora le daban, de 175 pesos.
"Estoy ahora mismo sumergido en la más terrible desgracia de mi corta
vida", dijo, vía telefónica, este paciente de solo 36 años, quien centra
su esperanza de vida en la espera de un trasplante de riñón. Razón por
la que tiene que someterse a un tratamiento de hemodiálisis durante
cuatro horas, tres veces a la semana.
A la afectación del estado emocional que produce este proceso en los
pacientes, se unió la mala noticia por parte del director del órgano del
trabajo de ese municipio, sobre la suspensión de la seguridad social que
le estaban brindando. Según la fuente, el funcionario le notificó que
las órdenes venían de arriba, y que al parecer estaba relacionado con un
hijastro del paciente que ya tenía edad laboral y debía asumir esta
responsabilidad.
Hernández no podía creer lo que estaba oyendo. Dónde está aquel "Estado"
-se preguntaba- para el que había trabajado fielmente durante 18 años, y
al que sin titubear, en reiteradas ocasiones, le aportó miles de horas
extras en trabajos voluntarios, o dio su apoyo a cuanta actividad
política le convocaban.
Fue un duro golpe para este moreno sanjuanero. Ser testigo directo de la
mezquindad de unos funcionarios, al servicio del sistema comunista, que
ya no estaban dispuestos a pagarle la pensión que tanto necesita, ahora
que su vida peligra.
Téngase en cuenta que, para trasladarse desde San Juan hasta el
"Hospital Provincial Abel Santa María", de la capital pinareña, situado
a unos 23 km, es cosa seria.
Como no hay ambulancia en el Hospital sanjuanero -solo para casos muy
graves- y además el transporte público es casi inexistente, los enfermos
que necesitan tratamientos especializados se trasladan hacia la capital
provincial en una pequeña guagüita (microbús) que camina milagrosamente.
Otra opción sería pagar ida y vuelta entre 10 o 15 pesos por un auto de
alquiler (almendrón) para darse el tratamiento. Pero esto no está al
alcance de Osviel.
"Este trato no se corresponde con la propaganda de la prensa y la
televisión", dijo. "A mí me están poniendo un lazo en el cuello, no les
importa mi condición de enfermo, me echaron a la calle como si fuera un
perro, tampoco les concierne cómo voy a pagar las medicinas, los
alimentos, la luz, el agua, y mantener a mi hijo de 3 años", concluyó.
Gracias a su madre y a otros familiares, Hernández tuvo fuerzas para
desistir de la idea de no acudir más a los tratamientos de hemodiálisis
y dejarse morir, en protesta por la cruel decisión.
Así fue que resolvió decididamente acudir a la oposición democrática de
este territorio, la cual le facilitó el contacto con la prensa
independiente (Cubanet), a fin de que su denuncia se haga notoria ante
la opinión pública.
Oviel Hernández Álvarez, inhabilitado para realizar cualquier labor, fue
un empleado del Estado desde el año 1996 hasta principio del 2012 que
enfermó. Reside en el Municipio San Juan Y Martínez, de la occidental
Provincia de Pinar del Río.
Hoy sin riñones ni Seguridad Social lucha por un poco más de vida.
Leonpadron10@gmail.com
Source: Osviel: sin riñones, ni Seguridad Social | Cubanet -
http://www.cubanet.org/actualidad/actualidad-destacados/osviel-sin-rinones-ni-seguridad-social/
Ni la zafra de los diez ni la de un millón
Ni la zafra de los diez ni la de un millón
No van. Faltan cerca de 2 millones de toneladas de caña por moler y 234
mil toneladas de azúcar por fabricar
lunes, junio 2, 2014 | Ernesto García Díaz
LA HABANA, Cuba -La zafra azucarera cubana 2013/2014 está por concluir
en los próximos días. Así lo atestigua el reportero Juan Varela Pérez,
en su crónica "El azúcar y su tendencia a la mejoría", publicada en el
oficialista Granma este último 29 de mayo. El colega señaló: "…la nación
totalizaba el 87% del azúcar crudo contemplado en el plan y sigue en la
batalla para aproximarse el 90% mientras los costos lo justifiquen". Por
lo que queda claro que el 1.8 millones de toneladas de azúcar no va.
Los comunicadores del gobierno van cerrando la campaña informativa de la
contienda azucarera; quedaron bien, cumplieron su rol. Le informaron
poco al pueblo, le mantuvieron las esperanzas y ahora develan la
realidad. Hicieron lo que la jerarquía mayor les indicó. Para ello
utilizaron las informaciones de la oficina de Informática y Análisis del
Grupo AZCUBA y sus empresas azucareras. Así, el oficialista Granma pudo
publicar cerca de 29 trabajos periodísticos de carácter aislados y la
televisión cubana una decena de noticias. Y por su parte, la Oficina
Nacional de Estadista e Información, desde el 2012, mantiene suprimida
la serie estadística de la mayoría de los indicadores zafreros evitando
que los investigadores y periodistas independientes hagan sus propios
análisis.
A los burócratas azucareros tampoco le fue mal, las culpas no cayeron al
suelo, las lluvias se las llevó.
Pero mientras todo esto sucedía en el plano subjetivo de la información,
la cosecha de la sacarosa desde sus inicios dio sus traspiés. De las 48
fábricas programadas para la contienda, en enero de este año solamente
estaban en producción 32 centrales, de ellos, 13 arrancaron en fecha; 7
iniciaron con atrasos; 4 se adelantaron a la fecha prevista, y 8
centrales trabajaban con ineficiencias. Quedando a esa fecha 16 ingenios
pendientes por incorporarse a la producción industrial. ¿Qué les pasó?
No se comenta nada.
De ahí que fueron pocos los centrales (Siboney, Argeo Martínez, 14 de
Julio y 5 de Septiembre, América Libre, Primero de Enero, Uruguay, el
Panchito Gómez Toro), los cumplidores de la "Zafra Chica", época de
mayor rendimiento industrial. Como en el béisbol, la del gane.
Finalmente, al cierre del mes de mayo han conformado una información
parcial de la zafra, para señalar a las provincias de Ciego de Ávila,
Cienfuegos, Guantánamo, Sancti Spíritus y Santiago de Cuba, hasta ahora
como las cumplidoras del plan previsto. Sin embargo, no explicaron por
qué el resto de las provincias resultan tan poco diligentes.
El Grupo Azucarero (AZCUBA) fijó en un 15.74% el tiempo perdido por la
industria, lo que representa 28,90 días de molienda y un 12% por humedad
en los campos, equivalente a 22 perdidos, de los 184 de faena.
Los dirigentes de este sector no explican claramente por qué 24 de los
48 centrales en operaciones no han cumplido sus compromisos, aunque
dicen que 11 están por lograrlo pero no se sabe cuándo o si así será.
Por otra parte, mantienen la producción azucarera ante el vertiginoso
descenso del rendimiento industrial que no supera el 9%, cuando faltan
por moler cerca de 2 millones toneladas de caña y producir 234 mil
toneladas de azúcar. ¿No creen que haya razones suficientes para
concluir la campaña azucarera?
En resumen, al cierre del 28 de mayo, el plan de azúcar crudo acumula
1.566 millón de toneladas de azúcar. Superaron la pasada contienda de
1.4 millones y pueden discretamente llegar a los 1.62 millones, si el
tiempo lo permite. Pero el secretismo y la ineficiencia industrial de
esta zafra, le hizo mucho daño.
Otra cosa fue el capricho de la zafra de los 10 millones de toneladas
que Fidel Castro programó en la década de los 70, incumplida la meta,
por supuesto.
ernestogardiaz@gmail.com
Source: Ni la zafra de los diez ni la de un millón | Cubanet -
http://www.cubanet.org/opiniones/ni-la-zafra-de-los-diez-ni-la-de-un-millon/
No van. Faltan cerca de 2 millones de toneladas de caña por moler y 234
mil toneladas de azúcar por fabricar
lunes, junio 2, 2014 | Ernesto García Díaz
LA HABANA, Cuba -La zafra azucarera cubana 2013/2014 está por concluir
en los próximos días. Así lo atestigua el reportero Juan Varela Pérez,
en su crónica "El azúcar y su tendencia a la mejoría", publicada en el
oficialista Granma este último 29 de mayo. El colega señaló: "…la nación
totalizaba el 87% del azúcar crudo contemplado en el plan y sigue en la
batalla para aproximarse el 90% mientras los costos lo justifiquen". Por
lo que queda claro que el 1.8 millones de toneladas de azúcar no va.
Los comunicadores del gobierno van cerrando la campaña informativa de la
contienda azucarera; quedaron bien, cumplieron su rol. Le informaron
poco al pueblo, le mantuvieron las esperanzas y ahora develan la
realidad. Hicieron lo que la jerarquía mayor les indicó. Para ello
utilizaron las informaciones de la oficina de Informática y Análisis del
Grupo AZCUBA y sus empresas azucareras. Así, el oficialista Granma pudo
publicar cerca de 29 trabajos periodísticos de carácter aislados y la
televisión cubana una decena de noticias. Y por su parte, la Oficina
Nacional de Estadista e Información, desde el 2012, mantiene suprimida
la serie estadística de la mayoría de los indicadores zafreros evitando
que los investigadores y periodistas independientes hagan sus propios
análisis.
A los burócratas azucareros tampoco le fue mal, las culpas no cayeron al
suelo, las lluvias se las llevó.
Pero mientras todo esto sucedía en el plano subjetivo de la información,
la cosecha de la sacarosa desde sus inicios dio sus traspiés. De las 48
fábricas programadas para la contienda, en enero de este año solamente
estaban en producción 32 centrales, de ellos, 13 arrancaron en fecha; 7
iniciaron con atrasos; 4 se adelantaron a la fecha prevista, y 8
centrales trabajaban con ineficiencias. Quedando a esa fecha 16 ingenios
pendientes por incorporarse a la producción industrial. ¿Qué les pasó?
No se comenta nada.
De ahí que fueron pocos los centrales (Siboney, Argeo Martínez, 14 de
Julio y 5 de Septiembre, América Libre, Primero de Enero, Uruguay, el
Panchito Gómez Toro), los cumplidores de la "Zafra Chica", época de
mayor rendimiento industrial. Como en el béisbol, la del gane.
Finalmente, al cierre del mes de mayo han conformado una información
parcial de la zafra, para señalar a las provincias de Ciego de Ávila,
Cienfuegos, Guantánamo, Sancti Spíritus y Santiago de Cuba, hasta ahora
como las cumplidoras del plan previsto. Sin embargo, no explicaron por
qué el resto de las provincias resultan tan poco diligentes.
El Grupo Azucarero (AZCUBA) fijó en un 15.74% el tiempo perdido por la
industria, lo que representa 28,90 días de molienda y un 12% por humedad
en los campos, equivalente a 22 perdidos, de los 184 de faena.
Los dirigentes de este sector no explican claramente por qué 24 de los
48 centrales en operaciones no han cumplido sus compromisos, aunque
dicen que 11 están por lograrlo pero no se sabe cuándo o si así será.
Por otra parte, mantienen la producción azucarera ante el vertiginoso
descenso del rendimiento industrial que no supera el 9%, cuando faltan
por moler cerca de 2 millones toneladas de caña y producir 234 mil
toneladas de azúcar. ¿No creen que haya razones suficientes para
concluir la campaña azucarera?
En resumen, al cierre del 28 de mayo, el plan de azúcar crudo acumula
1.566 millón de toneladas de azúcar. Superaron la pasada contienda de
1.4 millones y pueden discretamente llegar a los 1.62 millones, si el
tiempo lo permite. Pero el secretismo y la ineficiencia industrial de
esta zafra, le hizo mucho daño.
Otra cosa fue el capricho de la zafra de los 10 millones de toneladas
que Fidel Castro programó en la década de los 70, incumplida la meta,
por supuesto.
ernestogardiaz@gmail.com
Source: Ni la zafra de los diez ni la de un millón | Cubanet -
http://www.cubanet.org/opiniones/ni-la-zafra-de-los-diez-ni-la-de-un-millon/
La prensa independiente - baluarte de nuestra futura democracia
La prensa independiente: baluarte de nuestra futura democracia
Jamás en nuestra breve pero fructífera historia republicana se desató
una ola de represión como la que se lanzó contra los periodistas
independientes en 2003
jueves, mayo 29, 2014 | Vicente P. Escobal
MIAMI, Florida -Al historiador corresponde la difícil labor de
desentrañar la verdad utilizando para ello, además de su propia
experiencia e interpretación de los hechos, toda la información recogida
a través de diferentes vías y medios. Es una tarea dificultosa y
complicada pues el más minúsculo desliz puede poner en evidencia la
imparcialidad e incluso la reputación del historiador.
Generalmente quien escribe la historia no es precisamente su
protagonista e incluso puede pertenecer al bando de los perdedores. No
siempre los ganadores tienen ese privilegio.
La historia de Cuba posee una característica esencial de acuerdo a los
"ajustes" e "interpretaciones" conferidos por la propaganda oficial.
Según esos "enfoques", el descubrimiento de Cuba se trató de un hecho
fortuito, un albur histórico. Jose Martí no fue el gran alentador de las
ideas democráticas e independentistas, sino el autor intelectual del
asalto al Moncada. El Partido Comunista siempre contó con el abrumador
respaldo de la sociedad cubana, cuando en realidad solo alcanzaba, si
acaso, el dos por ciento de aceptación en las contiendas electorales.
Cuba era un país habitado por analfabetos, prostitutas y enfermos. La
economía cubana estaba absolutamente dirigida por los grandes monopolios
estadounidenses y la política exterior de Cuba se diseñaba en
Washington. El embajador de Estados Unidos tenía más poder que el
presidente de la Republica.
De acuerdo con esas "interpretaciones" Cuba era un fantasma aleteando
sobre las aguas del mar Caribe, un espectro al que solo salvaría del
fuego eterno un predestinado, un visionario, un redentor llamado Fidel
Castro Ruz y su corte de ángeles y arcángeles.
La historia de Cuba comenzó a escribirse, entonces, el 1 de enero de
1959. Todo lo acontecido antes de esa fecha tenía un carácter
delincuencial e indigno. Nadie quedó a salvo de la guadaña castrista
pues el propósito consistía dejar a Cuba sin historia, y cuando un país
pierde su historia lo pierde todo.
¿Fue posible mantener durante mucho tiempo aquella tergiversación y
adulteración de la historia? Mucho antes del derrumbe del Muro de
Berlín, incluso antes de que el debilitamiento del bloque soviético se
hiciera más evidente, aparecieron en Cuba los retoños de un nuevo tipo
de historiadores, inspirados en los padres fundadores del periodismo
cubano, cuyas raíces se extienden más alla de los primeros intentos por
sustraer a Cuba de su condición colonial. Aquellos rebrotes florecieron
y recibieron el nombre de periodistas independientes.
¿Quiénes fueron los que instauraron, sin proponérselo, un nuevo enfoque
de la historia? Los periodistas independientes. ¿Quiénes sacaron a Cuba
del ostracismo y la manipulación? Los periodistas independientes.
¿Quiénes han contribuido a que las futuras generaciones tengan una
referencia crítica e imparcial de la tragedia que ha ensombrecido a la
nación cubana? Los periodistas independientes.
Muchos de esos periodistas independientes jamás habían redactado una
noticia y no poseían la formación profesional que los calificara para
ejercer el peligroso oficio. Solo contaban con la esperanza de sacar a
Cuba de la oscuridad. Otros conocían los entretejidos del periodismo
oficialista, cargado de consignas vacías y censura, incluso conservaban
diplomas, títulos, reconocimientos otorgados por los medios oficiales.
Habia de todo en aquel abigarrado escuadrón de partidarios de la verdad:
poetas, narradores, ensayistas, críticos de cine, filósofos,
trabajadores portuarios, escenógrafos, diseñadores, empleados de hotel,
mecanógrafas y vendedores de caramelos cuyo apego a la autenticidad será
reconocido por la historia.
Raul Rivero conoció el reducido espacio concedido a la creación
periodística y decidió apartarse de aquella demoledora herramienta
pulverizadora de talentos y devociones. Y creó Cuba Press. Le siguieron
Jorge Olivera (Habana Press); quien redacta estas líneas (Lux
Infopress); Carmelo Díaz (Agencia de Prensa Independiente Sindical de
Cuba); Luis López Prendes (Buro de Prensa Independiente); Ricardo
Gonzalez (Asociación de Periodistas "Manuel Márquez Sterling); Manuel
Vázquez Portal (Agencia Decoro); Juan Gonzalez Febles y Luis Ciño,
fundadores del periodismo independiente desde el año 1995 y creadores en
2007 de la revista "Primavera"; Luis Rolando Arroyo, Edel Jose García,
Ivan García, Manuel Antonio Brito, Victor Manuel Domínguez, Tania Díaz
Castro, Carlos Rios , Normando Hernández, Tania Quintero, Ana Luisa
López Baeza y cientos de colaboradores anónimos dispersos por toda la isla.
Alcanzó el periodismo independiente un nivel de popularidad y
credibilidad tan elevado, que el régimen infiltró en sus filas a un
reducido grupo de envilecidos delatores cuyos nombres ya nadie recuerda,
ni sus amos que los desprecian. Como los romanos.
