“It Hurts Me That Cubans Don’t Defend Migrants”
Cuban businessman Mike Fernandez believes the thaw with the US failed because “the Cuban leaders, being older, were afraid of change.”
HAVANA TIMES – Still, from time to time, the smell of the guava jam a neighbor used to make in his native Manzanillo hits him suddenly, even though a lot of water has passed under the bridge between that boy and the prosperous businessman Miguel “Mike” Fernández is today. Along life’s path, this 73-year-old Cuban has fought all kinds of battles and now stars in yet another skirmish, this time from Miami and for the respect of migrants.
In his office, the pharmaceutical magnate received 14ymedio on Tuesday to talk about his crusade of the last months and to discuss the challenges the Island faces ahead.
Where does so much sensitivity toward migrants come from?
Mike Fernandez: When my family left Cuba in 1964, we landed in Mexico and the Mexicans helped us a lot: they gave us a roof, they introduced us to some nuns who offered protection and services to Cuban migrants like us. On Fridays we would go to that convent to pick up powdered milk, cheese and other food in little boxes they prepared. Six months later we arrived in New York; we lived in a very poor area. At first, I had a good time playing in the street and attending school, but then winter arrived and we realized we were not prepared.
A Mexican man who worked as a waiter in a restaurant gave me my first coat and a pair of snow boots that had belonged to his son. So, my life has been marked from the beginning by the generosity of others. In those very difficult moments, they gave me their help, and I consider it an obligation to attend to those people who now need me.
What led you to finance those billboards critical of Donald Trump and the Cuban-American congresspeople, that have caused so much controversy in Miami?
As a Cuban living in a city with so many Cubans, it pains me to say that most of my compatriots have shut the door as if to say, “I’m in and that person who just arrived should stay out.” It hurts me that my people do not defend the migrant, that they do not protect them. That is why I wanted those who support our representatives to realize that they do us no good by working in Washington.
For these politicians to be elected they have to seek money and votes; I have contributed—and a lot—others have too. I always considered that a contract that says “you want my money and my vote, I want your voice in Washington to represent me.” But they are not representing us—nor do they represent us in the case of Cuba, nor do they represent us as Miami. They are not defending the rights of the people who put them in that position. It was important to say that publicly.ç
What was the reaction?
At first I did not say who was funding the billboards. We spent about a million dollars and for months no one knew; the Cuban-American representatives even said they had been organized by George Soros’s left, and it was then that I felt obliged to show my face so they would realize I was not a leftist, nor a socialist, and much less a communist. I was a capitalist, Cuban, a Miami neighbor and their taxpayer.
You have a letter signed by Donald Trump in your office. What does that framed document on the wall say?
Donald Trump is not a good person. I met him years ago and he struck me like a kick, as my father would say, to the point that I got up from the table and left. I did not have lunch with him because of the way he treated the Central American waiter who was serving us at his Palm Beach club. I called him out; I said: “Forgive me, sir, but that young man has already suffered a lot to get here; you cannot imagine what must have happened in his country for him to work at this private club, so don’t mistreat him—do me the favor. Treat him well, because that boy is going to become something you can’t even imagine; this is just a stop on the road of his life.” Trump’s answer was: “he works for me,” and I got up and left.
And what does the letter say?
When he first set out to run for the presidency of the United States, he was giving speeches all over the country and I made a decision to put up several billboards. One of them had a photo of Senator John McCain that said “our hero”; next to it was a photo of Donald Trump that said “our snake.” After that I started getting those threatening letters telling me to stop. So I simply sent him a copy with the amount of taxes I pay annually and told him: “if you want to keep sending me letters, it will cost both of us.” I didn’t receive any more; the one on the wall was the last.
“I simply sent him a copy with the amount of taxes I pay annually and told him: ‘if you want to keep sending me letters, it will cost both of us.’”
And will all this activism you carry out now lead to a political career?
I have no interest in politics; I am doing this because my parents educated me to care for others, to be responsible for what happens around me. After a certain age I’ve had a privileged life, and I feel the obligation to give. This is costing me capital, time and headaches.
Reactions and reprisals because of your actions?
About two weeks ago I was having lunch in a restaurant and a Cuban man came up to me with an ugly face and said, “what you are is a communist in disguise.” I stood up to shake his hand and he didn’t offer it, so I asked him if he liked fishing. When he answered yes, I said that if he and I were on a yacht in the middle of the sea and we came across a rowboat, in the bow were the Castro brothers, they had no water and were asking for help. In the stern were two small children. Would you give them water even knowing the two old men would drink too? I asked. The man replied, “let them all die of thirst.” I can’t be like that.
