Cuban Solidarity Day

Poster designed by Guyla Nemeth, graphic artist from Budapest, Hungary

It's Cuban Solidarity Day today--a day to show our support for the Cuban people, brave Cuban dissidents, political prisoners and their families. The list of prisoners is long; I'm sure there are many more whose cases are not known or classified as such. In Castro's Cuba there are many "crimes" one can be sent to jail for, from "social pre-delinquency" (propensity to commit a crime, but without having actually committed one; this usually means being unemployed after being fired from one's job by the sole employer in the country, i.e. the State--and frequently used to detain dissidents), "illicit hoarding" (economic crimes such as attempting to survive through one's own initiative by making/selling or reselling anything you can find) to more overtly political ones such as "enemy propaganda" (writing the truth about Cuba and publishing it anywhere), and "desacato" (disrespect) to the Comandante (saying or writing "Abajo Fidel" and the like). In short, actions that would not be crimes here anywhere else.

My heart goes out to every Cuban on the prison-island, but especially to the wives--the Damas de Blanco-- the families and particularly the children of political prisoners. These children are deprived of having their fathers or mothers at home (in some cases both father and mother). Some are too young to understand why their parents are imprisoned. In school, they are told by their teachers that their parent is a criminal, a "counterrevolutionary," they are often abused by their fellow students and picked on by their teachers, given poor marks despite high academic achievement.

For these children, infrequently visiting their fathers in a Cuban jail in all its medieval Dantesque horror must be a demoralizing experience. How could anyone be so cruel as to do this to an innocent child? I pray for these children, and their families, that they all won't have to endure these injustices much longer.

My problem is that I don't believe that all the peaceful pressure of an international community will ever persuade Cuba's rulers to abandon power, any more than North Korea's Kim Il Jung. These unrepentant brutes would cheerfully take as many lives as possible before they would cede an inch, so where does that leave us who desire freedom for these lands? Should we aid & abet armed insurrection inside these countries or wait another half century for the horror-movie regimes to fall of their own internal corruption? Will they really disintegrate like the USSR? Cuba is in the process of illustrating that Fidel's demise will do little to dismantle the apparatus of state repression he instituted a half century ago, about the only thing that works in Cuba these days. May God help me to regain the faith that something can be done.

May 21 is Cuba Solidarity Day

I imagine the date for Cuba Solidarity Day was chosen because it's preceded by two important dates in Cuban history this week. I am joining this world-wide day of support for the cause of liberty for Cuba and its political prisoners by sharing family stories that tie us to Cuba and the cause of freedom.

On this day, May 19, we commemorate the 113 th anniversary of the death of Jose Marti, known to Cubans as "The Apostle of Liberty." For those who do not know Cuban history, on this day Marti was wounded in a minor skirmish with the Spaniards near Dos Rios, a small village in Oriente, in the eastern part of Cuba, and died hours later as a result of his wounds. Marti had spearheaded this last Cuban Independence movement and was its undisputed leader--his loss was a harsh blow for the new military campaign for independence from Spain that had just begun in February of 1895.

My maternal grandfather, Othon Caturla, who was quite a character, had a number of fascinating stories to tell. Pa, as my sisters and I fondly called him, liked to relate how when the news of Marti's death made its way to his home town of Remedios in Las Villas (as the central province was called before Castro changed its name), the immediate reaction from all the young men in the town was to want to join the liberation army of Cuban fighters in the countryside. Marti would not die in vain, his death would be avenged by freedom!

Othon was a few months shy of his fifteenth birthday, so he and his older brother Marcelo agreed to wait until he had turned fifteen before joining up. They made their arrangements through the widow of Urrutia (mother of the man who would later have the singular honor of being interim President of Cuba for six months in 1959 after Castro's take-over), and she put them in touch with conspirators who had ties to the troops. Many of the conspirators were women, brave and willing to sacrifice along with their men.

In late July, Othon and his brother boarded a train to a near-by town, then got off at one of the intermediate stops, where they were met by someone who led them to a safe house. From there they rode on horseback to meet General Carrillo's men. Together the Caturla brothers would survive as part of Carrillo's troops for three years, until the Americans joined the fight and beat Spain in a scant three months of the Spanish-American War.

This photo, published in a Collier's Magazine issue in May of 1898, shows General Carrillo (on chair) and his senior staff: my grandpa is the skinny lad seated first from the left, still too young to grow a beard. What an impoverished troop they appear, and yet these men were tough: they hung on valiantly for three years, fighting the better-equipped Spanish army with little more than machetes and sticks. The photo was taken by an intrepid American journalist, James Ware, who had been sent on an expedition to meet with General Maximo Gomez, Commander-in Chief of the Republic in Arms.

Ware's story makes for amazing reading from start to finish: his ship running aground attempting to run the Spanish blockade, losing all of his gear to save his heavy camera from the surf, making his way through the Cuban "manigua" (the bush) from Cardenas out to Oriente to find Gomez. His photo was reproduced in the 1950's in El Diario de la Marina, one of the leading newspapers in the Havana of my childhood, and my mother recognized her father in the photo. Otherwise, I would not have known the original source. Many years later in exile, I was able to take this photograph from an original issue of the magazine at the Library of Congress.

I have confidence that today's dissidents and political prisoners are every bit as tough and determined as my grandfather's generation to bring freedom once again to our beloved island. I salute each and every one of them with heartfelt thanks for their brave example. Let us all work until we have once again a Cuba Libre!