Jamás en nuestra breve pero fructífera historia republicana se desató
una ola de represión como la que se lanzó contra los periodistas
independientes. Decenas de ellos fueron enviados a la cárcel en la
llamada "Primavera Negra" del año 2003. En los ilegales registros
practicados a sus hogares no encontraron artefactos explosivos, ni armas
de fuego, ni panfletos incitando a la violencia. Solo hallaron notas de
prensa, entrevistas, anticuadas máquinas de escribir, textos religiosos,
fotos personales y familiares, publicaciones sobre derechos humanos,
cámaras fotográficas y poemas de amor. Fue suficiente para que los
condenaran a largas penas en unos procesos sumarísimos como si se
hubiese tratado de peligrosos delincuentes internacionales sin la menor
posibilidad de una defensa imparcial e independiente.
Muchos de esos valientes continúan trabajando dentro de Cuba mientras
otros eligieron el camino del exilio. Todos merecen nuestro eterno
agradecimiento.
Gracias a ellos la prensa independiente continua viva, como un baluarte
de nuestra futura democracia.
Source: La prensa independiente: baluarte de nuestra futura democracia |
Cubanet -
http://www.cubanet.org/colaboradores/la-prensa-independiente-baluarte-de-nuestra-futura-democracia/
Jamás en nuestra breve pero fructífera historia republicana se desató
una ola de represión como la que se lanzó contra los periodistas
independientes en 2003
jueves, mayo 29, 2014 | Vicente P. Escobal
MIAMI, Florida -Al historiador corresponde la difícil labor de
desentrañar la verdad utilizando para ello, además de su propia
experiencia e interpretación de los hechos, toda la información recogida
a través de diferentes vías y medios. Es una tarea dificultosa y
complicada pues el más minúsculo desliz puede poner en evidencia la
imparcialidad e incluso la reputación del historiador.
Generalmente quien escribe la historia no es precisamente su
protagonista e incluso puede pertenecer al bando de los perdedores. No
siempre los ganadores tienen ese privilegio.
La historia de Cuba posee una característica esencial de acuerdo a los
"ajustes" e "interpretaciones" conferidos por la propaganda oficial.
Según esos "enfoques", el descubrimiento de Cuba se trató de un hecho
fortuito, un albur histórico. Jose Martí no fue el gran alentador de las
ideas democráticas e independentistas, sino el autor intelectual del
asalto al Moncada. El Partido Comunista siempre contó con el abrumador
respaldo de la sociedad cubana, cuando en realidad solo alcanzaba, si
acaso, el dos por ciento de aceptación en las contiendas electorales.
Cuba era un país habitado por analfabetos, prostitutas y enfermos. La
economía cubana estaba absolutamente dirigida por los grandes monopolios
estadounidenses y la política exterior de Cuba se diseñaba en
Washington. El embajador de Estados Unidos tenía más poder que el
presidente de la Republica.
De acuerdo con esas "interpretaciones" Cuba era un fantasma aleteando
sobre las aguas del mar Caribe, un espectro al que solo salvaría del
fuego eterno un predestinado, un visionario, un redentor llamado Fidel
Castro Ruz y su corte de ángeles y arcángeles.
La historia de Cuba comenzó a escribirse, entonces, el 1 de enero de
1959. Todo lo acontecido antes de esa fecha tenía un carácter
delincuencial e indigno. Nadie quedó a salvo de la guadaña castrista
pues el propósito consistía dejar a Cuba sin historia, y cuando un país
pierde su historia lo pierde todo.
¿Fue posible mantener durante mucho tiempo aquella tergiversación y
adulteración de la historia? Mucho antes del derrumbe del Muro de
Berlín, incluso antes de que el debilitamiento del bloque soviético se
hiciera más evidente, aparecieron en Cuba los retoños de un nuevo tipo
de historiadores, inspirados en los padres fundadores del periodismo
cubano, cuyas raíces se extienden más alla de los primeros intentos por
sustraer a Cuba de su condición colonial. Aquellos rebrotes florecieron
y recibieron el nombre de periodistas independientes.
¿Quiénes fueron los que instauraron, sin proponérselo, un nuevo enfoque
de la historia? Los periodistas independientes. ¿Quiénes sacaron a Cuba
del ostracismo y la manipulación? Los periodistas independientes.
¿Quiénes han contribuido a que las futuras generaciones tengan una
referencia crítica e imparcial de la tragedia que ha ensombrecido a la
nación cubana? Los periodistas independientes.
Muchos de esos periodistas independientes jamás habían redactado una
noticia y no poseían la formación profesional que los calificara para
ejercer el peligroso oficio. Solo contaban con la esperanza de sacar a
Cuba de la oscuridad. Otros conocían los entretejidos del periodismo
oficialista, cargado de consignas vacías y censura, incluso conservaban
diplomas, títulos, reconocimientos otorgados por los medios oficiales.
Habia de todo en aquel abigarrado escuadrón de partidarios de la verdad:
poetas, narradores, ensayistas, críticos de cine, filósofos,
trabajadores portuarios, escenógrafos, diseñadores, empleados de hotel,
mecanógrafas y vendedores de caramelos cuyo apego a la autenticidad será
reconocido por la historia.
Raul Rivero conoció el reducido espacio concedido a la creación
periodística y decidió apartarse de aquella demoledora herramienta
pulverizadora de talentos y devociones. Y creó Cuba Press. Le siguieron
Jorge Olivera (Habana Press); quien redacta estas líneas (Lux
Infopress); Carmelo Díaz (Agencia de Prensa Independiente Sindical de
Cuba); Luis López Prendes (Buro de Prensa Independiente); Ricardo
Gonzalez (Asociación de Periodistas "Manuel Márquez Sterling); Manuel
Vázquez Portal (Agencia Decoro); Juan Gonzalez Febles y Luis Ciño,
fundadores del periodismo independiente desde el año 1995 y creadores en
2007 de la revista "Primavera"; Luis Rolando Arroyo, Edel Jose García,
Ivan García, Manuel Antonio Brito, Victor Manuel Domínguez, Tania Díaz
Castro, Carlos Rios , Normando Hernández, Tania Quintero, Ana Luisa
López Baeza y cientos de colaboradores anónimos dispersos por toda la isla.
Alcanzó el periodismo independiente un nivel de popularidad y
credibilidad tan elevado, que el régimen infiltró en sus filas a un
reducido grupo de envilecidos delatores cuyos nombres ya nadie recuerda,
ni sus amos que los desprecian. Como los romanos.
Jamás en nuestra breve pero fructífera historia republicana se desató
una ola de represión como la que se lanzó contra los periodistas
independientes. Decenas de ellos fueron enviados a la cárcel en la
llamada "Primavera Negra" del año 2003. En los ilegales registros
practicados a sus hogares no encontraron artefactos explosivos, ni armas
de fuego, ni panfletos incitando a la violencia. Solo hallaron notas de
prensa, entrevistas, anticuadas máquinas de escribir, textos religiosos,
fotos personales y familiares, publicaciones sobre derechos humanos,
cámaras fotográficas y poemas de amor. Fue suficiente para que los
condenaran a largas penas en unos procesos sumarísimos como si se
hubiese tratado de peligrosos delincuentes internacionales sin la menor
posibilidad de una defensa imparcial e independiente.
Muchos de esos valientes continúan trabajando dentro de Cuba mientras
otros eligieron el camino del exilio. Todos merecen nuestro eterno
agradecimiento.
Gracias a ellos la prensa independiente continua viva, como un baluarte
de nuestra futura democracia.
Source: La prensa independiente: baluarte de nuestra futura democracia |
Cubanet -
http://www.cubanet.org/colaboradores/la-prensa-independiente-baluarte-de-nuestra-futura-democracia/
Cuba alcanza cifra récord de represión en mayo
Cuba alcanza cifra récord de represión en mayo
En dicho mes, se pudo verificar al menos 1120 detenciones de pacíficos
disidentes. Entre 6 y 10 de los detenidos no fueron excarcelados y les
remitieron, sujetos a proceso, a prisiones de alta seguridad
lunes, junio 2, 2014 | CubaNet
Cuba alcanzó durante el pasado mes de mayo una de las cifras más altas
de las últimas décadas en cuanto al número de detenciones por motivos
políticos, según un informe de la Comisión Cubana de Derechos Humanos y
Reconciliación Nacional.
En dicho mes la Comisión pudo verificar al menos 1120 detenciones de
pacíficos disidentes. Entre 6 y 10 de los detenidos no fueron
excarcelados y les remitieron, sujetos a proceso, a prisiones de alta
seguridad.
"Estamos seguros de que las cifras reales son aún mayores debido a que
estamos sometidos al régimen más cerrado de todo el Hemisferio
Occidental y resulta imposible documentar todos los casos de represión
política y mucho menos la sistemática represión contra toda la
sociedad", asegura el informe.
"El Gobierno de Cuba, que ha entrado ya en su año 56 ejerciendo el poder
con mano de hierro, continúa criminalizando el ejercicio de todos los
derechos civiles y políticos y otros derechos fundamentales", puntualiza.
En el pasado mes "documentamos un aumento de la violencia represiva
contra los ciudadanos que se atreven a disentir públicamente. Como botón
de muestra mencionamos, entre otros muchos, el caso del periodista
Guillermo Fariñas, premio Sajarov del Parlamento Europeo, a quien han
detenido cada lunes de las últimas 19 semanas, y sometido, cada vez, al
procedimiento de la tortura mediante hipotermia artificial, además de
golpizas y vejámenes. Para colmo, este sábado 31 de mayo, alrededor de
la medianoche, fue virtualmente amenazado de muerte, en presencia de
testigos, por un alto oficial de la policía política secreta del
Ministerio del Interior".
Las señales que sigue emitiendo el Gobierno de Cuba son desalentadoras
en cuanto a la posibilidad de que respete, al menos a corto plazo, los
estándares internacionales en materia de derechos humanos y cumpla a
cabalidad lo establecido en la Constitución y otras relevantes Leyes
Nacionales.
Source: Cuba alcanza cifra récord de represión en mayo | Cubanet -
http://www.cubanet.org/mas-noticias/cuba-alcanza-cifra-record-de-represion-en-mayo/
En dicho mes, se pudo verificar al menos 1120 detenciones de pacíficos
disidentes. Entre 6 y 10 de los detenidos no fueron excarcelados y les
remitieron, sujetos a proceso, a prisiones de alta seguridad
lunes, junio 2, 2014 | CubaNet
Cuba alcanzó durante el pasado mes de mayo una de las cifras más altas
de las últimas décadas en cuanto al número de detenciones por motivos
políticos, según un informe de la Comisión Cubana de Derechos Humanos y
Reconciliación Nacional.
En dicho mes la Comisión pudo verificar al menos 1120 detenciones de
pacíficos disidentes. Entre 6 y 10 de los detenidos no fueron
excarcelados y les remitieron, sujetos a proceso, a prisiones de alta
seguridad.
"Estamos seguros de que las cifras reales son aún mayores debido a que
estamos sometidos al régimen más cerrado de todo el Hemisferio
Occidental y resulta imposible documentar todos los casos de represión
política y mucho menos la sistemática represión contra toda la
sociedad", asegura el informe.
"El Gobierno de Cuba, que ha entrado ya en su año 56 ejerciendo el poder
con mano de hierro, continúa criminalizando el ejercicio de todos los
derechos civiles y políticos y otros derechos fundamentales", puntualiza.
En el pasado mes "documentamos un aumento de la violencia represiva
contra los ciudadanos que se atreven a disentir públicamente. Como botón
de muestra mencionamos, entre otros muchos, el caso del periodista
Guillermo Fariñas, premio Sajarov del Parlamento Europeo, a quien han
detenido cada lunes de las últimas 19 semanas, y sometido, cada vez, al
procedimiento de la tortura mediante hipotermia artificial, además de
golpizas y vejámenes. Para colmo, este sábado 31 de mayo, alrededor de
la medianoche, fue virtualmente amenazado de muerte, en presencia de
testigos, por un alto oficial de la policía política secreta del
Ministerio del Interior".
Las señales que sigue emitiendo el Gobierno de Cuba son desalentadoras
en cuanto a la posibilidad de que respete, al menos a corto plazo, los
estándares internacionales en materia de derechos humanos y cumpla a
cabalidad lo establecido en la Constitución y otras relevantes Leyes
Nacionales.
Source: Cuba alcanza cifra récord de represión en mayo | Cubanet -
http://www.cubanet.org/mas-noticias/cuba-alcanza-cifra-record-de-represion-en-mayo/
Foreign Investors Won't Liberate Cuba
Foreign Investors Won't Liberate Cuba
The billions already poured into the island have done nothing to advance
civil society.
By MARY ANASTASIA O'GRADY
June 1, 2014 6:24 p.m. ET
Attitudes toward the 52-year-old—though much-modified—U.S. embargo of
Cuba's military dictatorship have changed a lot in recent years. But not
always in the ways you might expect.
There was a time when it was not hard to find a Cuban dissident willing
to criticize the embargo. Today, a great many of the island's political
activists and human-rights advocates no longer believe that foreign
investment helps them in their struggle for liberation. They are asking
for more economic pressure on the regime from abroad, not less.
As Cuban political activist Antonio Rodiles told journalist Pablo Diaz
Espi for the Spanish website Diario de Cuba last month, "We need, first
and foremost, the re-establishment of basic rights and freedoms. The
international pressure, which includes the American embargo, is very
necessary to at least contain the impunity enjoyed by the totalitarian
regime."
Enlarge Image
U.S. Chamber of Commerce President and Chief Executive Officer Thomas
Donohue addresses the audience during a conference at the University of
Havana May 29, 2014. Reuters
This is worth noting, not the least because of new pressures on
President Obama to allow Americans to do more business in Cuba. Last
month one group—made up largely of lobbyists and former U.S. bureaucrats
and politicians who now make their living as consultants—sent a letter
to Mr. Obama asking him to unilaterally lift some restrictions on U.S.
investment and travel to Cuba.
The letter's signers say a change in U.S. policy "can help the Cuban
people determine their own destiny," strengthen civil society and
improve bilateral relations between the U.S. and the dictatorship. But
as Cubans are not allowed to freely engage in any business transaction
with a foreign entity, any new investment from the U.S. must go through
the Castro brothers and their friends.
The dissident community on the island and in exile responded to the
letter with indignation. "The embargo that must be eliminated is the one
which totalitarianism has imposed on the Cuban people," Cuban poet and
former political prisoner Raúl Rivero wrote in the Spanish daily El
Mundo. As to bilateral relations, once there is a democracy, "the issues
between both governments can be resolved diplomatically in 24 hours."
Cuba's Christian Liberation Movement, founded by the late Oswaldo Payá,
had this to say: "To support and applaud this logic of no-rights is an
act of complicity that infringes, precisely, against the potential birth
of a real 'civil society.' "
Advocates for economic liberty argue that the embargo unjustly restricts
American freedom: Investing abroad is central to free trade whether in
South Africa during apartheid or in Castro's Cuba. That's a defensible
libertarian argument. But it's a bad joke coming from signatories to the
letter like Andres Fanjul, whose family made a fortune from U.S. sugar
quotas or Venezuelan tycoon Gustavo Cisneros.
On a visit to Cuba last week Tom Donohue, the head of the U.S. Chamber
of Commerce, reportedly commended the regime for its recent efforts to
attract investment. That's a howler too.
For more than 20 years Castro has been inviting foreigners to run
hotels, mine for nickel, make cement and otherwise provide capital to
the island. Spaniards, Canadians, Brits, Swiss, Italians and Russians,
among others, have invested billions in partnership with the government.
Some of these investors have made use of confiscated American property.
Millions of Europeans and Latin Americans have made Cuba a tourist
destination. Hundreds of thousands of Americans now travel to the island
every year.
Yet Cubans are still tyrannized. Foreign employers pay the government in
hard currency, but the government pays the workforce slave wages in
nearly worthless local pesos. Foreign capital funneled to the despots
has only made life for ordinary Cubans worse because it has given Castro
an economic lifeline and more resources with which to repress the
population.
Cuban philosopher and former University of Havana Professor Alexis
Jardines argued in Diario de Cuba last week that focusing on Cuba's
economic problems plays into the hands of the thugs: "We shouldn't
forget that in state socialism, misery is artificially provoked."
It's true that Cuba is changing slowly, but that's being driven by
desperation not engagement. The Castros want to end the embargo not
because they are reforming but because they are not reforming. The
economy remains a train wreck. The regime can now buy all the food and
medicine it wants from the U.S., but under the embargo it has to pay
cash. Having defaulted on nearly $75 billion in loans from the rest of
the world, it has run out of willing state creditors.
Cubans now permitted to travel abroad bring merchandise from Miami,
reducing some of the privation on the island. But the regime knows well
that accumulating wealth means accumulating some control of one's own
destiny. That's why a foreigner caught paying an employee hard currency
can end up in jail.
It can be profitable doing business in a Caribbean country with one-man
rule. I get it. But the theory that a wave of foreign investment to Cuba
will swamp the totalitarian boat has been tested and failed. Let's not
pretend that cutting deals with plantation owners is about making Cubans
better off.
Write to O'Grady@wsj.com
Source: Mary O'Grady: Foreign Investors Won't Liberate Cuba - WSJ -
http://online.wsj.com/articles/mary-ogrady-foreign-investors-wont-liberate-cuba-1401661465
The billions already poured into the island have done nothing to advance
civil society.
By MARY ANASTASIA O'GRADY
June 1, 2014 6:24 p.m. ET
Attitudes toward the 52-year-old—though much-modified—U.S. embargo of
Cuba's military dictatorship have changed a lot in recent years. But not
always in the ways you might expect.
