April 20, 2011
Haroldo Dilla Alfonso
The author who has addressed the issue most is Carlos Alzugaray, right,
possibly because his professional training is more closely related to
the topic. Photo: uv.mx
HAVANA TIMES, April 20 — For critical left intellectuals and activists
who live in Cuba, the issue of the Cuban emigration (20 percent of the
nation's population and crucial in terms of its economic importance) is
a vague issue.
Usually it is a matter that goes unmentioned. But when it is raised,
it's more like going to the wake of a dead buddy: people sympathize with
the orphaned offspring but they don't commit to helping keep them
"alive" – it costs a lot. There's also a cost in mentioning the issue
in Cuba, where the matter of emigration is always a political mine field.
The only left organization that has adopted a fundamental position
vis-à-vis the émigré community has been (not coincidentally) the only
group that is considered illegal and therefore subject to state
repression: Arco Progresista. Simply stated, this organization demanded
in its "Carta de Nuevo Pais" (Letter for a New Country) the right of the
migrants "to participate in the formation of the political will of the
state."
This is a forward step that must be appreciated and understood as
inevitable for those who effectively believe in a socially just and
politically democratic future republic, where the left (socialist or
not) has the full right to present its proposals for superseding
capitalism and establishing (as Gramsci suggested) an ethical/political
leadership. One cannot speak of Cuban society without also speaking of
its diaspora; and if it is a question of speaking, it's necessary to do
this with all the depth that this deserves.
Recognition that a solution is needed
When reviewing the interviews of the four intellectuals published by
Espacio Laical, which I discussed in a previous article (Does a
Revolutionary Social Pact Exist in Cuba?), I got the impression of a
positive advance in relation to that matter since all four of them
mentioned the issue and argued for solutions that involved more openness.
But I'm afraid that in no case has there been a true evaluation of the
complexity of the issue, at least not one presented succinctly. Because
of this, all of those distinguished analysts remained very far,
deplorably far, from suggesting an integral solution. It's to the point
that I believe we émigrés don't fit in that republic "by all and for the
wellbeing of all" that was called for by Lenier Gonzalez.
Unquestionably, the author who has addressed the issue most is Carlos
Alzugaray, possibly because his professional training is more closely
related to the topic. In summary, this analyst suggests two points: The
first is to allow "the free movement of Cuban citizens in one or another
direction," and the second is to solve the issue of the legal
recognition of dual citizenship.
As can be surmised, we haven't gone very far along this road. Even when
we interpret the analyst's rhetorical ambiguities in a more progressive
sense (for example, believing that when he wants to speak honestly about
legislation regarding the dual citizenship, he argues for its
acceptance) he does not mention the key questions: the right of
emigrants to return and live in Cuba and the restoration of their
social, political and civil rights, even when they continue living
outside the country.
A redesigned policy based on control and survival
Alzugaray says something that is at least partially true: since the end
of the 1970s there has been a redesign of immigration policy by the
Cuban government. The only problem is that this redesign has nothing to
do with an inclusive, fair and respectful approach to the rights of
emigrants. What the Cuban government redrafted since the end of the
'70s involves the multiple use of those emigrants in accordance with its
politics of political/ideological control and its economic survival.
If those who emigrated before the 1970s were characterized as
"historical surplus scum," since that decade there began to take shape a
more sophisticated ideological and a growing economic use of them. For
this, the Cuban leaders did what they've always done to be able to
govern: they fragmented the opposition. In this case they fragmented
the emigrant community into three groups for specific uses.
The first one is the acquiescent segment composed of functionaries
working for joint-venture companies, people with special permits who are
interested in preserving them and others whose political preferences
bring them near the Cuban government. They constitute, from the vantage
point of official ideology, the "patriotic" sector of emigration. They
are the genuine heirs of the early tobacco workers in Cayo Hueso (Florida).
These are the people who are invited to the "Nacion con la Emigracion"
(Nation with Emigrants) dialogues – which are in truth pro-government
conferences lacking participation from either emigrants or the nation.
Instead, involvement is only from part of the former group and a
government whose legitimacy has never been confirmed in any democratic,
competitive or pluralistic elections. Consequently, it can be said that
this fragment represents the nation only in formal legal terms, nothing
more.
As noted, the principal function of this segment is symbolic. It offers
the world and the manacled Cuban public opinion the false image that
emigrants (or a substantial part of them) support the government and its
politics. These "factions" can possibly be used as violent battering
rams against other migrants, as frequently occurs in European cities.
This would be a sort of overseas Rapid Response Brigade.
Miami hosts the flip side
The counterpart of this segment is composed of those people who maintain
hardline positions in opposition to the Cuban government, either because
they demand its violent overthrow or because they oppose all types of
contact or negotiations with it, or because they support US punitive
actions (such as the blockade/embargo).
Their demonstrations in the streets of Miami — particularly if these are
violent — are presented as typical political demonstrations of émigré
opponents. Their leaders and spokespersons are the bêtes noires that
the Cuban government selects to exhibit to the island's population,
which is the type of future it would expect if the current political
class were deposed and its fate were placed at the mercy of the exiles.
However, the great majority of those who have emigrated are outside of
these two fringes. They are people who are silent, those who cannot
demonstrate politically out of fear of losing entry or exit permits for
relatives, individuals who send their remittances to Cuba and pay their
consular fees on time. They are displayed as and explained to be people
"respectful" of the Cuban system.
Their peculiar condition as exiles — like all of us Cubans who emigrate
— is deceivingly dissolved in the consideration that they are economic
migrants; that they emigrated because on this planet almost everybody
emigrates to live better. Consequently, they also serve to teach the
common Cuban that to behave well is a condition of being able to travel,
to return a few days every year, and to possibly "pluck" ones family
from the island.
But above all, this majority faction has an economic use that the Cuban
government cannot relinquish: they are an essential pivot of popular
consumption and a basic supplier of hard currency, with this latter
feature accentuated due to the expropriating vocation that the Cuban
government has in connection with emigrated nationals.
Limited freedom
Despite its repugnant style, the design that was previously explained
has certainly implied more freedom for the common Cuban. Formerly they
couldn't travel anywhere but now they can do so under certain
conditions. However it is a freedom that is partial and conditional,
one that is delegated and therefore revocable.
No part of this explicitly recognizes the right of citizens to leave and
return to the island to live in the place where they were born, and
because of that it is more like a type of permission than it is a
freedom. Moreover, it's always quite expensive for the pockets of those
who finance the trips, often working long hours in several jobs
simultaneously.
But it's also very costly for the prestige of the parasitic Cuban
political class, which at least previously could argue about the
security of the redeeming revolution as the reason for restricting the
right to travel and return, but who now simply sell that right.
The republic of the future, the one that should be "with all and for the
wellbeing of all" according to Lenier Gonzalez, cannot be built without
a clear and precise criticism of this system that is frankly
dishonorable in its manipulation of public opinion, of exacting
punishment against its political critics and opponents, and of
expropriating migrants and their families.
There can only be one agenda: the elimination of all legal and
administrative restrictions that today prevent Cuban citizens from
freely traveling abroad, just as those that impede emigrants from
returning to their country of origin, residing there and fully enjoying
their civic rights.
There is no possibility of aspiring for a better Cuba without the
inclusion of its emigrant community. Either there are freedom and
rights for everyone or there will be none for anybody.
Demonstrated graphically, until Yoani Sanchez can travel to wherever she
pleases, and the four brilliant interviewees of Espacio Laical will have
to continue speaking cryptically in order to always be able to argue
they weren't understood – and essentially so they won't be understood.
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