Like a growing number of Americans, I have had the opportunity to visit Cuba under the Castro regime. I did so in 2003, as part of a group trip organized by the League of Historic American Theaters. This trip was possible, despite the political climate at the time, due to a U.S. State Department program granting licenses for visits to Cuba by groups of Americans with a cultural-exchange purpose for traveling. In the case of the LHAT trip, we went to Cuba to visit a variety of historical sites, including performance venues, and to meet with local experts on the culture and the processes involved in restoring landmarks.
The trip left me with mixed, but very powerful feelings. In describing the trip to others, I have often said that to me, Cuba is either sadly beautiful, or beautifully sad. As much as anything, this feeling comes from the fact that the island is frozen in time, and suffering from the effects of a horrific economic system that, notwithstanding small efforts at liberalization, still emphasizes central planning at the expense of innovation.
Much is made, of course, of the cars, all of which date from various decades prior to 1961, except for the Soviet-era vehicles that are still on the road. But it is also the buildings as well, which also reflect the styles of earlier eras, but are falling apart in varying degrees. And too, it is the eerie quietness that pervades much of Havana, and the surrounding area. There is commerce, but it is being conducted on such a reduced level that one feels like a visitor in a small town, and not a city of more than 2 million.
On the other hand, there are the Cuban people. And they show neither resentment nor a lack of language skills when it comes to dealing with Americans. English was spoken pretty freely in most of the areas we visited, and our spending was very much appreciated. Due to the embargo, all of this had to be done in cash, which the Cubans then exchange into the currencies of countries that have diplomatic ties to the U.S. as well as Cuba, and then ultimately into Cuban currency. And American fashions are extremely popular, especially as related to baseball; my only confrontational moments came when I tried to protect my American baseball caps (Orioles and Mets) from being snatched off of my head.
Perhaps the moment that summed up much of the trip for me was our visit to the Gran Teatro de La Habana (Great Theater of Havana), which you can learn a little more about here. As you can see from some of the photos, it is an architectural feast for the eyes. Having seen the building close-up, however, I can tell you that it is in very sad shape. On the day we visited it, however, its stage was being animated by elementary-age girls taking a dance class. As I watched the girls leave the class with their backpacks and designer-label clothes, I was struck by how much they reminded me of their American counterparts. And, as I was getting ready to leave for our tour bus, I was equally struck by the sight of one of LHAT's preservation professionals, an expert in plaster and paint, inspecting a long crack in the lobby wall. One of his colleagues joked to him "I'll bet you can't wait to get started on this."
I think that all of us should feel that we can't wait to get started on the process of ending five decades of diplomatic futility. The embargo has not made anyone in Cuba hate Castro less; if it did, Castro would have been driven from power years ago. If anything, it has handed him a propaganda weapon that has kept him in power, despite the fact that his regime has created economic conditions that should make any self-respecting people ready to revolt.
And, at the same time, it has handed us an opportunity to practice the best kind of diplomacy: the person-to-person kind. There is no more powerful tool in spreading freedom than by introducing those who do not have it to those who do. That, all by itself, is plenty of plutonium for the advancement of democracy. And when you add American dollars to the equation, it all but guarantees the kind of non-violent liberation we achieved by similar means among the other nations of the Soviet bloc.
That is why President Obama's initiative to open up relations to Cuba should be welcomed by everyone, regardless of their political leanings. We are not handing the Castro regime a weapon; we are taking one away from it. We are also opening up opportunities for trade and cultural exchanges that will ultimately shake the rotting foundation of the current government, and replace it with one that will be better for both the Cuban and American peoples. In the process, we will open a new and historic chapter in our often-troubled historic relationship with Cuba (remember the "Maine," anyone?), and also in our relationship with Latin America as a whole.
I don't believe that the President's new policy will generate a huge backlash among the American people; public sentiment has been trending in the direction of approving such an initiative. But, of course, the usual Republican congressional suspects have already opened fire, including Cuban-American Senator Marco Rubio of Florida. My advice, Senator: take some time to listen to your people and, instead of reflexively opposing Obama, do the right thing--by them, and by the people you and they left behind. It won't hurt your Presidential prospects, such as they are, and it may help you cut yourself and everyone else loose from the dead weight of a failed policy.
And, if you have the opportunity to go to Cuba, go. You'll see what I've been talking about. You'll have a great time. And you'll help a captive people take further steps to freedom.
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