There was a time when it was not hard to find a Cuban dissident willing
to criticize the embargo. Today, a great many of the island's political
activists and human-rights advocates no longer believe that foreign
investment helps them in their struggle for liberation. They are asking
for more economic pressure on the regime from abroad, not less.
As Cuban political activist Antonio Rodiles told journalist Pablo Diaz
Espi for the Spanish website Diario de Cuba last month, "We need, first
and foremost, the re-establishment of basic rights and freedoms. The
international pressure, which includes the American embargo, is very
necessary to at least contain the impunity enjoyed by the totalitarian
regime."
Enlarge Image
U.S. Chamber of Commerce President and Chief Executive Officer Thomas
Donohue addresses the audience during a conference at the University of
Havana May 29, 2014. Reuters
This is worth noting, not the least because of new pressures on
President Obama to allow Americans to do more business in Cuba. Last
month one group—made up largely of lobbyists and former U.S. bureaucrats
and politicians who now make their living as consultants—sent a letter
to Mr. Obama asking him to unilaterally lift some restrictions on U.S.
investment and travel to Cuba.
The letter's signers say a change in U.S. policy "can help the Cuban
people determine their own destiny," strengthen civil society and
improve bilateral relations between the U.S. and the dictatorship. But
as Cubans are not allowed to freely engage in any business transaction
with a foreign entity, any new investment from the U.S. must go through
the Castro brothers and their friends.
The dissident community on the island and in exile responded to the
letter with indignation. "The embargo that must be eliminated is the one
which totalitarianism has imposed on the Cuban people," Cuban poet and
former political prisoner Raúl Rivero wrote in the Spanish daily El
Mundo. As to bilateral relations, once there is a democracy, "the issues
between both governments can be resolved diplomatically in 24 hours."
Cuba's Christian Liberation Movement, founded by the late Oswaldo Payá,
had this to say: "To support and applaud this logic of no-rights is an
act of complicity that infringes, precisely, against the potential birth
of a real 'civil society.' "
Advocates for economic liberty argue that the embargo unjustly restricts
American freedom: Investing abroad is central to free trade whether in
South Africa during apartheid or in Castro's Cuba. That's a defensible
libertarian argument. But it's a bad joke coming from signatories to the
letter like Andres Fanjul, whose family made a fortune from U.S. sugar
quotas or Venezuelan tycoon Gustavo Cisneros.
On a visit to Cuba last week Tom Donohue, the head of the U.S. Chamber
of Commerce, reportedly commended the regime for its recent efforts to
attract investment. That's a howler too.
For more than 20 years Castro has been inviting foreigners to run
hotels, mine for nickel, make cement and otherwise provide capital to
the island. Spaniards, Canadians, Brits, Swiss, Italians and Russians,
among others, have invested billions in partnership with the government.
Some of these investors have made use of confiscated American property.
Millions of Europeans and Latin Americans have made Cuba a tourist
destination. Hundreds of thousands of Americans now travel to the island
every year.
Yet Cubans are still tyrannized. Foreign employers pay the government in
hard currency, but the government pays the workforce slave wages in
nearly worthless local pesos. Foreign capital funneled to the despots
has only made life for ordinary Cubans worse because it has given Castro
an economic lifeline and more resources with which to repress the
population.
Cuban philosopher and former University of Havana Professor Alexis
Jardines argued in Diario de Cuba last week that focusing on Cuba's
economic problems plays into the hands of the thugs: "We shouldn't
forget that in state socialism, misery is artificially provoked."
It's true that Cuba is changing slowly, but that's being driven by
desperation not engagement. The Castros want to end the embargo not
because they are reforming but because they are not reforming. The
economy remains a train wreck. The regime can now buy all the food and
medicine it wants from the U.S., but under the embargo it has to pay
cash. Having defaulted on nearly $75 billion in loans from the rest of
the world, it has run out of willing state creditors.
Cubans now permitted to travel abroad bring merchandise from Miami,
reducing some of the privation on the island. But the regime knows well
that accumulating wealth means accumulating some control of one's own
destiny. That's why a foreigner caught paying an employee hard currency
can end up in jail.
It can be profitable doing business in a Caribbean country with one-man
rule. I get it. But the theory that a wave of foreign investment to Cuba
will swamp the totalitarian boat has been tested and failed. Let's not
pretend that cutting deals with plantation owners is about making Cubans
better off.
Write to O'Grady@wsj.com
Source: Mary O'Grady: Foreign Investors Won't Liberate Cuba - WSJ -
http://online.wsj.com/articles/mary-ogrady-foreign-investors-wont-liberate-cuba-1401661465
The Last Communist City, A visit to the dystopian Havana that tourists never see
Cuba Brief: The Last Communist City, A visit to the dystopian Havana
that tourists never see
[02-06-2014 14:08:24]
Cuba Transition Project
(www.miscelaneasdecuba.net).- Neill Blomkamp's 2013 science-fiction film
Elysium, starring Matt Damon and Jodie Foster, takes place in Los
Angeles, circa 2154. The wealthy have moved into an orbiting luxury
satellite—the Elysium of the title—while the wretched majority of humans
remain in squalor on Earth. The film works passably as an allegory for
its director's native South Africa, where racial apartheid was enforced
for nearly 50 years, but it's a rather cartoonish vision of the American
future. Some critics panned the film for pushing a socialist message.
Elysium's dystopian world, however, is a near-perfect metaphor for an
actually existing socialist nation just 90 miles from Florida.
I've always wanted to visit Cuba—not because I'm nostalgic for a botched
utopian fantasy but because I wanted to experience Communism firsthand.
When I finally got my chance several months ago, I was startled to
discover how much the Cuban reality lines up with Blomkamp's dystopia.
In Cuba, as in Elysium, a small group of economic and political elites
live in a rarefied world high above the impoverished masses. Karl Marx
and Friedrich Engels, authors of The Communist Manifesto, would be
appalled by the misery endured by Cuba's ordinary citizens and shocked
by the relatively luxurious lifestyles of those who keep the poor down
by force.
Many tourists return home convinced that the Cuban model succeeds where
the Soviet model failed. But that's because they never left Cuba's Elysium.
I had to lie to get into the country. Customs and immigration officials
at Havana's tiny, dreary José Martí International Airport would have
evicted me had they known I was a journalist. But not even a
total-surveillance police state can keep track of everything and
everyone all the time, so I slipped through. It felt like a victory.
Havana, the capital, is clean and safe, but there's nothing to buy. It
feels less natural and organic than any city I've ever visited.
Initially, I found Havana pleasant, partly because I wasn't supposed to
be there and partly because I felt as though I had journeyed backward in
time. But the city wasn't pleasant for long, and it certainly isn't
pleasant for the people living there. It hasn't been so for decades.
Outside its small tourist sector, the rest of the city looks as though
it suffered a catastrophe on the scale of Hurricane Katrina or the
Indonesian tsunami. Roofs have collapsed. Walls are splitting apart.
Window glass is missing. Paint has long vanished. It's eerily dark at
night, almost entirely free of automobile traffic. I walked for miles
through an enormous swath of destruction without seeing a single
tourist. Most foreigners don't know that this other Havana exists,
though it makes up most of the city—tourist buses avoid it, as do taxis
arriving from the airport. It is filled with people struggling to eke
out a life in the ruins.
Marxists have ruled Cuba for more than a half-century now. Fidel Castro,
Argentine guerrilla Che Guevara, and their 26th of July Movement forced
Fulgencio Batista from power in 1959 and replaced his standard-issue
authoritarian regime with a Communist one. The revolutionaries promised
liberal democracy, but Castro secured absolute power and flattened the
country with a Marxist-Leninist battering ram. The objectives were total
equality and the abolition of money; the methods were total surveillance
and political prisons. The state slogan, then and now, is "socialism or
death."
Cuba was one of the world's richest countries before Castro destroyed
it—and the wealth wasn't just in the hands of a tiny elite. "Contrary to
the myth spread by the revolution," wrote Alfred Cuzan, a professor of
political science at the University of West Florida, "Cuba's wealth
before 1959 was not the purview of a privileged few. . . . Cuban society
was as much of a middle-class society as Argentina and Chile." In 1958,
Cuba had a higher per-capita income than much of Europe. "More Americans
lived in Cuba prior to Castro than Cubans lived in the United States,"
Cuban exile Humberto Fontova, author of a series of books about Castro
and Guevara, tells me. "This was at a time when Cubans were perfectly
free to leave the country with all their property. In the 1940s and
1950s, my parents could get a visa for the United States just by asking.
They visited the United States and voluntarily returned to Cuba. More
Cubans vacationed in the U.S. in 1955 than Americans vacationed in Cuba.
Americans considered Cuba a tourist playground, but even more Cubans
considered the U.S. a tourist playground." Havana was home to a lot of
that prosperity, as is evident in the extraordinary classical European
architecture that still fills the city. Poor nations do not—cannot—build
such grand or elegant cities.
But rather than raise the poor up, Castro and Guevara shoved the rich
and the middle class down. The result was collapse. "Between 1960 and
1976," Cuzan says, "Cuba's per capita GNP in constant dollars declined
at an average annual rate of almost half a percent. The country thus has
the tragic distinction of being the only one in Latin America to have
experienced a drop in living standards over the period."
Communism destroyed Cuba's prosperity, but the country experienced
unprecedented pain and deprivation when Moscow cut off its subsidies
after the fall of the Soviet Union. Journalist and longtime Cuba
resident Mark Frank writes vividly about this period in his book Cuban
Revelations. "The lights were off more than they were on, and so too was
the water. . . . Food was scarce and other consumer goods almost
nonexistent. . . . Doctors set broken bones without anesthesia. . . .
Worm dung was the only fertilizer." He quotes a nurse who tells him that
Cubans "used to make hamburgers out of grapefruit rinds and banana
peels; we cleaned with lime and bitter orange and used the black powder
in batteries for hair dye and makeup." "It was a haunting time," Frank
wrote, "that still sends shivers down Cubans' collective spines."
By the 1990s, Cuba needed economic reform as much as a gunshot victim
needs an ambulance. Castro wasn't about to reform himself and his
ideology out of existence, but he had to open up at least a small piece
of the country to the global economy. So the Soviet subsidy was replaced
by vacationers, mostly from Europe and Latin America, who brought in
much-needed hard currency. Arriving foreigners weren't going to tolerate
receiving ration cards for food—as the locals do—so the island also
needed some restaurants. The regime thus allowed paladars—restaurants
inside private homes—to open, though no one from outside the family
could work in them. (That would be "exploitative.") Around the same
time, government-run "dollar stores" began selling imported and
relatively luxurious goods to non-Cubans. Thus was Cuba's
quasi-capitalist bubble created.
When the ailing Fidel Castro ceded power to his less doctrinaire younger
brother Raúl in 2008, the quasi-capitalist bubble expanded, but the
economy remains heavily socialist. In the United States, we have a
minimum wage; Cuba has a maximumwage—$20 a month for almost every job in
the country. (Professionals such as doctors and lawyers can make a
whopping $10 extra a month.) Sure, Cubans get "free" health care and
education, but as Cuban exile and Yale historian Carlos Eire says, "All
slave owners need to keep their slaves healthy and ensure that they have
the skills to perform their tasks."
Even employees inside the quasi-capitalist bubble don't get paid more.
The government contracts with Spanish companies such as Meliá
International to manage Havana's hotels. Before accepting its contract,
Meliá said that it wanted to pay workers a decent wage. The Cuban
government said fine, so the company pays $8–$10 an hour. But Meliá
doesn't pay its employees directly. Instead, the firm gives the
compensation to the government, which then pays the workers—but only
after pocketing most of the money. I asked several Cubans in my hotel if
that arrangement is really true. All confirmed that it is. The workers
don't get $8–$10 an hour; they get 67 cents a day—a child's allowance.
The maximum wage is just the beginning. Not only are most Cubans not
allowed to have money; they're hardly allowed to have things. The police
expend extraordinary manpower ensuring that everyone required to live
miserably at the bottom actually does live miserably at the bottom.
Dissident blogger and author Yoani Sánchez describes the harassment
sarcastically in her book Havana Real: "Buses are stopped in the middle
of the street and bags inspected to see if we are carrying some cheese,
a lobster, or some dangerous shrimp hidden among our personal
belongings." Perhaps the saddest symptom of Cuba's state-enforced
poverty is the prostitution epidemic—a problem the government officially
denies and even forbids foreign journalists based in Havana to mention.
Some Cuban prostitutes are professionals, but many are average
women—wives, girlfriends, sisters, mothers—who solicit johns once or
twice a year for a little extra money to make ends meet.
The government defends its maximum wage by arguing that life's
necessities are either free or so deeply subsidized in Cuba that
citizens don't need very much money. (Che Guevara and his sophomoric
hangers-on hoped to rid Cuba of money entirely, but couldn't quite pull
it off.) The free and subsidized goods and services, though, are as
dismal as everything else on the island. Citizens who take public
transportation to work—which includes almost everyone, since Cuba hardly
has any cars—must wait in lines for up to two hours each way to get on a
bus. And commuters must pay for their ride out of their $20 a month. At
least commuter buses are cheap. By contrast, a one-way ticket to the
other side of the island costs several months' pay; a round-trip costs
almost an annual salary.
As for the free health care, patients have to bring their own medicine,
their own bedsheets, and even their own iodine to the hospital. Most of
these items are available only on the illegal black market, moreover,
and must be paid for in hard currency—and sometimes they're not
available at all. Cuba has sent so many doctors abroad—especially to
Venezuela, in exchange for oil—that the island is now facing a personnel
shortage. "I don't want to say there are no doctors left," says an
American man who married a Cuban woman and has been back dozens of
times, "but the island is now almost empty. I saw a banner once, hanging
from somebody's balcony, that said, DO I NEED TO GO TO VENEZUELA FOR MY
HEADACHE?"
Housing is free, too, but so what? Americans can get houses in abandoned
parts of Detroit for only $500—which makes them practically free—but no
one wants to live in a crumbling house in a gone-to-the-weeds
neighborhood. I saw adequate housing in the Cuban countryside, but
almost everyone in Havana lives in a Detroit-style wreck, with caved-in
roofs, peeling paint, and doors hanging on their hinges at odd angles.
Education is free, and the country is effectively 100 percent literate,
thanks to Castro's campaign to teach rural people to read shortly after
he took power. But the regime has yet to make a persuasive argument that
a totalitarian police state was required to get the literacy rate from
80 percent to 100 percent. After all, almost every other country in the
Western Hemisphere managed the same feat at the same time, without the
brutal repression.
Cuba is short of everything but air and sunshine. In her book, Sánchez
describes an astonishing appearance by Raúl Castro on television, during
which he boasted that the economy was doing so well now that everyone
could drink milk. "To me," Sánchez wrote, "someone who grew up on a gulp
of orange-peel tea, the news seemed incredible." She never thought she'd
see the day. "I believed we would put a man on the moon, take first
place among all nations in the upcoming Olympics, or discover a vaccine
for AIDS before we would put the forgotten morning café con leche,
coffee with milk, within reach of every person on this island." And yet
Raúl's promise of milk for all was deleted from the transcription of the
speech in Granma, the Communist Party newspaper. He went too far: there
was not enough milk to ensure that everyone got some.
Even things as simple as cooking oil and soap are black-market goods.
Individuals who, by some illegal means or another, manage to acquire
such desirables will stand on street corners and whisper "cooking oil"
or "sugar" to passersby, and then sell the product on the sly out of
their living room. If they're caught, both sellers and buyers will be
arrested, of course, but the authorities can't put the entire country in
jail. "Everyone cheats," says Eire. "One must in order to survive. The
verb Ωto steal≈ has almost vanished from usage. Breaking the rules is
necessary. Resolví mi problema, which means 'I solved my problem,' is
the Cuban way of referring to stealing or cheating or selling on the
black market."
Cuba has two economies now: the national Communist economy for the
majority; and a quasi-capitalist one for foreigners and the elite. Each
has its own currency: the Communist economy uses the Cuban peso, and the
capitalist bubble uses the convertible peso. Cuban pesos are worth
nothing. They can't be converted to dollars or euros. Foreigners can't
even spend them in Cuba. The convertible pesos are pegged to the U.S.
dollar, but banks and hotels pay only 87 Cuban cents for each one—the
government takes 13 percent off the top. The rigged exchange rate is an
easy way to shake down foreigners without most noticing. It also enables
the state to drain Cuban exiles. A million Cuban-Americans live in south
Florida, and another half-million live elsewhere in the United States.
They send hundreds of millions of dollars a year to family members still
on the island. The government gets its 13 percent instantaneously and
most of the remaining 87 percent later because almost every place that
someone can spend the money is owned by the state.
Castro created the convertible peso mainly to seal off Cuba's little
capitalist bubble from the ragged majority in the Communist economy.
"Foreign journalists report on the creation of ever more luxurious
hotels, golf courses, and marinas," Eire says, "but fail to highlight
the very simple and brutal fact that these facilities will be enjoyed
strictly by foreigners and the Castronoid power elite. Apartheid,
discrimination, and segregation are deliberately built in to the entire
tourist industry and, in fact, are essential to its maintenance and
survival."
Until a few years ago, ordinary Cubans weren't allowed even to set foot
inside hotels or restaurants unless they worked there, lest they find
themselves exposed to the seductive lifestyles of the decadent
bourgeoisie from capitalist nations like Mexico, Chile, and Spain. (I
cite these three countries because most of the tourists I ran into spoke
Spanish to one another.) A few years ago, the government stopped
physically blocking Cubans from hotels and restaurants, partly because
Raúl is a little more relaxed about these things than Fidel but also
because most Cubans can't afford to go to these places, anyway.
