I hear, Bush, that you enjoy an occasional cigar. As do I. As did your predecessor in office--though in a peculiarly scandalous manner. Generally, though, it's an arcane, somewhat big-boyish pleasure, and one which, if not too frequently indulged (especially for a reformed cigarette smoker like myself), does little harm. Word has it that you have a couple of rooms set aside for the purpose in the White House, as in those good old days when men could discreetly retire after dinner for brandy and cigar and, of course, some weighty man-talk.
Ah, well. Those days are long gone, Bush. I take my cigar outside, on the balcony, on a Sunday afternoon, where my wife is spared the aroma as I smoke--though she still finds cause enough to complain about the odor on me afterwards
Anyway, the reason I bring this up is simple: Cuba. Why Cuba? Well, just because a reader of these letters was kind enough to ask what I thought about our relations with that tiny island nation. That thorn in America's side. That "outpost of tyranny" to which your Rice referred in her confirmation hearings (I haven't heard word from your Cheney yet: are we planning another attack?) And my mind began to wander to cigars, and whether you, in your position of power and--let's admit it, Bush--some privilege, might not have access to the occasional Havana? Perhaps through the good graces of your brother, Jeb, and his connections down there in Florida. Or whether you have the deep moral fiber to resist temptations such as this, given their illegality. (I must confess here that I myself generally succumb, when I have the opportunity: I have managed to smuggle in the occasional handful from the duty-free shop, when returning from abroad. And I haven't been arrested yet. Touch wood.)
But to get to the meat of the matter: our friend Fidel. His revolution, I have to say, was hard to resist in the glory days of the sixties. Not only did it have a decidedly romantic flair, it succeeded in toppling a regime so corrupt, so brutal, so alien to the interests of the poor and downtrodden that it deserved to fall. And I was young enough then, along with great numbers of my contemporaries, to share Castro's socialist zeal. Remember how it was? Power to the people! Such a seductive cry, back then. Dr. Fidel, with his black beard and fatigues and cigar, his fiery rhetoric--not to mention his sidekick, Che--was an unlikely but, yes, a curiously appealing hero to the youthfully naive.
Well we've all grown up a bit since then. Except Fidel. The trouble with the revolution was that it became itself a tyranny, as revolutions tend to do. Fidel's passion to do good things for his people degenerated into a familiar, tired old lust for retaining power, and thence into untrammelled dictatorship. The line between taking care of people and abuse is a fine one, even in personal relationships. Once you know what's best for everyone else and start to impose your vision on them, no matter how seemingly altruistic, you cease to be the cure and become instead the problem--a danger you yourself, Bush, might know something about! Once you stifle all disagreement and jail the dissidents--or worse, eliminate them--you have not only descended into the worst of tyranny, you have effectively deprived yourself of the source of all creative thinking and, with it, the possibility of change.
So I do not subscribe to the political thought and practice Castro borrowed, despite all evidence of its abject failure in the real world, from the already bankrupt Soviet brand of communism. I personally reject tyranny, without equivocation, whatever its form and wherever it is manifest. I despise the abuse of power to force people into submission.
That said, I also believe that, since the revolution, we have gone about our relations with Cuba in entirely the wrong way. We could long ago have killed the regime with kindness, as I see it, had we taken that tack. Instead, this country mistakenly chose to use its muscle to defeat the monster. We tried a military coup. Invasion. We know how well that tactic worked. And for decades now we have been trying trade and travel embargos, which have worked no better. On the contrary, they have succeeded only in further isolating Castro and his regime, and inducing him to consolidate his desperate hold on power through desperate means. They have alienated those who suffered under his rule, contributing to the deterioration of the social and economic fabric of their country.
Castro's brand of poison, I believe, could not so easily nor so long have survived the benefits of friendship, diplomatic exchange, trade, education, and a free exchange of ideas with the United States. But no. Instead we have allowed ourselves to be held by the short hairs by a relatively small number of disgruntled exiles, who infiltrated the political life of Florida--with its key position on our own national political map. And now our hostility is such that we're willing to sacrifice our own best interests, and those of a whole nation of the oppressed, in stubborn resistance to this one intransigent old man and his obsolescent vision.
Sadly, now that the "axis of evil" has been expanded to include "outposts of tyranny", I don't see much coming from your administration, Bush, by way of hope to change this situation. If it were up to me, I'd throw the whole thing open. But it's not, Bush. It's up to you. Give it a thought, okay?
And to the reader who brought the subject up: thanks for asking.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
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1 comment:
Thank you so much for not only answering my query, but so eloquently stating almost exactly how I feel about the Cuban revolution and the US response to it. It is bittersweet, the 50 year old "revolution", something to which I have devoted much time, thought, and study.
As a sidenote, I have some Havana cigars, straight from the city itself, if you'd be interested. I would love to offer one (or two...) as a gift for your time and the way you captured my sentiments.
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