Are you not afraid?
I’m fearful of what might happen after the attacks I’ve received, but I also get calls and very positive comments congratulating me for what I’m saying publicly.
Recently you helped place a sculpture near La Ermita de la Caridad in Miami. Who does the piece honor?
Every year, with my family, I spend at least a month in Europe and while visiting the Vatican I saw this sculpture of a boat full of people. It moved me emotionally because they were of all races from all over the world. When I returned to the United States I located the artist, Timothy Schmalz, and told him I thought it would be interesting to place a piece like that in Miami where there are so many cultures and many languages are spoken—a city built by migrants. The one we put here is smaller than the one in the Vatican and the ideal place to put it was that church where so many Cubans, Venezuelans and Nicaraguans go.
“No dogs, no Cubans,” a sign used to say outside houses for rent when you first arrived in Miami. And now?
Unfortunately, things are getting very heated.
You recently withdrew funds you had donated to Florida International University (FIU). Will you use those resources for any other educational initiative?
The Florida government decided to increase what the children of migrants not born in the US must pay. Many people who were in their last years of a degree have been forced to leave their studies because they can’t pay. It hurts a lot because that document on that wall [he points to a couple of framed pages] is the law that was passed in 2011 in this state so that the child of an undocumented migrant would be charged the same as a kid born in this country. That has been reversed this year.
Now I’m contributing to the organization The Dreams.US that helps many of these young people continue their studies.
You wrote a book, you’ve done the Camino de Santiago five times, you’ve impacted the lives of thousands, you have five children, a multimillion-dollar business and you’ve cared for countless dogs in your life. What remains on your personal list?
Helping others. I see my life as a book where I write a page every day and, on that page, I have the obligation to do something for someone each day. Whether it’s a shoe seller or a mayor. I don’t seek publicity or fame.
Where does that willingness to serve come from?
From my parents and my Catholic upbringing. My father taught me how to confront evil and my mother how to be generous. The Jesuits, with whom I studied at school, told me to be a “man for others.”
What is your most intense memory of your childhood in Cuba?
Climbing up on my roof at dusk, lying on my back and turning on a little radio I had built myself out of a cigar box, a magnet and a speaker. Those were the happiest days of my life.
One piece of advice for those who run Cuba’s economy?
Open the doors.
Have you worked toward that opening on the Island?
I’ve never told this before, but a few years ago I approached the US government to create an investment fund of about $300 million for Cuba. I met with Cuban officials and told them I had no interest in investing a penny in official projects; I wanted to help private entrepreneurs. That initiative had to be approved by the Office of Foreign Assets Control and it got stuck in that process. I don’t think an idea of that type could prosper right now and, unfortunately, Cuba has a bad reputation for not paying its debts.
They became afraid of the words Obama spoke
Why did the diplomatic thaw between Washington and Havana fail?
HAVANA TIMES -I was there for Obama’s speech at Havana’s Grand Theater and one thing that struck me was that every time he said an important phrase, the officials seated in the audience first looked at Raul Castro to see if he applauded: only if Castro applauded did they too. Cuba’s future would have changed completely if they had continued to nurture that relationship with the US rulers, but that process was destroyed by the fear of the older Cuban leaders who feared change. They became afraid of the words Obama pronounced.
On the return trips you’ve made to Cuba have you been to Manzanillo?
Yes, I went once in 1999 and reconnected with some childhood friends; one of them still kept the bicycle I gave him when my family and I had to leave into exile in 1964. It was a very emotional reunion. At first, I hardly remembered anything of the town but when I went there the memories started to come and I knew where I had to go to find those friends I had been inseparable from.
It’s best not to go back to a place where you were happy… Would you return to live in Cuba?
As long as there is no political change on the Island I don’t see a future for Cubans or for me. I hope to be alive when that change occurs. I was in the Vietnam War and 20 years later I ran into a Vietnamese general in Washington. We started talking and I asked him how his country had managed to establish a capitalist economy. The man pointed to a book we had nearby and he said “by turning the page.”
So Mike Fernández’s estate, with cows and horses, in Manzanillo… won’t be a reality for the moment.
No, they would confiscate the cows.
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First published in Spanish by 14ymedio and translated and posted in English by Havana Times.