A single restaurant meal in Havana costs an entire month's salary. One
night in a hotel costs five months' salary. A middle-class tourist from
abroad can easily spend more in one day than most Cubans make in a year.
I had dinner with four Americans at one of the paladars. The only Cubans
in the restaurant were the cooks and the waiters. The bill for the five
of us came to about $100. That's five months' salary.
The Floridita bar in downtown Havana was one of Ernest Hemingway's
hangouts when he lived there (from 1940 until 1960, the year after
Castro came to power). He was in the Floridita all the time—and, in a
way, he still is. There's a statue of him sitting on his favorite bar
stool, grinning at today's patrons. The décor is exactly the same, but
there's a big difference: everyone in the bar these days is a tourist.
Cubans aren't strictly banned any more, but a single bottle of beer
costs a week's salary. No one would blow his dismal paycheck on that.
If he were still around, Hemingway would be stunned to see what has
happened to his old haunt. Cubans certainly aren't happy about it, but
the tourists are another story—especially the world's remaining Marxoid
fellow travelers, who show up in Havana by the planeload. Such people
are clearly unteachable. I got into an argument with one at the
Floridita when I pointed out that none of the patrons were Cuban. "There
are places in the United States that some can't afford," she retorted.
Sure, but come on. Not even the poorest Americans have to pay a week's
wage for a beer.
Cubans in the hotel industry see how foreigners live. The government
can't hide it without shutting the hotels down entirely, and it can't do
that because it needs the money. I changed a few hundred American
dollars into convertible pesos at the front desk. The woman at the
counter didn't blink when I handed over my cash—she does this all
day—but when she first got the job, it must have been shattering to make
such an exchange. That's why the regime wants to keep foreigners and
locals apart.
Tourists tip waiters, taxi drivers, tour guides, and chambermaids in
hard currency, and to stave off a revolt from these people, the
government lets them keep the additional money, so they're "rich"
compared with everyone else. In fact, they're an elite class enjoying
privileges—enough income to afford a cell phone, go out to restaurants
and bars, log on to the Internet once in a while—that ordinary Cubans
can't even dream of. I asked a few people how much chambermaids earn in
tips, partly so that I would know how much to leave on my dresser and
also to get an idea of just how crazy Cuban economics are. Supposedly,
the maids get about $1 per day for each room. If they clean an average
of 30 rooms a day and work five days a week, they'll bring in $600 a
month—30 times what everyone else gets. "All animals are equal," George
Orwell wrote in Animal Farm, his allegory of Stalinism, "but some
animals are more equal than others." Only in the funhouse of a Communist
country is the cleaning lady rich compared with the lawyer. Yet elite
Cubans are impoverished compared with the middle class and even the poor
outside Cuba.
About half the dinners I had were acceptable, and a few were
outstanding, but the breakfast buffets in my hotel, the Habana Libre,
were uniformly disgusting. Bacon was half-raw, the sausage made from
God-knows-what. The cheese was discolored, the bread hard and
flavorless. Yet the grim offering was advertised in the lobby as
"exquisite." Maybe if you've spent your entire life on a Cuban ration
card, it's exquisite, but otherwise—no. The question wasn't what I
wanted to eat, but what I thought I could eat without my stomach rising
up in rebellion.
Leftists often talk about "food deserts" in Western cities, where the
poor supposedly lack options to buy affordable and nutritious food. If
they want to see a real food desert, they should come to Havana. I went
to a grocery store across the street from the exclusive Meliá Cohiba
Hotel, where the lucky few with access to hard currency shop to
supplement their meager state rations. The store was in what passes for
a mall in Havana—a cluttered concrete box, shabby compared even with
malls I've visited in Iraq. It carried rice, beans, frozen chicken,
milk, bottled water, booze, a small bit of cheese, minuscule amounts of
rancid-looking meat, some low-end cookies and chips from Brazil—and
that's it. No produce, cereal, no cans of soup, no pasta. A 7–11 has a
far better selection, and this is a place for Cuba's "rich" to shop. I
heard, but cannot confirm, that potatoes would not be available anywhere
in Cuba for another four months.
Shortly before I left Havana, I met a Cuban-American man and his wife
visiting from Miami. "Is this your first time here?" he asked. I nodded.
"What do you think?" I paused before answering. I wasn't worried that I
would offend him. He lives in Miami, so his opinions of Cuba are
probably little different from mine. But we were in a crowded place.
Plenty of Cubans could hear us, including the police. They wouldn't
arrest me if I insulted the government, but I didn't want to make a
scene, either. "Well," I finally said. "It's . . . interesting." He
belted out a great belly laugh, and I smiled. His wife scowled.
"I hate this place!" she near-shouted. Fidel himself could have heard,
and she wouldn't have cared. She wasn't going to be quiet about it.
Tourists who visit Cuba and spend all their time inside the bubble for
the "haves" could leave the country oblivious to the savage inequalities
and squalor beyond the hotel zone, but this woman visits her husband's
family in the real Cuba and knows what it's really like.
"His family is from here," she said, "but mine's not, and I will never
come back here. Not while it's like this. I feel like I'm in Iraq or
Afghanistan." I visited Iraq seven times during the war and didn't have
the heart to tell her that Baghdad, while ugly and dangerous, is vastly
freer and more prosperous these days than Havana. Anyway, Iraq is
precisely the kind of country with which Castro wants you to compare
Cuba. It's the wrong comparison. So are impoverished Third World
countries like Guatemala and Haiti. Cuba isn't a developing country;
it's a once-developed country destroyed by its own government. Havana
was a magnificent Western city once. It should be compared not with
Baghdad, Kabul, Guatemala City, or Port-au-Prince but with formerly
Communist Budapest, Prague, or Berlin. Havana's history mirrors theirs,
after all.
An advertisement in my hotel claimed that the Sierra Maestra restaurant
on the top floor is "probably" the best in Havana. I had saved the
Sierra Maestra for my last night and rode the elevator up to the 25th
floor. I had my first and only steak on the island and washed it down
with Chilean red wine. The tiny bill set me back no more than having a
pizza delivered at home would, but the total nevertheless exceeded an
entire month's local salary. Not surprisingly, I ate alone. Every other
table was empty. The staff waited on me as if I were the president of
some faraway minor republic.
I stared at the city below out the window as I sipped my red wine.
Havana looked like a glittering metropolis in the dark. Night washed
away the rot and the grime and revealed nothing but city lights. It
occurred to me that Havana will look mostly the same—at night,
anyway—after it is liberated from the tyrannical imbeciles who govern it
now. I tried to pretend that I was looking out on a Cuba that was
already free and that the tables around me were occupied—by local
people, not foreigners—but the fantasy faded fast. I was all alone at
the top of Cuba's Elysium and yearning for home—where capitalism's
inequalities are not so jagged and stark.
Michael J. Totten is a City Journal contributing editor and the author
of five books, including The Road to Fatima Gate.
**Previously published in City Journal. Spring 2014.
http://www.city-journal.org/2014/24_2_havana.html.
Source: Cuba Brief: The Last Communist City, A visit to the dystopian
Havana that tourists never see - Misceláneas de Cuba -
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/web/Article/Index/538c69383a682e061c811374#.U4yWPPmSwx4
that tourists never see
[02-06-2014 14:08:24]
Cuba Transition Project
(www.miscelaneasdecuba.net).- Neill Blomkamp's 2013 science-fiction film
Elysium, starring Matt Damon and Jodie Foster, takes place in Los
Angeles, circa 2154. The wealthy have moved into an orbiting luxury
satellite—the Elysium of the title—while the wretched majority of humans
remain in squalor on Earth. The film works passably as an allegory for
its director's native South Africa, where racial apartheid was enforced
for nearly 50 years, but it's a rather cartoonish vision of the American
future. Some critics panned the film for pushing a socialist message.
Elysium's dystopian world, however, is a near-perfect metaphor for an
actually existing socialist nation just 90 miles from Florida.
I've always wanted to visit Cuba—not because I'm nostalgic for a botched
utopian fantasy but because I wanted to experience Communism firsthand.
When I finally got my chance several months ago, I was startled to
discover how much the Cuban reality lines up with Blomkamp's dystopia.
In Cuba, as in Elysium, a small group of economic and political elites
live in a rarefied world high above the impoverished masses. Karl Marx
and Friedrich Engels, authors of The Communist Manifesto, would be
appalled by the misery endured by Cuba's ordinary citizens and shocked
by the relatively luxurious lifestyles of those who keep the poor down
by force.
Many tourists return home convinced that the Cuban model succeeds where
the Soviet model failed. But that's because they never left Cuba's Elysium.
I had to lie to get into the country. Customs and immigration officials
at Havana's tiny, dreary José Martí International Airport would have
evicted me had they known I was a journalist. But not even a
total-surveillance police state can keep track of everything and
everyone all the time, so I slipped through. It felt like a victory.
Havana, the capital, is clean and safe, but there's nothing to buy. It
feels less natural and organic than any city I've ever visited.
Initially, I found Havana pleasant, partly because I wasn't supposed to
be there and partly because I felt as though I had journeyed backward in
time. But the city wasn't pleasant for long, and it certainly isn't
pleasant for the people living there. It hasn't been so for decades.
Outside its small tourist sector, the rest of the city looks as though
it suffered a catastrophe on the scale of Hurricane Katrina or the
Indonesian tsunami. Roofs have collapsed. Walls are splitting apart.
Window glass is missing. Paint has long vanished. It's eerily dark at
night, almost entirely free of automobile traffic. I walked for miles
through an enormous swath of destruction without seeing a single
tourist. Most foreigners don't know that this other Havana exists,
though it makes up most of the city—tourist buses avoid it, as do taxis
arriving from the airport. It is filled with people struggling to eke
out a life in the ruins.
Marxists have ruled Cuba for more than a half-century now. Fidel Castro,
Argentine guerrilla Che Guevara, and their 26th of July Movement forced
Fulgencio Batista from power in 1959 and replaced his standard-issue
authoritarian regime with a Communist one. The revolutionaries promised
liberal democracy, but Castro secured absolute power and flattened the
country with a Marxist-Leninist battering ram. The objectives were total
equality and the abolition of money; the methods were total surveillance
and political prisons. The state slogan, then and now, is "socialism or
death."
Cuba was one of the world's richest countries before Castro destroyed
it—and the wealth wasn't just in the hands of a tiny elite. "Contrary to
the myth spread by the revolution," wrote Alfred Cuzan, a professor of
political science at the University of West Florida, "Cuba's wealth
before 1959 was not the purview of a privileged few. . . . Cuban society
was as much of a middle-class society as Argentina and Chile." In 1958,
Cuba had a higher per-capita income than much of Europe. "More Americans
lived in Cuba prior to Castro than Cubans lived in the United States,"
Cuban exile Humberto Fontova, author of a series of books about Castro
and Guevara, tells me. "This was at a time when Cubans were perfectly
free to leave the country with all their property. In the 1940s and
1950s, my parents could get a visa for the United States just by asking.
They visited the United States and voluntarily returned to Cuba. More
Cubans vacationed in the U.S. in 1955 than Americans vacationed in Cuba.
Americans considered Cuba a tourist playground, but even more Cubans
considered the U.S. a tourist playground." Havana was home to a lot of
that prosperity, as is evident in the extraordinary classical European
architecture that still fills the city. Poor nations do not—cannot—build
such grand or elegant cities.
But rather than raise the poor up, Castro and Guevara shoved the rich
and the middle class down. The result was collapse. "Between 1960 and
1976," Cuzan says, "Cuba's per capita GNP in constant dollars declined
at an average annual rate of almost half a percent. The country thus has
the tragic distinction of being the only one in Latin America to have
experienced a drop in living standards over the period."
Communism destroyed Cuba's prosperity, but the country experienced
unprecedented pain and deprivation when Moscow cut off its subsidies
after the fall of the Soviet Union. Journalist and longtime Cuba
resident Mark Frank writes vividly about this period in his book Cuban
Revelations. "The lights were off more than they were on, and so too was
the water. . . . Food was scarce and other consumer goods almost
nonexistent. . . . Doctors set broken bones without anesthesia. . . .
Worm dung was the only fertilizer." He quotes a nurse who tells him that
Cubans "used to make hamburgers out of grapefruit rinds and banana
peels; we cleaned with lime and bitter orange and used the black powder
in batteries for hair dye and makeup." "It was a haunting time," Frank
wrote, "that still sends shivers down Cubans' collective spines."
By the 1990s, Cuba needed economic reform as much as a gunshot victim
needs an ambulance. Castro wasn't about to reform himself and his
ideology out of existence, but he had to open up at least a small piece
of the country to the global economy. So the Soviet subsidy was replaced
by vacationers, mostly from Europe and Latin America, who brought in
much-needed hard currency. Arriving foreigners weren't going to tolerate
receiving ration cards for food—as the locals do—so the island also
needed some restaurants. The regime thus allowed paladars—restaurants
inside private homes—to open, though no one from outside the family
could work in them. (That would be "exploitative.") Around the same
time, government-run "dollar stores" began selling imported and
relatively luxurious goods to non-Cubans. Thus was Cuba's
quasi-capitalist bubble created.
When the ailing Fidel Castro ceded power to his less doctrinaire younger
brother Raúl in 2008, the quasi-capitalist bubble expanded, but the
economy remains heavily socialist. In the United States, we have a
minimum wage; Cuba has a maximumwage—$20 a month for almost every job in
the country. (Professionals such as doctors and lawyers can make a
whopping $10 extra a month.) Sure, Cubans get "free" health care and
education, but as Cuban exile and Yale historian Carlos Eire says, "All
slave owners need to keep their slaves healthy and ensure that they have
the skills to perform their tasks."
Even employees inside the quasi-capitalist bubble don't get paid more.
The government contracts with Spanish companies such as Meliá
International to manage Havana's hotels. Before accepting its contract,
Meliá said that it wanted to pay workers a decent wage. The Cuban
government said fine, so the company pays $8–$10 an hour. But Meliá
doesn't pay its employees directly. Instead, the firm gives the
compensation to the government, which then pays the workers—but only
after pocketing most of the money. I asked several Cubans in my hotel if
that arrangement is really true. All confirmed that it is. The workers
don't get $8–$10 an hour; they get 67 cents a day—a child's allowance.
The maximum wage is just the beginning. Not only are most Cubans not
allowed to have money; they're hardly allowed to have things. The police
expend extraordinary manpower ensuring that everyone required to live
miserably at the bottom actually does live miserably at the bottom.
Dissident blogger and author Yoani Sánchez describes the harassment
sarcastically in her book Havana Real: "Buses are stopped in the middle
of the street and bags inspected to see if we are carrying some cheese,
a lobster, or some dangerous shrimp hidden among our personal
belongings." Perhaps the saddest symptom of Cuba's state-enforced
poverty is the prostitution epidemic—a problem the government officially
denies and even forbids foreign journalists based in Havana to mention.
Some Cuban prostitutes are professionals, but many are average
women—wives, girlfriends, sisters, mothers—who solicit johns once or
twice a year for a little extra money to make ends meet.
The government defends its maximum wage by arguing that life's
necessities are either free or so deeply subsidized in Cuba that
citizens don't need very much money. (Che Guevara and his sophomoric
hangers-on hoped to rid Cuba of money entirely, but couldn't quite pull
it off.) The free and subsidized goods and services, though, are as
dismal as everything else on the island. Citizens who take public
transportation to work—which includes almost everyone, since Cuba hardly
has any cars—must wait in lines for up to two hours each way to get on a
bus. And commuters must pay for their ride out of their $20 a month. At
least commuter buses are cheap. By contrast, a one-way ticket to the
other side of the island costs several months' pay; a round-trip costs
almost an annual salary.
As for the free health care, patients have to bring their own medicine,
their own bedsheets, and even their own iodine to the hospital. Most of
these items are available only on the illegal black market, moreover,
and must be paid for in hard currency—and sometimes they're not
available at all. Cuba has sent so many doctors abroad—especially to
Venezuela, in exchange for oil—that the island is now facing a personnel
shortage. "I don't want to say there are no doctors left," says an
American man who married a Cuban woman and has been back dozens of
times, "but the island is now almost empty. I saw a banner once, hanging
from somebody's balcony, that said, DO I NEED TO GO TO VENEZUELA FOR MY
HEADACHE?"
Housing is free, too, but so what? Americans can get houses in abandoned
parts of Detroit for only $500—which makes them practically free—but no
one wants to live in a crumbling house in a gone-to-the-weeds
neighborhood. I saw adequate housing in the Cuban countryside, but
almost everyone in Havana lives in a Detroit-style wreck, with caved-in
roofs, peeling paint, and doors hanging on their hinges at odd angles.
Education is free, and the country is effectively 100 percent literate,
thanks to Castro's campaign to teach rural people to read shortly after
he took power. But the regime has yet to make a persuasive argument that
a totalitarian police state was required to get the literacy rate from
80 percent to 100 percent. After all, almost every other country in the
Western Hemisphere managed the same feat at the same time, without the
brutal repression.
Cuba is short of everything but air and sunshine. In her book, Sánchez
describes an astonishing appearance by Raúl Castro on television, during
which he boasted that the economy was doing so well now that everyone
could drink milk. "To me," Sánchez wrote, "someone who grew up on a gulp
of orange-peel tea, the news seemed incredible." She never thought she'd
see the day. "I believed we would put a man on the moon, take first
place among all nations in the upcoming Olympics, or discover a vaccine
for AIDS before we would put the forgotten morning café con leche,
coffee with milk, within reach of every person on this island." And yet
Raúl's promise of milk for all was deleted from the transcription of the
speech in Granma, the Communist Party newspaper. He went too far: there
was not enough milk to ensure that everyone got some.
