A Spanish Cuba?
HAVANA TIMES – As many know, in a dramatic turn of events, the Supreme Court of the United States upheld the Trump administration’s appeal and has decided to unfreeze the executive order that revokes the benefits of the Humanitarian Parole program for thousands of Cubans, Venezuelans, Haitians, and Nicaraguans.
This measure strips beneficiaries from these four countries of their work permits and puts them at risk of deportation.
What’s most striking is the overwhelming support for these measures from the Cuban community, judging by the comments circulating on social media.
To these US residents and citizens of Cuban origin, those of us who entered through the program are branded as criminals, frauds, communists, etc.
They can’t hide their delight. To them, the executive is doing the right thing for the security and economy of the United States — their country.
It doesn’t matter if they were born in Cuba, or if they themselves once entered the country irregularly. Who remembers that? They’re so pathetic they perceive themselves as white, blond-haired, blue-eyed, Anglo-Saxon Americans.
These circumstances have pushed me toward an idea that has been taking hold of my convictions for weeks.
It’s clear that Cuba is going through its deepest crisis — not just socially, but more importantly, morally and spiritually.
Cuba is now reaping the consequences of more than six decades of socialist totalitarianism: the destruction of the national soul.
Most Cubans today fall into three well-defined groups:
- Supporters of the regime
- Those living in survival mode, broken by double standards and disgrace
- The far-right Trump supporters, mostly based in South Florida
The latter consider themselves staunchly anti-communist, but they are anything but democratic. Spiritually, they’re aligned with Castroism — they use the same methods, the same strongman-style attitudes, and the same intolerance toward independent thought.
They’re a kind of sect, a cult of the leader. In the absence of Fidel, they now have Trump.
The real opposition, the true exile, is rendered invisible in the midst of this crossfire.
The idea that has been hammering in my brain for weeks is that Cuba has no solution. We’ve reached the point of no return. There is no model of Western democracy or free market that can save us from such pettiness, hypocrisy, and evil — from so much disgrace and international ridicule.
Sometimes I feel ashamed to call myself Cuban. Sometimes I wonder whether Martí and the rest of our founding fathers might have been wrong — whether a Spanish Cuba might have been better. Today we’d be a province of Spain and would be better off. We’d have democracy despite that country’s own issues.
Sometimes I think of renouncing my Cuban identity and defining myself as Spanish. After all, that’s where my ancestors came from.
I don’t know. It’s an idea that hammers in my brain.