CUBA: Exit Fidel

Cuba is back in the news. Last weekend, after 48 years in office, Fidel Castro relinquished power, passing the reigns to his younger brother Raul (who’s 76). Although this official transfer of power is important, Raul has been de facto running the island since July 2006 when Fidel “temporarily” gave up control of the island because of some mysterious yet grave ailment (nobody really knows what he is suffering from- the CIA once again missed the mark when they predicted he would be dead by December 2006).

Despite the prognostications of some experts, nobody really knows what’s going to happen in Cuba. Raul has been called a pragmatist, but was also a hard line communist. Last weekend he called for unspecified degrees of reform, yet simultaneously put old guard hardliners in key positions. Life could continue the same. Or there could be some vague Chinese style democratic opening. Or there could be a true transition to democracy. It’s anybody’s guess. All the same, I would venture to say that nothing substantive will happen until after Fidel is officially dead.

I spent a month studying in Havana while I was in college. I could never say a month is sufficient time to really know a place, but I found Cubans to be very nice and friendly. I also found the Cuban regime to be very repressive (although I’ve met other Americans who studied on the island and found that “Cubans love it!”).

Case in point: in one of my first few days in Havana some friends and I met a local “fixer” named Mike. Fixers are fairly common in the third world. They are very enterprising street-smart people who, for a price, offer to show tourists and foreigners around. Good ones can get you some really nice deals and take you to some really cool places (alternatively, bad ones can get you kidnapped).

Mike was a rapper who styled himself the Cuban Tupac Shakur (he had “Thug Life” tattooed on his stomach) and was very disenchanted with life on the island. He spoke little English but had managed to learn “Fuck Fidel” and “Fuck Socialism.” He was constantly going on about how life was so much better before the collapse of the USSR (which more or less bank rolled Cuba) and how he wanted to move to the United States. At one point we were walking down the street and he was spouting forth some critique of the regime, people around us began to glance at him worriedly (or maybe fearfully), telling him to take it easy. His response was that he didn’t give a shit anymore.

At one point he asked us how life was in the States. We told him that life wasn’t as easy back home as many people thought, especially if you don’t have an education. “But if you work hard, there’s a chance you could succeed?" he then asked. "Here there’s no chance. Fidel decides.”

40th Anniversary of the Killing of Che Guevara

His back was to the wall and his head was held high as he spoke his last words, “be easy and aim well. It’s a man you’re going to kill.” Then, on October 9, 1967, Che Guevara was executed in a rural Bolivian school house. The bullets pierced his arm, his shoulder and his heart. Today marks the 40th anniversary of Che the human’s death and the birth of Che the symbol. Although it’s barely mentioned in the American media, it’s a pretty big story in the Spanish language press.

Most of us know Che Guevara superficially through his romantically heroic image emblazoned on t-shirts and Motorcycle Diaries, a 2005 movie starring Gael García Bernal about Che's youthful adventures. Indeed, in 2004 a very conservative friend of mine told me he admired Che because he fought for “freedom.” Sure, his image sells a lot of T-shirts, but who was Che Guevara? He was a leader of the Cuban revolution; but he was not Cuban and Che wasn’t even his real name.

He was born Ernesto Guevara de la Serna to an upper middleclass family in Rosario, Argentina (a city about 3.5 hours from Buenos Aires) in 1928.

He was a sickly kid and after graduating from high school studied to be a medical doctor. Upon graduation from medical school he began traveling. He practiced medicine pro-bono throughout Latin America until the early 1950’s when he met Fidel Castro and Co. in Mexico. He and his then-wife joined the Cuban independence movement. On December 2, 1956, the Cuban revolutionary forces set sail from the Yucatan peninsula on a rickety boat to fight against Cuba’s (then American backed) dictator Fulgencio Batista and conquer Cuba. They engaged the Cuban army in guerilla warfare on the Eastern side of the island. To be sure, they were not the only band of revolutionary fighters, they were one of many. But they were the most visible fighters and Fidel in particular was a hugely charismatic figure.

Ernesto transformed into Che while fighting in the Cuban jungle. Che is a popular term in Argentina, it means “hey/yo” and sometimes “dude,” and it’s a term Cubans do not ordinarily use. Guevara naturally used this term a lot and, to poke fun at him, his Cuban comrades began to call him “Che.” It quickly became his nome-de-guerre.

The Revolutionary forces toppled the Batista dictatorship on January 1, 1959 and Ernesto the sickly child was long gone. Out of the jungle emerged Fidel, his right hand man Che, and their band of fighters.

Fidel was able to maneuver himself to the lead among the various revolutionary factions and quickly consolidated control. Che took responsibility for executions, and was responsible for killing hundreds of people at the Cabaña prison. He killed Batista loyalists (and their families), ‘capitalists’ and dissidents who spoke out against the new Fidel-led regime. Many took to calling him “the butcher of Cabaña prison.”

He was a staunch, dogmatic communist and admired Joseph Stalin. He approved the killing of innocents, even children, if it strengthened his communist cause. He also dreamed of having “one, two, three Vietnams,” to kill as many Americans as possible and have a global communist revolution.

In 1967 Che left his wife and five kids in Cuba and traveled to Bolivia, where he hoped to spark a Communist insurgency. However, he never fermented local Bolivian support. On October 8, 1967 Bolivian forces, with the help of the CIA, captured Che. Forty years ago today he spoke his last words. Then Che was executed in a small school house in La Higuera, Bolivia. Perhaps Capitalism’s ultimate revenge is that his image is now used to make profits. But think before you wear that T-shirt.

(Does Che remind you of anyone in particular? How about Ayman al-Zawahiri? Al Qaeda’s number two and a qualified medical doctor.)