Even things as simple as cooking oil and soap are black-market goods.
Individuals who, by some illegal means or another, manage to acquire
such desirables will stand on street corners and whisper "cooking oil"
or "sugar" to passersby, and then sell the product on the sly out of
their living room. If they're caught, both sellers and buyers will be
arrested, of course, but the authorities can't put the entire country in
jail. "Everyone cheats," says Eire. "One must in order to survive. The
verb Ωto steal≈ has almost vanished from usage. Breaking the rules is
necessary. Resolví mi problema, which means 'I solved my problem,' is
the Cuban way of referring to stealing or cheating or selling on the
black market."
Cuba has two economies now: the national Communist economy for the
majority; and a quasi-capitalist one for foreigners and the elite. Each
has its own currency: the Communist economy uses the Cuban peso, and the
capitalist bubble uses the convertible peso. Cuban pesos are worth
nothing. They can't be converted to dollars or euros. Foreigners can't
even spend them in Cuba. The convertible pesos are pegged to the U.S.
dollar, but banks and hotels pay only 87 Cuban cents for each one—the
government takes 13 percent off the top. The rigged exchange rate is an
easy way to shake down foreigners without most noticing. It also enables
the state to drain Cuban exiles. A million Cuban-Americans live in south
Florida, and another half-million live elsewhere in the United States.
They send hundreds of millions of dollars a year to family members still
on the island. The government gets its 13 percent instantaneously and
most of the remaining 87 percent later because almost every place that
someone can spend the money is owned by the state.
Castro created the convertible peso mainly to seal off Cuba's little
capitalist bubble from the ragged majority in the Communist economy.
"Foreign journalists report on the creation of ever more luxurious
hotels, golf courses, and marinas," Eire says, "but fail to highlight
the very simple and brutal fact that these facilities will be enjoyed
strictly by foreigners and the Castronoid power elite. Apartheid,
discrimination, and segregation are deliberately built in to the entire
tourist industry and, in fact, are essential to its maintenance and
survival."
Until a few years ago, ordinary Cubans weren't allowed even to set foot
inside hotels or restaurants unless they worked there, lest they find
themselves exposed to the seductive lifestyles of the decadent
bourgeoisie from capitalist nations like Mexico, Chile, and Spain. (I
cite these three countries because most of the tourists I ran into spoke
Spanish to one another.) A few years ago, the government stopped
physically blocking Cubans from hotels and restaurants, partly because
Raúl is a little more relaxed about these things than Fidel but also
because most Cubans can't afford to go to these places, anyway.
A single restaurant meal in Havana costs an entire month's salary. One
night in a hotel costs five months' salary. A middle-class tourist from
abroad can easily spend more in one day than most Cubans make in a year.
I had dinner with four Americans at one of the paladars. The only Cubans
in the restaurant were the cooks and the waiters. The bill for the five
of us came to about $100. That's five months' salary.
The Floridita bar in downtown Havana was one of Ernest Hemingway's
hangouts when he lived there (from 1940 until 1960, the year after
Castro came to power). He was in the Floridita all the time—and, in a
way, he still is. There's a statue of him sitting on his favorite bar
stool, grinning at today's patrons. The décor is exactly the same, but
there's a big difference: everyone in the bar these days is a tourist.
Cubans aren't strictly banned any more, but a single bottle of beer
costs a week's salary. No one would blow his dismal paycheck on that.
If he were still around, Hemingway would be stunned to see what has
happened to his old haunt. Cubans certainly aren't happy about it, but
the tourists are another story—especially the world's remaining Marxoid
fellow travelers, who show up in Havana by the planeload. Such people
are clearly unteachable. I got into an argument with one at the
Floridita when I pointed out that none of the patrons were Cuban. "There
are places in the United States that some can't afford," she retorted.
Sure, but come on. Not even the poorest Americans have to pay a week's
wage for a beer.
Cubans in the hotel industry see how foreigners live. The government
can't hide it without shutting the hotels down entirely, and it can't do
that because it needs the money. I changed a few hundred American
dollars into convertible pesos at the front desk. The woman at the
counter didn't blink when I handed over my cash—she does this all
day—but when she first got the job, it must have been shattering to make
such an exchange. That's why the regime wants to keep foreigners and
locals apart.
Tourists tip waiters, taxi drivers, tour guides, and chambermaids in
hard currency, and to stave off a revolt from these people, the
government lets them keep the additional money, so they're "rich"
compared with everyone else. In fact, they're an elite class enjoying
privileges—enough income to afford a cell phone, go out to restaurants
and bars, log on to the Internet once in a while—that ordinary Cubans
can't even dream of. I asked a few people how much chambermaids earn in
tips, partly so that I would know how much to leave on my dresser and
also to get an idea of just how crazy Cuban economics are. Supposedly,
the maids get about $1 per day for each room. If they clean an average
of 30 rooms a day and work five days a week, they'll bring in $600 a
month—30 times what everyone else gets. "All animals are equal," George
Orwell wrote in Animal Farm, his allegory of Stalinism, "but some
animals are more equal than others." Only in the funhouse of a Communist
country is the cleaning lady rich compared with the lawyer. Yet elite
Cubans are impoverished compared with the middle class and even the poor
outside Cuba.
About half the dinners I had were acceptable, and a few were
outstanding, but the breakfast buffets in my hotel, the Habana Libre,
were uniformly disgusting. Bacon was half-raw, the sausage made from
God-knows-what. The cheese was discolored, the bread hard and
flavorless. Yet the grim offering was advertised in the lobby as
"exquisite." Maybe if you've spent your entire life on a Cuban ration
card, it's exquisite, but otherwise—no. The question wasn't what I
wanted to eat, but what I thought I could eat without my stomach rising
up in rebellion.
Leftists often talk about "food deserts" in Western cities, where the
poor supposedly lack options to buy affordable and nutritious food. If
they want to see a real food desert, they should come to Havana. I went
to a grocery store across the street from the exclusive Meliá Cohiba
Hotel, where the lucky few with access to hard currency shop to
supplement their meager state rations. The store was in what passes for
a mall in Havana—a cluttered concrete box, shabby compared even with
malls I've visited in Iraq. It carried rice, beans, frozen chicken,
milk, bottled water, booze, a small bit of cheese, minuscule amounts of
rancid-looking meat, some low-end cookies and chips from Brazil—and
that's it. No produce, cereal, no cans of soup, no pasta. A 7–11 has a
far better selection, and this is a place for Cuba's "rich" to shop. I
heard, but cannot confirm, that potatoes would not be available anywhere
in Cuba for another four months.
Shortly before I left Havana, I met a Cuban-American man and his wife
visiting from Miami. "Is this your first time here?" he asked. I nodded.
"What do you think?" I paused before answering. I wasn't worried that I
would offend him. He lives in Miami, so his opinions of Cuba are
probably little different from mine. But we were in a crowded place.
Plenty of Cubans could hear us, including the police. They wouldn't
arrest me if I insulted the government, but I didn't want to make a
scene, either. "Well," I finally said. "It's . . . interesting." He
belted out a great belly laugh, and I smiled. His wife scowled.
"I hate this place!" she near-shouted. Fidel himself could have heard,
and she wouldn't have cared. She wasn't going to be quiet about it.
Tourists who visit Cuba and spend all their time inside the bubble for
the "haves" could leave the country oblivious to the savage inequalities
and squalor beyond the hotel zone, but this woman visits her husband's
family in the real Cuba and knows what it's really like.
"His family is from here," she said, "but mine's not, and I will never
come back here. Not while it's like this. I feel like I'm in Iraq or
Afghanistan." I visited Iraq seven times during the war and didn't have
the heart to tell her that Baghdad, while ugly and dangerous, is vastly
freer and more prosperous these days than Havana. Anyway, Iraq is
precisely the kind of country with which Castro wants you to compare
Cuba. It's the wrong comparison. So are impoverished Third World
countries like Guatemala and Haiti. Cuba isn't a developing country;
it's a once-developed country destroyed by its own government. Havana
was a magnificent Western city once. It should be compared not with
Baghdad, Kabul, Guatemala City, or Port-au-Prince but with formerly
Communist Budapest, Prague, or Berlin. Havana's history mirrors theirs,
after all.
An advertisement in my hotel claimed that the Sierra Maestra restaurant
on the top floor is "probably" the best in Havana. I had saved the
Sierra Maestra for my last night and rode the elevator up to the 25th
floor. I had my first and only steak on the island and washed it down
with Chilean red wine. The tiny bill set me back no more than having a
pizza delivered at home would, but the total nevertheless exceeded an
entire month's local salary. Not surprisingly, I ate alone. Every other
table was empty. The staff waited on me as if I were the president of
some faraway minor republic.
I stared at the city below out the window as I sipped my red wine.
Havana looked like a glittering metropolis in the dark. Night washed
away the rot and the grime and revealed nothing but city lights. It
occurred to me that Havana will look mostly the same—at night,
anyway—after it is liberated from the tyrannical imbeciles who govern it
now. I tried to pretend that I was looking out on a Cuba that was
already free and that the tables around me were occupied—by local
people, not foreigners—but the fantasy faded fast. I was all alone at
the top of Cuba's Elysium and yearning for home—where capitalism's
inequalities are not so jagged and stark.
Michael J. Totten is a City Journal contributing editor and the author
of five books, including The Road to Fatima Gate.
**Previously published in City Journal. Spring 2014.
http://www.city-journal.org/2014/24_2_havana.html.
Source: Cuba Brief: The Last Communist City, A visit to the dystopian
Havana that tourists never see - Misceláneas de Cuba -
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/web/Article/Index/538c69383a682e061c811374#.U4yWPPmSwx4
El fraude académico vuelve a ocupar su espacio
El fraude académico vuelve a ocupar su espacio
[02-06-2014 13:57:41]
José Antonio Sánchez Santoyo
Periodista Independiente
La escalinata de la Universidad de la Habana. Foto: commons.wikimedia.org
(www.miscelaneasdecuba.net).- La Habana. En días pasados la prensa
oficialista cubana publicó el último escándalo que tiene como
protagonista la educación superior cubana, un fraude colosal que abarca
las pruebas de ingreso de la Universidad de la Habana.
Esto es sin duda un acto bochornoso y de carácter grave ya que se violan
principios de moral y ética, en ella están involucrados un grupo
indeterminado de profesores, padres y alumnos. No es de extrañar que así
sea ya que a lo largo del tiempo y desde la enseñanza primaria y
secundaria esos hechos son cotidianos, pues en una sociedad como ésta
carente de valores y de responsabilidad solo puede engendrar
comportamientos de esta magnitud.
La corrupción alcanza niveles astronómicos y ningún sector esta exento
de incurrir en la misma.
Estas paginas hace unos meses tocó el tema de la corrupción académica y
en ella se hacia mención de alumnos de la enseñanza primaria y
secundaria que se habían envuelto en hechos como estos, pero estos que
hoy se relatan a la vista pública son más alarmantes, pues la cuantía de
esos exámenes vendidos alcanzan cifras en el orden de los 500.00 c.u.c
por cada asignatura, siendo un negocio lucrativo para los profesores
involucrados.
No es un hecho aislado que esto sucedan, pero lo que sí es desastroso es
que aquellos que se esforzaron por hacer sus exámenes de ingreso hoy
tengan que repetirlo a consecuencia de la inescrupulosa actitud de estos
malhechores.
Tampoco es un secreto que la enseñanza en Cuba en todos sus niveles
dista mucho de tener la calidad que tanto se pregona.
Las instalaciones docentes están totalmente en mal estado y cada nuevo
curso escolar se le pasa la mano por arriba. Los materiales de estudio
también son objetos de lucro y el personal de servicios de las escuelas
se presta para poner aun más difícil las sabidas carencias que la
educación presenta.
¿Dónde están los lavamanos, tazas de inodoro, tubos de luz fría, DVD,
televisores, computadoras, bebederos, material docente, que se pierden
constantemente en las escuelas?
Muchos de esos objetos van a formar parte del producto que se venden en
el mercado negro y otros van a manos de los directivos de las escuelas
para su uso particular. Sin contar los problemas que estas ineficiencias
graves le traen a los alumnos, así que no es solo la venta de los
exámenes sino también la venta de los medios de educación. Es
verdaderamente alarmante la corrupción que existe en la educación,
producto del desinterés de ministros, directores y asesores que no
cumplen con la función que tienen la obligación de cumplir.
El colmo de la despreocupación, la falta de honradez y la pérdida total
de los principios que deben regir para que los hombres del mañana puedan
ser cultos y libres como lo soñó José Martí.
Y no es un secreto para nadie que hasta los infantes que acuden a los
círculos infantiles también son víctimas de esa práctica corruptiva ya
que según fuentes cercanas a este reportero se roban los alimentos y
materiales de enseñanza por parte de la empleo manía.
¿A dónde vamos a parar?
Tenía yo razón en artículos anteriores refiriéndome a la corrupción.
Esto da la medida de que sea un secreto a voces.
Vaya que de todo existe en esta viña.
Sin embargo fui reprimido en el entonces por la policía política del
régimen por la opinión tan certera que perjudica a los ciudadanos cubanos.
¿Y ahora Que? Punto.
La voz de la frontera en expansión.
Source: El fraude académico vuelve a ocupar su espacio - Misceláneas de
Cuba -
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/web/Article/Index/538c66b53a682e061c811372#.U4yXk_mSwx4
[02-06-2014 13:57:41]
José Antonio Sánchez Santoyo
Periodista Independiente
La escalinata de la Universidad de la Habana. Foto: commons.wikimedia.org
(www.miscelaneasdecuba.net).- La Habana. En días pasados la prensa
oficialista cubana publicó el último escándalo que tiene como
protagonista la educación superior cubana, un fraude colosal que abarca
las pruebas de ingreso de la Universidad de la Habana.
Esto es sin duda un acto bochornoso y de carácter grave ya que se violan
principios de moral y ética, en ella están involucrados un grupo
indeterminado de profesores, padres y alumnos. No es de extrañar que así
sea ya que a lo largo del tiempo y desde la enseñanza primaria y
secundaria esos hechos son cotidianos, pues en una sociedad como ésta
carente de valores y de responsabilidad solo puede engendrar
comportamientos de esta magnitud.
La corrupción alcanza niveles astronómicos y ningún sector esta exento
de incurrir en la misma.
Estas paginas hace unos meses tocó el tema de la corrupción académica y
en ella se hacia mención de alumnos de la enseñanza primaria y
secundaria que se habían envuelto en hechos como estos, pero estos que
hoy se relatan a la vista pública son más alarmantes, pues la cuantía de
esos exámenes vendidos alcanzan cifras en el orden de los 500.00 c.u.c
por cada asignatura, siendo un negocio lucrativo para los profesores
involucrados.
No es un hecho aislado que esto sucedan, pero lo que sí es desastroso es
que aquellos que se esforzaron por hacer sus exámenes de ingreso hoy
tengan que repetirlo a consecuencia de la inescrupulosa actitud de estos
malhechores.
Tampoco es un secreto que la enseñanza en Cuba en todos sus niveles
dista mucho de tener la calidad que tanto se pregona.
Las instalaciones docentes están totalmente en mal estado y cada nuevo
curso escolar se le pasa la mano por arriba. Los materiales de estudio
también son objetos de lucro y el personal de servicios de las escuelas
se presta para poner aun más difícil las sabidas carencias que la
educación presenta.
¿Dónde están los lavamanos, tazas de inodoro, tubos de luz fría, DVD,
televisores, computadoras, bebederos, material docente, que se pierden
constantemente en las escuelas?
Muchos de esos objetos van a formar parte del producto que se venden en
el mercado negro y otros van a manos de los directivos de las escuelas
para su uso particular. Sin contar los problemas que estas ineficiencias
graves le traen a los alumnos, así que no es solo la venta de los
exámenes sino también la venta de los medios de educación. Es
verdaderamente alarmante la corrupción que existe en la educación,
producto del desinterés de ministros, directores y asesores que no
cumplen con la función que tienen la obligación de cumplir.
El colmo de la despreocupación, la falta de honradez y la pérdida total
de los principios que deben regir para que los hombres del mañana puedan
ser cultos y libres como lo soñó José Martí.
Y no es un secreto para nadie que hasta los infantes que acuden a los
círculos infantiles también son víctimas de esa práctica corruptiva ya
que según fuentes cercanas a este reportero se roban los alimentos y
materiales de enseñanza por parte de la empleo manía.
¿A dónde vamos a parar?
Tenía yo razón en artículos anteriores refiriéndome a la corrupción.
Esto da la medida de que sea un secreto a voces.
Vaya que de todo existe en esta viña.
Sin embargo fui reprimido en el entonces por la policía política del
régimen por la opinión tan certera que perjudica a los ciudadanos cubanos.
¿Y ahora Que? Punto.
La voz de la frontera en expansión.
Source: El fraude académico vuelve a ocupar su espacio - Misceláneas de
Cuba -
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/web/Article/Index/538c66b53a682e061c811372#.U4yXk_mSwx4
La democracia no es una panacea
La democracia no es una panacea
[02-06-2014 14:03:48]
Alberto Medina Méndez
(www.miscelaneasdecuba.net).- Algunos dogmas se han pretendido instalar
como certezas indiscutibles. En estas últimas décadas, con la
implementación de las democracias como sistema de gobierno en gran parte
del planeta, se ha endiosado a una herramienta de convivencia social, al
punto de siquiera poder cuestionarla.
