Thursday, 30 June 2011

Anywhere else would have put up the white flag by now...

The more I delve into and discover about Cuba, the further I realise I still have to go to understand. I’m making some gains (that I’m enjoying sharing) but I’m not pretending to be making revelatory progress. It’s particularly hard because there just doesn’t seem to be a precedent, a similarity or a point of reference between Cuba and the rest of the world:

Where else do you find this political situation, which, though pronounced to be an ‘independent socialist republic’, is really neither socialist, nor communist nor capitalist. Where else do you face this level of need, with 80% of the population living in poverty, alongside this wealth of educational opportunities? How can the population be 99.8% literate but without the opportunities to a free and unadulterated education? How can the streets be unlit and unmaintained but mostly safe?  How can people be working as doctors, nurses and teachers without the right to strike or voice any discontent? How can it be legal to drive an un-serviced falling apart Chevrolet but illegal to eat potatoes, beef and lobster? How can the only coffee you find be made by Nestle and more than $2USD in a country that produces excellent coffee and the monthly salary accounts to what most of us earn in a couple of hours? And how can a country tolerate such hardship with so little complaint and ill humour? Why in short have they not put up the white flag yet and surrendered like the rest to the West?

To answer all these questions you need a lot more time, knowledge and understanding than I can offer here. If you’re looking for an easy way out however you could blame the embargo. It’s not going to give you all the answers but it is a beginning, and perhaps more of a clue to the situation than first meets the eye…….

Since the 1960s Washington has clamped a strict, though contradictory, trade embargo on Cuba with the aim of creating such economic distress that Fidel would relent and magically welcome western style democracy to the county. “The fundamental goal of US policy toward Cuba”, writes the government as it enshrines the embargo in US law in 1962, “is to promote a peaceful transition to a stable, democratic form of government and respect for human rights. Our policy has two fundamental components: to maintain pressure on the Cuban government for change… and working to aid the development of civil society in the country.”

It might have sounded like a cleaver plan (to some) at the time but it must be clear 50 odd years later that it’s not working so well. In fact you could go as far to say that it has completely backfired. The government today is no closer to ‘democracy’ (Castro denounced Western democracy as “complete garbage”) than The DRC and Cuban society remains far from free. In fact, the bloqueo (as Castro calls it is demounced by many Americans and Cuban’s alike as a complete farce. Why?
a)     It’s far from a full embargo. Whilst Cuba cannot sell anything to the USA, Uncle Sam can still flood Cuba with its goods, last year to the sum of US$700 million.
b)     It’s played right into Fidel’s hands. First year students learning about the creation of nations know that the greatest unifying force for a nationalistic society is normally the presence of a powerful external force against which to rally. America has painted itself as the evil imperialist leaving Castro to pick up the mantel of idol and knight in shining armour. The embargo provides the perfect answer as much for the country’s economic woes as a rationale for the suppression of human rights of its citizens as they support a city under siege.

The effects of the bloqueo have been much debated, especially as it’s particularly hard to separate the effects of the embargo from any failings of Castro’s government. Facts and figures would go so far (Cuba’s annual GDP is US$110bn but it is currently facing a $19bn trade foreign debt) but if you want to get an idea of the impact you need to go down to the everyday – and this is where Koral is a source of illustration and inspiration.

Koral is a friend from the Organopónico whose conversation and good humour turned around three otherwise monotonous days in the agroindustrial area. A mother of one she lives with her husband, son and mother in a (very) small flat uptown in Alamar. She earns $350 a month (Moneda nacionale) - about $15 US. When I arrived at her house for dinner on Saturday with 6 beers I realised I’d spent one third of her salary on a few empty calories. And whilst you can’t make a direct comparison, not least because Cuban’s don’t pay rent or taxes on the whole, my heart dropped when she asked me about my wages.

Even accounting for the difference in cost of most products and services here for Cuban people, many things are beyond her reach and that of the majority.  She can’t buy toilet roll, soap or coffee and regularly has to choose between having a proper meal and buying new clothes for her son. She is currently studying at the university but these qualifications will neither guarantee her a more skilled job nor a better paid one. She’s unlikely to be able to travel around the island and even less so to be able to leave it. In short she lacks both the rights and possibilities that I have, and for no fair or justifiable reason.

Rights and possibilities are the most important and most commonly confused words in the Cuban language. When citizens talk about the opportunities to read a free press, to strike against poor pay and unfair treatment, to travel and to learn freely, they’re talking about rights. Cuba may be a signatory of the UN covenants on human rights but it’s just for show; in 2009 Amnesty International named it as the worst offender in Latin America. Whether you’re talking about access to facebook or rights to a fair judicial hearing, there is a painful absence of them in this country, linked both to the political system and the foreign embargo. And even if Raul were to suddenly legalise everything from travel to internet access, the situation would still not be resolved as many Cuban’s like to think. Why? Because rights and possibilities are not the same thing.

The continuance of the dual currency is perhaps the single most important reason for the lack of possibility here. “Whilst both exist”, she says, “things will never change.” Whilst neither currency is recognised beyond the country’s watery border, the Cuban convertible peso trumps the national one hands down. The simplest way to describe it would be one for tourists and one for nationals; one prized and one shunned. Only like most things it’s not so simple. As tourists the government does indeed want you to trade in CUC, but it’s not impossible to get hold of national pesos and they come in pretty handy to buy mangos, hop on and off the busses and go to the cinema. But whilst for tourists having moneda nacionale is novel – it saves you money and allows you to get a bit closer to Cuban life at minimal cost - for Cuban’s having access to CUC is a hundred times more important; it’s a question of living well.

Tobacco, clothes, alcohol, condiments, toiletries, cupboard essentials (and I could go on) are only accessible in CUC. Even then they’re hardly accessible in though, since many are hugely expensive because of the embargo and thus considered luxury items. A further complication is that Cuban’s are paid in moneda nacionale and whilst the government permits changing money to CUC it offers the service at an unfavourable rate. This dual system excludes almost all nationals from participating in everything from a night on the town in Havana to enjoying ketchup with their omelette. And of course it also means you’re about as likely to be able to afford a flight out of here as the government is likely to permit you the visa to travel. Both rights and possibilities are far away.

However frustrated you expect Cuban’s to be as a result of this situation and many other seeming absurdities, they face each battle with admirable resolve.  People are more likely to blame the embargo than they are to blame Castro, of whom it’s difficult to gauge how people really feel. Koral did open up slightly when I asked her: “Castro is a god, an idol. Do you understand? But he is crazy.” People can see that now, but there is nothing that they can do, and there is little hope for improvement. “Things are not going to improve under Raul either.”

So “it’s not easy”. That is a phrase I hear a lot. “You cannot mix politics and economics”, her husband said, “it just doesn’t work”. This concoction has created a situation where Cuban’s cannot live off their salaries and are forced to turn to break the law to survive – either turning to the black market or robbing directly from the state in the tourist and transport industries for example. As goes the joke here, if the punishment for robbing in Cuba was cutting off your hand, everyone would be wandering around single handed.

Again a joke to turn the situation around. Not for nothing was Cuba ranked seventh on the New Economics Foundation Happy Planet Index. A country with no access to the internet, next to no adverts (except for political propaganda), no pornography, slim opportunities for people to travel, lack of the kind of ‘choice’ as have come to know and expect, ‘disposable income’ as a concept has not really been invented, consumerism is not the be all and end all and notably they’re not dripping in the black stuff. But Cuban people are, by and large, pretty happy. Very happy when you compare the 7th to the 114th of the USA, and the 115th of Nigeria. Spot the countries with the oil….

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