La búsqueda de la verdad, la necesidad de explicar fenómenos sociales,
precisa de una actitud de permanente revisión, de crítica constante, ya
no para descartar sistemas, sino justamente para perfeccionarlos.
No existen dudas de que la democracia ha traído consigo un sinnúmero de
progresos y que pese a sus irrefutables defectos, ha sido capaz de
contribuir a una vida en armonía, con respeto y tolerancia.
Pero es igualmente real que su instrumentación tiene matices y que
algunas sociedades han sucumbido bajo sus principales paradigmas
involucionando y hasta en casos extremos, siendo conducidos a excesos
inaceptables, promoviendo el odio y los genocidios, de la mano de la
voluntad de los más.
No se trata de condenar a la democracia como sistema, pero tampoco de
convertirla en la panacea, en ese remedio que resuelve cualquier
problema. Resulta por ello indispensable analizar lo que ocurre,
justamente para rescatar sus atributos positivos e individualizar
aquellos aspectos específicos que solo deforman el objetivo. Toda
sociedad sensata aspira a vivir en paz, bajo el paraguas del consenso y
no de la confrontación.
Probablemente los países que mejores experiencias pueden mostrar son
aquellos en los que la democracia está subordinada a la república, dicho
de otro modo, en los que la voluntad de las mayorías expresada en las
urnas está condicionada por la división de poderes y por una norma
constitucional que fija los límites a la concentración y al abuso de poder.
La democracia puede ser un genuino medio para lograr un loable fin, pero
canonizarla y colocarla en un pedestal convirtiéndola en el objetivo
central de una sociedad, es extremadamente riesgoso.
Muchas naciones vienen transitando ese ambiguo sendero que les ha hecho
perder mucho de calidad, al intentar que un sistema que ha sido pensado
como un método eficiente para encontrar acuerdos y como forma de
resolver conflictos, se convierta en el mecanismo que genere
enfrentamientos invitando a la dinámica continua de la ruptura.
Tal vez esta exageración conceptual, ha empujado a que los actores
políticos sientan que en democracia todo vale, que lo que importa son
los votos, el poder y quien lo administra. Parecen haber olvidado las
razones vitales que llevaron a impulsar sistemas de este tipo, que
ayudan a solucionar inconvenientes de un modo amigable y pacifico.
La innegable prosperidad ordenada de algunas comunidades que no se rigen
por la democracia tal cual se la conoce tradicionalmente, obligan a
preguntarse por lo que viene sucediendo en el mundo.
No se trata de abandonar el sistema democrático como forma de
ordenamiento social. No se puede hacer caso omiso a sus imperfecciones
evidentes. Es peligroso caer en la trampa de no cuestionarlo para no
perjudicarlo. Se conspira contra la democracia cuando se evitar
revisarla, cuando no se advierten sus contundentes desviaciones y cuando
se elige mirar a otro lado porque resulta políticamente incorrecto
hablar de ello.
A Winston Churchill se le atribuye aquella frase de que "la democracia
es el peor sistema de gobierno diseñado por el hombre, excepto todos los
demás". Tal vez sea esto brutalmente cierto, pero no menos verdadero es
que todos los sistemas merecen ser revisados y, en lo posible, mejorados.
Sin embargo, pocos políticos se atreven si quiera a proponer cambios. Es
probable que eso tenga que ver con que muchos de ellos son parte de ese
defectuoso régimen que les permite liderar el presente. Modificar
ciertas cuestiones podría atentar contra la base de su elemental poder
personal.
Es posible que a los políticos no les interese mejorar el sistema. Lo
que es indudable es que la sociedad observa con claridad todo lo
negativo de un sistema que debería garantizar óptimos resultados y que
hoy se deteriora día a día, bajo la mirada cómplice de la clase política
y con la imprescindible resignación de una ciudadanía que percibiendo
los problemas, prefiere resignarse, bajar los brazos, arriesgando
demasiado de lo logrado.
Si la democracia no es reformulada y corregida puede extinguirse. El
desprecio ciudadano por la actividad política es creciente en diferentes
lugares del mundo. Atribuir ese desprestigio solo a ciertos sectores de
la dirigencia política, es decidir deliberadamente ignorar las raíces
profundas del problema y perder la brillante e irrepetible oportunidad
de quitar las ramas que impiden que el árbol siga creciendo fuerte y solido.
Los políticos parecen inclinarse por el camino de hacerse los
distraídos, tal vez porque de esa manera la pasan mejor en el corto
plazo y siguen aprovechando las grietas que ofrece el actual esquema que
les posibilita llevar adelante sus controvertidas prácticas. La gente ya
se dio cuenta hace tiempo. Solo no encontró, aún, el modo de ponerlos en
su lugar, de fijarle límites y de incitarlos a hacer esos cambios que el
sistema precisa para evolucionar. La sociedad ya sabe que la democracia
no es una panacea.
Source: La democracia no es una panacea - Misceláneas de Cuba -
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/web/Article/Index/538c68243a682e061c811373#.U4yXlfmSwx4
[02-06-2014 14:03:48]
Alberto Medina Méndez
(www.miscelaneasdecuba.net).- Algunos dogmas se han pretendido instalar
como certezas indiscutibles. En estas últimas décadas, con la
implementación de las democracias como sistema de gobierno en gran parte
del planeta, se ha endiosado a una herramienta de convivencia social, al
punto de siquiera poder cuestionarla.
La búsqueda de la verdad, la necesidad de explicar fenómenos sociales,
precisa de una actitud de permanente revisión, de crítica constante, ya
no para descartar sistemas, sino justamente para perfeccionarlos.
No existen dudas de que la democracia ha traído consigo un sinnúmero de
progresos y que pese a sus irrefutables defectos, ha sido capaz de
contribuir a una vida en armonía, con respeto y tolerancia.
Pero es igualmente real que su instrumentación tiene matices y que
algunas sociedades han sucumbido bajo sus principales paradigmas
involucionando y hasta en casos extremos, siendo conducidos a excesos
inaceptables, promoviendo el odio y los genocidios, de la mano de la
voluntad de los más.
No se trata de condenar a la democracia como sistema, pero tampoco de
convertirla en la panacea, en ese remedio que resuelve cualquier
problema. Resulta por ello indispensable analizar lo que ocurre,
justamente para rescatar sus atributos positivos e individualizar
aquellos aspectos específicos que solo deforman el objetivo. Toda
sociedad sensata aspira a vivir en paz, bajo el paraguas del consenso y
no de la confrontación.
Probablemente los países que mejores experiencias pueden mostrar son
aquellos en los que la democracia está subordinada a la república, dicho
de otro modo, en los que la voluntad de las mayorías expresada en las
urnas está condicionada por la división de poderes y por una norma
constitucional que fija los límites a la concentración y al abuso de poder.
La democracia puede ser un genuino medio para lograr un loable fin, pero
canonizarla y colocarla en un pedestal convirtiéndola en el objetivo
central de una sociedad, es extremadamente riesgoso.
Muchas naciones vienen transitando ese ambiguo sendero que les ha hecho
perder mucho de calidad, al intentar que un sistema que ha sido pensado
como un método eficiente para encontrar acuerdos y como forma de
resolver conflictos, se convierta en el mecanismo que genere
enfrentamientos invitando a la dinámica continua de la ruptura.
Tal vez esta exageración conceptual, ha empujado a que los actores
políticos sientan que en democracia todo vale, que lo que importa son
los votos, el poder y quien lo administra. Parecen haber olvidado las
razones vitales que llevaron a impulsar sistemas de este tipo, que
ayudan a solucionar inconvenientes de un modo amigable y pacifico.
La innegable prosperidad ordenada de algunas comunidades que no se rigen
por la democracia tal cual se la conoce tradicionalmente, obligan a
preguntarse por lo que viene sucediendo en el mundo.
No se trata de abandonar el sistema democrático como forma de
ordenamiento social. No se puede hacer caso omiso a sus imperfecciones
evidentes. Es peligroso caer en la trampa de no cuestionarlo para no
perjudicarlo. Se conspira contra la democracia cuando se evitar
revisarla, cuando no se advierten sus contundentes desviaciones y cuando
se elige mirar a otro lado porque resulta políticamente incorrecto
hablar de ello.
A Winston Churchill se le atribuye aquella frase de que "la democracia
es el peor sistema de gobierno diseñado por el hombre, excepto todos los
demás". Tal vez sea esto brutalmente cierto, pero no menos verdadero es
que todos los sistemas merecen ser revisados y, en lo posible, mejorados.
Sin embargo, pocos políticos se atreven si quiera a proponer cambios. Es
probable que eso tenga que ver con que muchos de ellos son parte de ese
defectuoso régimen que les permite liderar el presente. Modificar
ciertas cuestiones podría atentar contra la base de su elemental poder
personal.
Es posible que a los políticos no les interese mejorar el sistema. Lo
que es indudable es que la sociedad observa con claridad todo lo
negativo de un sistema que debería garantizar óptimos resultados y que
hoy se deteriora día a día, bajo la mirada cómplice de la clase política
y con la imprescindible resignación de una ciudadanía que percibiendo
los problemas, prefiere resignarse, bajar los brazos, arriesgando
demasiado de lo logrado.
Si la democracia no es reformulada y corregida puede extinguirse. El
desprecio ciudadano por la actividad política es creciente en diferentes
lugares del mundo. Atribuir ese desprestigio solo a ciertos sectores de
la dirigencia política, es decidir deliberadamente ignorar las raíces
profundas del problema y perder la brillante e irrepetible oportunidad
de quitar las ramas que impiden que el árbol siga creciendo fuerte y solido.
Los políticos parecen inclinarse por el camino de hacerse los
distraídos, tal vez porque de esa manera la pasan mejor en el corto
plazo y siguen aprovechando las grietas que ofrece el actual esquema que
les posibilita llevar adelante sus controvertidas prácticas. La gente ya
se dio cuenta hace tiempo. Solo no encontró, aún, el modo de ponerlos en
su lugar, de fijarle límites y de incitarlos a hacer esos cambios que el
sistema precisa para evolucionar. La sociedad ya sabe que la democracia
no es una panacea.
Source: La democracia no es una panacea - Misceláneas de Cuba -
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/web/Article/Index/538c68243a682e061c811373#.U4yXlfmSwx4
La famosa carta
La famosa carta
[02-06-2014 14:17:08]
Marta Menor
Presidenta de Cultivamos una Rosa Blanca
(www.miscelaneasdecuba.net).- Tema: Una carta/petición enviada al
Presidente de los Estados Unidos.
* La carta solicita al Presidente de los EEUU que use su poder ejecutivo
e ignore una Ley aprobada por el Congreso con el fin de crear ciertas
condiciones económicas en un país extranjero. (Ver mi artículo: Mr
President, tell Congress be damned)
* El pedir que el ejecutivo use su poder ignorando al legislativo son
precedentes muy peligrosos. Así es cómo un pueblo va perdiendo sus
derechos y se crean caudillos. En este caso se podría argumentar que
también es una falta de respeto a cubanos electos a sillas congresionales
* La carta dice que el tiempo apremia.
* El tiempo es crítico porque se teme que el balance del poder
legislativo cambie en las próximas elecciones, pero no porque el pueblo
cubano ya no puede sufrir más.
* La petición se hace un momento crítico para un régimen que le ha
negado todo derecho habido y por haber al pueblo por más de cinco décadas.
* Debido a este momento crítico, el régimen es receptivo a oportunidades
económicas que le permitan mantener el poder.
* La carta no es para que el poder ejecutivo tome una posición de
defender los derechos de un pueblo a elegir cómo quiere vivir y ser
gobernado, sino enfatiza la venta de equipos de
telecomunicaciones en Cuba, incluyendo las torres de celulares, antenas
parabólicas y teléfonos; licencias generales de
viaje para la investigación, la comercialización y la venta de equipos
de telecomunicaciones; intercambio de estudios agrícolas entre las
organizaciones no gubernamentales con sede en EE.UU. y granjas
cooperativas privadas en Cuba.
*Los primeros que se beneficiarian económicamente de esas ventas y
condiciones serían firmantes de la carta ya que sus propias empresas
pueden ser principales proveedores.
* Los resultados de esas inversiones no son garantizadas pero los
beneficios económicos iniciales para los envueltos son reales y
productivos aunque riesgosos.
* La carta no proponee ninguna condición para crear esas oportunidades
económicas ni tampoco presenta un plan de implementación de las
mismas. Es una petición de contrato en blanco: confien en nosotros que
sabemos lo que estamos haciendo.
* Podemos asumir que algunos de los firmantes, sobre todo los que no son
cubanos, dado las posiciones que el destino les ha deparado, no están
identificados con las penurias del pueblo cubano ni tampoco han
materializado lo que significa vivir bajo el terror de una tirania por
más de cincuenta años. ¿Antenas parabólicas? pregúntele al cubano de a
pie si es eso lo que quiere.
*La carta, divide a los cubanos y regocija al régimen comunista cubano.
Combinación fatal para el éxito.
Concluyendo: si queremos tratar de mejorar el sistema de vida del pueblo
cubano, antes de buscar firmas impresionantes de personalidades,
empecemos primero por sentarnos a discutir entre cubanos, formular una
estrategia en dos frentes: económico y civil y luego presentarlas en
carta abierta al régimen castrista.
Entonces podremos apreciar si de verdad están interesados en esas tan
cacareadas aperturas, o solo es una fachada cosmética para recibir el
oxígeno económico que necesitan y poder seguir en el poder expandiendo
su ideología al resto del continente. Ese será el momento de dialogar
con el Congreso de Estados Unidos respetando la constitución del pais y
pidiendor que actúe de acuerdo a la respuesta del régimen.
Source: La famosa carta - Misceláneas de Cuba -
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/web/Article/Index/538c6b443a682e061c811375#.U4yXl_mSwx4
[02-06-2014 14:17:08]
Marta Menor
Presidenta de Cultivamos una Rosa Blanca
(www.miscelaneasdecuba.net).- Tema: Una carta/petición enviada al
Presidente de los Estados Unidos.
* La carta solicita al Presidente de los EEUU que use su poder ejecutivo
e ignore una Ley aprobada por el Congreso con el fin de crear ciertas
condiciones económicas en un país extranjero. (Ver mi artículo: Mr
President, tell Congress be damned)
* El pedir que el ejecutivo use su poder ignorando al legislativo son
precedentes muy peligrosos. Así es cómo un pueblo va perdiendo sus
derechos y se crean caudillos. En este caso se podría argumentar que
también es una falta de respeto a cubanos electos a sillas congresionales
* La carta dice que el tiempo apremia.
* El tiempo es crítico porque se teme que el balance del poder
legislativo cambie en las próximas elecciones, pero no porque el pueblo
cubano ya no puede sufrir más.
* La petición se hace un momento crítico para un régimen que le ha
negado todo derecho habido y por haber al pueblo por más de cinco décadas.
* Debido a este momento crítico, el régimen es receptivo a oportunidades
económicas que le permitan mantener el poder.
* La carta no es para que el poder ejecutivo tome una posición de
defender los derechos de un pueblo a elegir cómo quiere vivir y ser
gobernado, sino enfatiza la venta de equipos de
telecomunicaciones en Cuba, incluyendo las torres de celulares, antenas
parabólicas y teléfonos; licencias generales de
viaje para la investigación, la comercialización y la venta de equipos
de telecomunicaciones; intercambio de estudios agrícolas entre las
organizaciones no gubernamentales con sede en EE.UU. y granjas
cooperativas privadas en Cuba.
*Los primeros que se beneficiarian económicamente de esas ventas y
condiciones serían firmantes de la carta ya que sus propias empresas
pueden ser principales proveedores.
* Los resultados de esas inversiones no son garantizadas pero los
beneficios económicos iniciales para los envueltos son reales y
productivos aunque riesgosos.
* La carta no proponee ninguna condición para crear esas oportunidades
económicas ni tampoco presenta un plan de implementación de las
mismas. Es una petición de contrato en blanco: confien en nosotros que
sabemos lo que estamos haciendo.
* Podemos asumir que algunos de los firmantes, sobre todo los que no son
cubanos, dado las posiciones que el destino les ha deparado, no están
identificados con las penurias del pueblo cubano ni tampoco han
materializado lo que significa vivir bajo el terror de una tirania por
más de cincuenta años. ¿Antenas parabólicas? pregúntele al cubano de a
pie si es eso lo que quiere.
*La carta, divide a los cubanos y regocija al régimen comunista cubano.
Combinación fatal para el éxito.
Concluyendo: si queremos tratar de mejorar el sistema de vida del pueblo
cubano, antes de buscar firmas impresionantes de personalidades,
empecemos primero por sentarnos a discutir entre cubanos, formular una
estrategia en dos frentes: económico y civil y luego presentarlas en
carta abierta al régimen castrista.
Entonces podremos apreciar si de verdad están interesados en esas tan
cacareadas aperturas, o solo es una fachada cosmética para recibir el
oxígeno económico que necesitan y poder seguir en el poder expandiendo
su ideología al resto del continente. Ese será el momento de dialogar
con el Congreso de Estados Unidos respetando la constitución del pais y
pidiendor que actúe de acuerdo a la respuesta del régimen.
Source: La famosa carta - Misceláneas de Cuba -
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/web/Article/Index/538c6b443a682e061c811375#.U4yXl_mSwx4
Disidentes denuncian 1.120 arrestos en mayo, 'una de las cifras más altas de las últimas décadas'
REPRESIÓN
Disidentes denuncian 1.120 arrestos en mayo, 'una de las cifras más
altas de las últimas décadas'
DDC | La Habana | 2 Jun 2014 - 12:55 pm.
En lo que va de 2014, el régimen ha superado la cifra de detenciones de
opositores de todo 2010, cuando se registraron 2.074, y todo 2011,
cuando la CCDHRN reportó 4.123.
El régimen practicó 1.120 "detenciones por motivos políticos" en mayo,
"una de las cifras más altas de las últimas décadas", denuncia en su
informe mensual sobre represión la Comisión Cubana de Derechos Humanos y
Reconciliación Nacional (CCDHRN).
Advierte que alrededor de diez activistas siguen en manos de las
autoridades, han sido enviados "a prisiones de alta seguridad" y están
"sujetos a proceso" judicial.
"El Gobierno de Cuba, que ha entrado ya en su año 56 ejerciendo el poder
con mano de hierro, continúa criminalizando el ejercicio de todos los
derechos civiles y políticos y otros derechos fundamentales", dice la
CCDHRN, que encabeza el veterano opositor Elizardo Sánchez.
Alerta, como ha hecho en los meses anteriores, de "un aumento de la
violencia represiva contra los ciudadanos que se atreven a disentir
públicamente".
Como ejemplo, menciona el caso de Guillermo Fariñas, premio Sajarov del
Parlamento Europeo, "a quien han detenido cada lunes de las últimas 19
semanas, y sometido, cada vez, al procedimiento de la tortura mediante
hipotermia artificial, además de a golpizas y vejámenes", señala.
"Para colmo, este sábado 31 de mayo, alrededor de la medianoche, fue
virtualmente amenazado de muerte, en presencia de testigos, por un alto
oficial de la policía política secreta del Ministerio del Interior",
dice la organización.
"Fui amenazado de muerte por teniente coronel de Seguridad Estado en la
puerta de la casa subsede FANTU-UNPACU, si salgo el próximo lunes",
afirma por su parte Fariñas en su cuenta en Twitter.
"Las señales que sigue emitiendo el Gobierno de Cuba son desalentadoras
en cuanto a la posibilidad de que respete, al menos a corto plazo, los
estándares internacionales en materia de derechos humanos y cumpla a
cabalidad lo establecido en la Constitución y otras relevantes leyes
nacionales", indica la CCDHRN.
Desde 2010, la cifra de 1.120 arrestos ha sido superada solo dos veces:
En marzo de 2012, el régimen detuvo a 1.158 opositores. Buena parte de
esos arrestos coincidió con la visita a la Isla del papa Benedicto XVI.
En diciembre de 2013 fueron detenidos 1.123 activistas. Algunos de ellos
planeaban asistir a actividades por el Día de los Derechos Humanos.
En solo cinco meses transcurridos de 2014, el régimen ha realizado 4.941
detenciones de opositores, más que las practicadas en todo 2010, cuando
se registraron 2.074, y todo 2011, cuando la CCDHRN reportó 4.123.
Source: Disidentes denuncian 1.120 arrestos en mayo, 'una de las cifras
más altas de las últimas décadas' | Diario de Cuba -
http://www.diariodecuba.com/derechos-humanos/1401706547_8851.html
Disidentes denuncian 1.120 arrestos en mayo, 'una de las cifras más
altas de las últimas décadas'
DDC | La Habana | 2 Jun 2014 - 12:55 pm.
En lo que va de 2014, el régimen ha superado la cifra de detenciones de
opositores de todo 2010, cuando se registraron 2.074, y todo 2011,
cuando la CCDHRN reportó 4.123.
El régimen practicó 1.120 "detenciones por motivos políticos" en mayo,
"una de las cifras más altas de las últimas décadas", denuncia en su
informe mensual sobre represión la Comisión Cubana de Derechos Humanos y
Reconciliación Nacional (CCDHRN).
Advierte que alrededor de diez activistas siguen en manos de las
autoridades, han sido enviados "a prisiones de alta seguridad" y están
"sujetos a proceso" judicial.
"El Gobierno de Cuba, que ha entrado ya en su año 56 ejerciendo el poder
con mano de hierro, continúa criminalizando el ejercicio de todos los
derechos civiles y políticos y otros derechos fundamentales", dice la
CCDHRN, que encabeza el veterano opositor Elizardo Sánchez.
Alerta, como ha hecho en los meses anteriores, de "un aumento de la
violencia represiva contra los ciudadanos que se atreven a disentir
públicamente".
Como ejemplo, menciona el caso de Guillermo Fariñas, premio Sajarov del
Parlamento Europeo, "a quien han detenido cada lunes de las últimas 19
semanas, y sometido, cada vez, al procedimiento de la tortura mediante
hipotermia artificial, además de a golpizas y vejámenes", señala.
"Para colmo, este sábado 31 de mayo, alrededor de la medianoche, fue
virtualmente amenazado de muerte, en presencia de testigos, por un alto
oficial de la policía política secreta del Ministerio del Interior",
dice la organización.
"Fui amenazado de muerte por teniente coronel de Seguridad Estado en la
puerta de la casa subsede FANTU-UNPACU, si salgo el próximo lunes",
afirma por su parte Fariñas en su cuenta en Twitter.
"Las señales que sigue emitiendo el Gobierno de Cuba son desalentadoras
en cuanto a la posibilidad de que respete, al menos a corto plazo, los
estándares internacionales en materia de derechos humanos y cumpla a
cabalidad lo establecido en la Constitución y otras relevantes leyes
nacionales", indica la CCDHRN.
Desde 2010, la cifra de 1.120 arrestos ha sido superada solo dos veces:
En marzo de 2012, el régimen detuvo a 1.158 opositores. Buena parte de
esos arrestos coincidió con la visita a la Isla del papa Benedicto XVI.
En diciembre de 2013 fueron detenidos 1.123 activistas. Algunos de ellos
planeaban asistir a actividades por el Día de los Derechos Humanos.
En solo cinco meses transcurridos de 2014, el régimen ha realizado 4.941
detenciones de opositores, más que las practicadas en todo 2010, cuando
se registraron 2.074, y todo 2011, cuando la CCDHRN reportó 4.123.
Source: Disidentes denuncian 1.120 arrestos en mayo, 'una de las cifras
más altas de las últimas décadas' | Diario de Cuba -
http://www.diariodecuba.com/derechos-humanos/1401706547_8851.html
1120 detenciones arbitrarias en Cuba
1120 detenciones arbitrarias en Cuba
[02-06-2014 11:03:38]
Elizardo Sánchez Santacruz
Portavoz de la Comisión Cubana de Derechos Humanos y Reconciliación Nacional
(www.miscelaneasdecuba.net).- La Comisión Cubana de Derechos Humanos y
Reconciliación Nacional informa que en el mes de mayo se registraron
1120 arrestos y detenciones arbitrarias. Lea el informe íntegro aquí:
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/ckfinder/userfiles/files/OVERVIEW%20MAYO%202014.pdf
Source: 1120 detenciones arbitrarias en Cuba - Misceláneas de Cuba -
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/web/Article/Index/538c3dea3a682e1118caa572#.U4xU1fmSwx4
[02-06-2014 11:03:38]
Elizardo Sánchez Santacruz
Portavoz de la Comisión Cubana de Derechos Humanos y Reconciliación Nacional
(www.miscelaneasdecuba.net).- La Comisión Cubana de Derechos Humanos y
Reconciliación Nacional informa que en el mes de mayo se registraron
1120 arrestos y detenciones arbitrarias. Lea el informe íntegro aquí:
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/ckfinder/userfiles/files/OVERVIEW%20MAYO%202014.pdf
Source: 1120 detenciones arbitrarias en Cuba - Misceláneas de Cuba -
http://www.miscelaneasdecuba.net/web/Article/Index/538c3dea3a682e1118caa572#.U4xU1fmSwx4
A CUBAN BOXER'S JOURNEY
June 2, 2014
A CUBAN BOXER'S JOURNEY
By Brin-Jonathan Butler
"The president of Ecuador greets Fidel with the gift of a rare Galapagos
tortoise, informing the dictator that they can live to nearly 200 years.
Fidel accepts the pet, then turns to his aide and says: "That's the
problem with pets. You get attached to them and they die on you.
--Miami joke
My first trip to Havana was in February of 2000, in the midst of the
Elian Gonzalez fiasco. This time, what was referred to as "political
kiddie porn" entered into the civil war fought across 90 miles of ocean.
At the age of 5, Elian Gonzalez and his mother, along with 12 other
passengers, had left Cuba on a small aluminum boat. Tragically the
boat's faulty engine had died after they encountered a storm while
attempting to cross the Florida Straights. Only Gonzalez and two other
passengers managed to survive the journey -- they were discovered
floating at sea, and were saved by two fisherman. The fisherman handed
the survivors over to the US Coast Guard and all hell broke loose on
both sides of the Florida Straights. It turned out Elian's mother had
taken Elian from the boy's father in Cuba, without his knowledge or
permission. After some negotiation at the highest levels of government
in the US and Cuba, Elian would be sent back to Cuba in June. Elian was
yet another political feather in his cap for Fidel against the United
States.
On the flight over I was reading Pitching Around Fidel: A Journey Into
the Heart of Cuban Sport by S.L. Price. Each elite athlete profiled in
the book encountered the same, hopelessly impossible decision as every
other Cuban, only with a lot more money being offered to escape. Where
Teofilo Stevenson had rejected five million dollars in the 1970s, the
going rate offered to Felix Savon, Cuba's latest heavyweight destroyer,
was in the neighborhood of 20 million to defect to America and fight
Mike Tyson. Even the act of writing a book exploring the ambiguity of
that choice had caused Price to be banned from ever returning to Cuba.
"You have penetrated an impenetrable system," he was told by security
agents. The bombshell of the book was Cuban boxer Hector Vinent, a
two-time Olympic champion as Guillermo Rigondeaux was soon to become,
confessing to Price his desire to escape. No Cuban athlete, in Cuba, had
ever done this on the record before. Yet Vinent never managed to escape.
Maybe because he never tried in the first place was the only reason he
wasn't thrown in prison either. Instead, Vinent began to train children
to box at one of Cuba's oldest boxing gyms. Two days after my arrival, I
met Vinent at his gym where he earned less than $20 a month. He offered
to train me for six dollars a day under the table, some portion of which
was skimmed off the top by those who oversaw the gym.
Years later I had the opportunity of asking Price about what first drew
him to Cuba. Price looks like Jimmy Stewart and has the voice of Daniel
Stern narrating The Wonder Years. In manner and presence, his warmth and
generosity of spirit remind you a great deal of what foreigners love
about Americans. Yet Price shook his head and confessed if there was
anywhere in the world he could afford a second home, it would be in
Havana. He quoted a key scene in Lawrence of Arabia by way of explanation:
"'What is it, Major Lawrence, that attracts you personally to the
desert?' Lawrence answers him, 'It's … clean.' The thing about Cuba is
that it's dirty. It's not clean. And the relations between the families
in Miami and the families in Havana, the relations between the families
back and forth, they aren't clean. The relations between the people who
go back and forth between the two cities are not clean. It's dirty. And
I don't mean dirty like filthy or corrupt, although all that is there. I
mean it's gray. It's not black and white. It's not easy. You will go
there and all your preconceptions will be upset and if you're any kind
of human being you will allow them to be upset. There's no where on
earth like it."
When you first arrive in Cuba it's hard not to wonder what Shakespeare
would have done with a character like Fidel Castro. Then it doesn't take
long before you realize the better question is what Fidel Castro would
have done with Shakespeare. Guidebooks and legions of tourists warn you
that Cuba is frozen in time, but Cuba had been reeling for years. After
the collapse of the Soviet Union and their subsidies to Cuba, the choice
Teofilo Stevenson and Felix Savon had made rejecting millions had become
much harder for Hector Vinent. Fidel called this dire time in Cuba's
history a "special period." As blackouts and food shortages became
commonplace and desperation grew, Vinent's growing motivation to leave,
compared to champions past, reflected the new realities and concerns all
Cubans were confronted with.
In 2007, I met Rigondeaux at Gimnasio de Boxeo Rafael Trejo in Havana
not long after his first failed attempt at defecting in Brazil. At
Trejo, the outdoor gym where I returned nearly every year to train under
Hector Vinent, two or three vaguely sinister-looking old women guarded
the entrance from tourists. There were different sets of these old
women, but they always reminded me of the Macbeth witches. The women
were nestled up against a wall of photographs inventorying the great
Cuban champions Trejo has produced. While each boxer's face hanging on
display belonged to a former world or Olympic champion, you quickly
remembered that they were all even more famous on the island for
rejecting millions of dollars. Nothing drove the Cuban f-- you home more
to Americans than demonstrating that Cubans fought for something more
valuable than money. While the witches spoke about this information for
free, naturally there was a charge of a couple dollars to document any
of this fascinating legacy with your camera. If you had the money to
pay, lately you could document something else too. Over the last couple
years the wall of champions had become an even more exclusive club. More
athletes than at any other time since the Revolution had responded to
the siren song of the American Dream and risked everything, including
their own lives, to escape.
Past the entrance, the sun blazed down and there were rows and rows of
bleachers behind and in front of you. For warm-ups, the students raced
up and down the bleachers and their paces were as loud as an express New
York subway until the coaches whistled them on to the next task. Car
tires were set against an iron railing for boys to practice their
combinations, snapping their punches. In place of bags, sacks were hung
next to the tires. A tractor tire lay in the shade under the far side
bleachers where an instructor swung a sledge hammer over one shoulder
and then the other, plunging the hammer down and showing a kid the
proper technique of incorporating the entire body with each swing and
the mechanics of the weight transfer involved. The ring was the
centerpiece of the gym, its canvas blood- and sweat-stained with a
little neighborhood mud smeared here and there. There was a lucky child
who lived next door, on the second floor of his building, who routinely
spied with his friends on the action below from his window.
This last trip to Havana to train at Rafael Trejo, more than any other
I'd had, whispers of sympathy were everywhere across Havana for those
abandoning their lives in Cuba for an opportunity anywhere else. A
hushed referendum was building with each high-profile defection. Maybe
this was because it was also my first trip to Cuba since Castro had
stepped down from power with a mysterious illness, the illness itself an
official state secret. As usual, all the predictions of societal
collapse or popular uprising were false, yet everywhere citizens
nervously watched and waited. As with the rest of the world, all 11
million inhabitants on the island could feel the Castro brothers near
five-decade hold over Cuba coming to an end. Unlike the rest of the
world, however, few bothered to speculate as to what came next. They
knew full well who held the guns. They were not surprised riots never
ensued after Fidel stepped down. The prevailing sentiment remained the
sense that the treasure of their country continued to rust in the wrong
hands. The joke on Fidel Castro had always been that if Spanish lacked a
future tense the man who could give a speech for seven hours straight
would be silenced. What subject was there for him to discuss besides
promises? And now nobody was sure what the future promised.
Only a few months before, I had heard that the new captain of the Cuban
national team, since Savon had stepped down, two-time Olympic gold
medalist Guillermo Rigondeaux, had attempted to defect in Brazil with
teammate Erislandy Lara and had been arrested. This amounted to the
highest profile boxing defection in Cuban history, unavoidably
symbolizing a massive turning point in not just Cuban sport, but Cuban
society on the whole. Rigondeaux's attempt at escape had become an
international news item and a national soap opera regularly appearing on
Cuban television. Castro himself had personally spoken out in the state
newspaper calling Rigondeaux a traitor and "Judas" to his people. "They
have reached a point of no return as members of a Cuban boxing team,"
Castro wrote in Granma. "An athlete who abandons his team is like a
soldier who abandons his fellow troops in the middle of combat."
Compounding the significance and ambiguity of Rigondeaux's situation was
boxing legend Teofilo Stevenson, probably the second most famous Cuban
in the world for the fortune he turned down to leave, defending
Rigondeaux. "They are not traitors," Stevenson declared. "They slipped
up. People will understand. They've repented. It is a victory that they
have returned. Others did not."
While Jimmy Cannon once called boxing "the red light district of
sports," Rafael Trejo resided in what was formerly Cuba's most famous
red light district. One of the largest funeral processions in Cuban
history was for the notorious pimp Yarini Ponce de Leon, who was shot
dead in a duel in the area. In Old Havana, the street names that
pre-date the revolution offer a glimpse into the city's state of mind at
that time. You might have known someone who lived on the corner of Soul
and Bitterness, Solitude and Hope or Light and Avocado. When things
changed in Cuba, the names were changed as well, and new signs went up.
Ask for directions from a local today, though, and you're likely to hear
the old names. Those names meant something personal and not easily
forgotten to the people who lived on those streets. Avocado Street was
named for the avocado that grew in the garden of a convent. Hope Street
was named for a door in the city wall before it was torn down. Soul
Street refers to the loneliness of the street's position in the city.
Sometimes these streets lead to dead ends; others lead to the doorsteps
of cathedrals constructed with the explicit intention of turning music
into stone.
While guidebooks might tell you that time collapsed here, another theory
says that in Latin America, all of history co-exists at once. In 1958,
Graham Greene wrote, "To live in Havana was to live in a factory that
turned out human beauty on a conveyor-belt." Yet this beauty the people
of Cuba unquestionably possess walks hand-in-hand with their pain.
Whomever you might encounter in this place lacking the capacity to walk
or even stand for whatever reason will inevitably remain convinced they
can dance. When Castro was put on trial in 1953 and asked who was
intellectually responsible for his first attempt at insurrection, he
dropped the name of the poet Jose Marti. From what I'd seen of it, the
revolution's hold on Cubans looked less like poetry and more like the
term zugzwang from chess: You're forced to move, but the only moves you
can make will put you in a worse position. Cuba had become an entire
population of 11 million people with every iron in the fire doubling as
a finger in a dyke.
* * *
At Trejo one afternoon, I spotted someone out of the corner of my eye
while I was training with my coach, Hector Vinent.
"Mi madre," Hector whispered, dropping his hands slowly, looking in the
same direction as me. "It's him."
"Him?" I asked.
"Si," Hector confirmed, then repeated gravely, "El."
When any Cuban refers to Him in conversation, with little to no
information or context provided, it invariably refers to Fidel.
"Mi madre," Hector groaned.
"Como?" I asked. "Quien?" (Who?)
Hector remained frozen. It was 100 degrees out that afternoon training
in the open air of Rafael Treo. I nudged him, but Hector wasn't coming
to. I looked around us as the silence took hold. All the proud coaches
refused to look the problem straight-on, instead staring off from the
corners of their eyes at the entrance to the gym. A profoundly
disturbing thing you discover very quickly traveling in Cuba is that the
most dangerous person for Cubans isn't the police or even the secret
police, it's their neighbors. Anyone can report you for anything
"outside" the revolution. Even if you haven't done it yet. Hector
himself had been banned from boxing before he'd ever attempted escape.
So what was this?
Had Fidel died or was El paying a visit?
"It's him," Hector repeated, this time even softer, nodding in the
direction of the entrance. "This is very dangerous for us,"
"Como?" I asked. "Who?"
"Rigondeaux. There, hiding in the shadows."
All I could see was a child near the entrance.
"That's Rigondeaux? That child?"
"Claro," Hector grunted. "That child is 27 and perhaps the greatest
boxer Cuba has ever produced. Fidel has said he will never fight again.
He has nowhere to go. Anyone in sports can no longer be seen talking to
him. We could lose our jobs. You can talk to him."
It was as if a Cuban version of Mr. Kurtz had stepped out of his own
version Heart of Darkness to pop into the gym for a visit.
That day, back in 2007, the first time I was introduced to Guillermo
Rigondeaux Ortiz in Havana, the thing was, I had little way of knowing
who or what I was looking at. I had only seen Rigondeaux's face not
obscured by headgear once. The trouble that evening was that his face
was instead obscured by the photograph of Fidel he was holding aloft
after having been declared the victor of a tournament. All I saw now was
a solemn, 5-foot-5-inch kid, dressed in a Nike ball cap and jeans, with
a fake Versace shirt that had the sleeves ripped off.
Without realizing it I started toward Rigondeaux. As I approached him,
in the shade under the bleachers of the entrance to Rafael Trejo, my
first impression was that his was the saddest face I had ever seen on
the island. One of the few things not in short supply in Havana is
sadness. Rigondeaux's sadness distinguished him from his countrymen
nearly as much as his boxing pedigree.
I reached out a hand and introduced myself and he did what he could,
under the strained circumstances at the gym, to muster a smile. Up close
I noticed his right eye showed damage, slumping slightly from his left.
Rigondeaux's attempt at a polite smile betrayed the gold grill over his
front teeth for a brief moment as he took another drag of his Popular
cigarette.
"So where did you get that gold on your teeth?" I asked him.
Rigondeaux snickered, dropped his head and smirked, taking a last long
drag on his cigarette before flicking it on the ground and stamping it
out with his sneaker. "Oh you know, I melted down both my gold medals
into my mouth. I used to fight in this place …"
* * *
A Cuban Boxer's Journey: Guillermo Rigondeaux, from Castro's Traitor to
American Champion will be released on June 3.
Source: The price of defection for a talented Cuban boxer. |
SportsonEarth.com : Brin-Jonathan Butler Article -
http://www.sportsonearth.com/article/77478026/cuba-boxer-guillermo-rigondeaux-journey-defection-fidel-castro#!TAZMT
A CUBAN BOXER'S JOURNEY
By Brin-Jonathan Butler
"The president of Ecuador greets Fidel with the gift of a rare Galapagos
tortoise, informing the dictator that they can live to nearly 200 years.
Fidel accepts the pet, then turns to his aide and says: "That's the
problem with pets. You get attached to them and they die on you.
--Miami joke
My first trip to Havana was in February of 2000, in the midst of the
Elian Gonzalez fiasco. This time, what was referred to as "political
kiddie porn" entered into the civil war fought across 90 miles of ocean.
At the age of 5, Elian Gonzalez and his mother, along with 12 other
passengers, had left Cuba on a small aluminum boat. Tragically the
boat's faulty engine had died after they encountered a storm while
attempting to cross the Florida Straights. Only Gonzalez and two other
passengers managed to survive the journey -- they were discovered
floating at sea, and were saved by two fisherman. The fisherman handed
the survivors over to the US Coast Guard and all hell broke loose on
both sides of the Florida Straights. It turned out Elian's mother had
taken Elian from the boy's father in Cuba, without his knowledge or
permission. After some negotiation at the highest levels of government
in the US and Cuba, Elian would be sent back to Cuba in June. Elian was
yet another political feather in his cap for Fidel against the United
States.
On the flight over I was reading Pitching Around Fidel: A Journey Into
the Heart of Cuban Sport by S.L. Price. Each elite athlete profiled in
the book encountered the same, hopelessly impossible decision as every
other Cuban, only with a lot more money being offered to escape. Where
Teofilo Stevenson had rejected five million dollars in the 1970s, the
going rate offered to Felix Savon, Cuba's latest heavyweight destroyer,
was in the neighborhood of 20 million to defect to America and fight
Mike Tyson. Even the act of writing a book exploring the ambiguity of
that choice had caused Price to be banned from ever returning to Cuba.
"You have penetrated an impenetrable system," he was told by security
agents. The bombshell of the book was Cuban boxer Hector Vinent, a
two-time Olympic champion as Guillermo Rigondeaux was soon to become,
confessing to Price his desire to escape. No Cuban athlete, in Cuba, had
ever done this on the record before. Yet Vinent never managed to escape.
Maybe because he never tried in the first place was the only reason he
wasn't thrown in prison either. Instead, Vinent began to train children
to box at one of Cuba's oldest boxing gyms. Two days after my arrival, I
met Vinent at his gym where he earned less than $20 a month. He offered
to train me for six dollars a day under the table, some portion of which
was skimmed off the top by those who oversaw the gym.
Years later I had the opportunity of asking Price about what first drew
him to Cuba. Price looks like Jimmy Stewart and has the voice of Daniel
Stern narrating The Wonder Years. In manner and presence, his warmth and
generosity of spirit remind you a great deal of what foreigners love
about Americans. Yet Price shook his head and confessed if there was
anywhere in the world he could afford a second home, it would be in
Havana. He quoted a key scene in Lawrence of Arabia by way of explanation:
"'What is it, Major Lawrence, that attracts you personally to the
desert?' Lawrence answers him, 'It's … clean.' The thing about Cuba is
that it's dirty. It's not clean. And the relations between the families
in Miami and the families in Havana, the relations between the families
back and forth, they aren't clean. The relations between the people who
go back and forth between the two cities are not clean. It's dirty. And
I don't mean dirty like filthy or corrupt, although all that is there. I
mean it's gray. It's not black and white. It's not easy. You will go
there and all your preconceptions will be upset and if you're any kind
of human being you will allow them to be upset. There's no where on
earth like it."
When you first arrive in Cuba it's hard not to wonder what Shakespeare
would have done with a character like Fidel Castro. Then it doesn't take
long before you realize the better question is what Fidel Castro would
have done with Shakespeare. Guidebooks and legions of tourists warn you
that Cuba is frozen in time, but Cuba had been reeling for years. After
the collapse of the Soviet Union and their subsidies to Cuba, the choice
Teofilo Stevenson and Felix Savon had made rejecting millions had become
much harder for Hector Vinent. Fidel called this dire time in Cuba's
history a "special period." As blackouts and food shortages became
commonplace and desperation grew, Vinent's growing motivation to leave,
compared to champions past, reflected the new realities and concerns all
Cubans were confronted with.
In 2007, I met Rigondeaux at Gimnasio de Boxeo Rafael Trejo in Havana
not long after his first failed attempt at defecting in Brazil. At
Trejo, the outdoor gym where I returned nearly every year to train under
Hector Vinent, two or three vaguely sinister-looking old women guarded
the entrance from tourists. There were different sets of these old
women, but they always reminded me of the Macbeth witches. The women
were nestled up against a wall of photographs inventorying the great
Cuban champions Trejo has produced. While each boxer's face hanging on
display belonged to a former world or Olympic champion, you quickly
remembered that they were all even more famous on the island for
rejecting millions of dollars. Nothing drove the Cuban f-- you home more
to Americans than demonstrating that Cubans fought for something more
valuable than money. While the witches spoke about this information for
free, naturally there was a charge of a couple dollars to document any
of this fascinating legacy with your camera. If you had the money to
pay, lately you could document something else too. Over the last couple
years the wall of champions had become an even more exclusive club. More
athletes than at any other time since the Revolution had responded to
the siren song of the American Dream and risked everything, including
their own lives, to escape.
Past the entrance, the sun blazed down and there were rows and rows of
bleachers behind and in front of you. For warm-ups, the students raced
up and down the bleachers and their paces were as loud as an express New
York subway until the coaches whistled them on to the next task. Car
tires were set against an iron railing for boys to practice their
combinations, snapping their punches. In place of bags, sacks were hung
next to the tires. A tractor tire lay in the shade under the far side
bleachers where an instructor swung a sledge hammer over one shoulder
and then the other, plunging the hammer down and showing a kid the
proper technique of incorporating the entire body with each swing and
the mechanics of the weight transfer involved. The ring was the
centerpiece of the gym, its canvas blood- and sweat-stained with a
little neighborhood mud smeared here and there. There was a lucky child
who lived next door, on the second floor of his building, who routinely
spied with his friends on the action below from his window.
This last trip to Havana to train at Rafael Trejo, more than any other
I'd had, whispers of sympathy were everywhere across Havana for those
abandoning their lives in Cuba for an opportunity anywhere else. A
hushed referendum was building with each high-profile defection. Maybe
this was because it was also my first trip to Cuba since Castro had
stepped down from power with a mysterious illness, the illness itself an
official state secret. As usual, all the predictions of societal
collapse or popular uprising were false, yet everywhere citizens
nervously watched and waited. As with the rest of the world, all 11
million inhabitants on the island could feel the Castro brothers near
five-decade hold over Cuba coming to an end. Unlike the rest of the
world, however, few bothered to speculate as to what came next. They
knew full well who held the guns. They were not surprised riots never
ensued after Fidel stepped down. The prevailing sentiment remained the
sense that the treasure of their country continued to rust in the wrong
hands. The joke on Fidel Castro had always been that if Spanish lacked a
future tense the man who could give a speech for seven hours straight
would be silenced. What subject was there for him to discuss besides
promises? And now nobody was sure what the future promised.
Only a few months before, I had heard that the new captain of the Cuban
national team, since Savon had stepped down, two-time Olympic gold
medalist Guillermo Rigondeaux, had attempted to defect in Brazil with
teammate Erislandy Lara and had been arrested. This amounted to the
highest profile boxing defection in Cuban history, unavoidably
symbolizing a massive turning point in not just Cuban sport, but Cuban
society on the whole. Rigondeaux's attempt at escape had become an
international news item and a national soap opera regularly appearing on
Cuban television. Castro himself had personally spoken out in the state
newspaper calling Rigondeaux a traitor and "Judas" to his people. "They
have reached a point of no return as members of a Cuban boxing team,"
Castro wrote in Granma. "An athlete who abandons his team is like a
soldier who abandons his fellow troops in the middle of combat."
Compounding the significance and ambiguity of Rigondeaux's situation was
boxing legend Teofilo Stevenson, probably the second most famous Cuban
in the world for the fortune he turned down to leave, defending
Rigondeaux. "They are not traitors," Stevenson declared. "They slipped
up. People will understand. They've repented. It is a victory that they
have returned. Others did not."
While Jimmy Cannon once called boxing "the red light district of
sports," Rafael Trejo resided in what was formerly Cuba's most famous
red light district. One of the largest funeral processions in Cuban
history was for the notorious pimp Yarini Ponce de Leon, who was shot
dead in a duel in the area. In Old Havana, the street names that
pre-date the revolution offer a glimpse into the city's state of mind at
that time. You might have known someone who lived on the corner of Soul
and Bitterness, Solitude and Hope or Light and Avocado. When things
changed in Cuba, the names were changed as well, and new signs went up.
Ask for directions from a local today, though, and you're likely to hear
the old names. Those names meant something personal and not easily
forgotten to the people who lived on those streets. Avocado Street was
named for the avocado that grew in the garden of a convent. Hope Street
was named for a door in the city wall before it was torn down. Soul
Street refers to the loneliness of the street's position in the city.
Sometimes these streets lead to dead ends; others lead to the doorsteps
of cathedrals constructed with the explicit intention of turning music
into stone.
While guidebooks might tell you that time collapsed here, another theory
says that in Latin America, all of history co-exists at once. In 1958,
Graham Greene wrote, "To live in Havana was to live in a factory that
turned out human beauty on a conveyor-belt." Yet this beauty the people
of Cuba unquestionably possess walks hand-in-hand with their pain.
Whomever you might encounter in this place lacking the capacity to walk
or even stand for whatever reason will inevitably remain convinced they
can dance. When Castro was put on trial in 1953 and asked who was
intellectually responsible for his first attempt at insurrection, he
dropped the name of the poet Jose Marti. From what I'd seen of it, the
revolution's hold on Cubans looked less like poetry and more like the
term zugzwang from chess: You're forced to move, but the only moves you
can make will put you in a worse position. Cuba had become an entire
population of 11 million people with every iron in the fire doubling as
a finger in a dyke.
* * *
At Trejo one afternoon, I spotted someone out of the corner of my eye
while I was training with my coach, Hector Vinent.
"Mi madre," Hector whispered, dropping his hands slowly, looking in the
same direction as me. "It's him."
"Him?" I asked.
"Si," Hector confirmed, then repeated gravely, "El."
When any Cuban refers to Him in conversation, with little to no
information or context provided, it invariably refers to Fidel.
"Mi madre," Hector groaned.
"Como?" I asked. "Quien?" (Who?)
Hector remained frozen. It was 100 degrees out that afternoon training
in the open air of Rafael Treo. I nudged him, but Hector wasn't coming
to. I looked around us as the silence took hold. All the proud coaches
refused to look the problem straight-on, instead staring off from the
corners of their eyes at the entrance to the gym. A profoundly
disturbing thing you discover very quickly traveling in Cuba is that the
most dangerous person for Cubans isn't the police or even the secret
police, it's their neighbors. Anyone can report you for anything
"outside" the revolution. Even if you haven't done it yet. Hector
himself had been banned from boxing before he'd ever attempted escape.
So what was this?
Had Fidel died or was El paying a visit?
"It's him," Hector repeated, this time even softer, nodding in the
direction of the entrance. "This is very dangerous for us,"
"Como?" I asked. "Who?"
"Rigondeaux. There, hiding in the shadows."
All I could see was a child near the entrance.
"That's Rigondeaux? That child?"
"Claro," Hector grunted. "That child is 27 and perhaps the greatest
boxer Cuba has ever produced. Fidel has said he will never fight again.
He has nowhere to go. Anyone in sports can no longer be seen talking to
him. We could lose our jobs. You can talk to him."
It was as if a Cuban version of Mr. Kurtz had stepped out of his own
version Heart of Darkness to pop into the gym for a visit.
That day, back in 2007, the first time I was introduced to Guillermo
Rigondeaux Ortiz in Havana, the thing was, I had little way of knowing
who or what I was looking at. I had only seen Rigondeaux's face not
obscured by headgear once. The trouble that evening was that his face
was instead obscured by the photograph of Fidel he was holding aloft
after having been declared the victor of a tournament. All I saw now was
a solemn, 5-foot-5-inch kid, dressed in a Nike ball cap and jeans, with
a fake Versace shirt that had the sleeves ripped off.
Without realizing it I started toward Rigondeaux. As I approached him,
in the shade under the bleachers of the entrance to Rafael Trejo, my
first impression was that his was the saddest face I had ever seen on
the island. One of the few things not in short supply in Havana is
sadness. Rigondeaux's sadness distinguished him from his countrymen
nearly as much as his boxing pedigree.
I reached out a hand and introduced myself and he did what he could,
under the strained circumstances at the gym, to muster a smile. Up close
I noticed his right eye showed damage, slumping slightly from his left.
Rigondeaux's attempt at a polite smile betrayed the gold grill over his
front teeth for a brief moment as he took another drag of his Popular
cigarette.
"So where did you get that gold on your teeth?" I asked him.
Rigondeaux snickered, dropped his head and smirked, taking a last long
drag on his cigarette before flicking it on the ground and stamping it
out with his sneaker. "Oh you know, I melted down both my gold medals
into my mouth. I used to fight in this place …"
* * *
A Cuban Boxer's Journey: Guillermo Rigondeaux, from Castro's Traitor to
American Champion will be released on June 3.
Source: The price of defection for a talented Cuban boxer. |
SportsonEarth.com : Brin-Jonathan Butler Article -
http://www.sportsonearth.com/article/77478026/cuba-boxer-guillermo-rigondeaux-journey-defection-fidel-castro#!TAZMT
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