CUBA NEWS
The Miami Herald

End Cuban embargo, U.N. urges U.S.

By Edith M. Lederer, Associated Press. Posted on Thu, Nov. 09, 2006

NEW YORK - The U.N. General Assembly voted overwhelmingly Wednesday to urge the United States to end its 45-year-old trade embargo against Cuba after defeating an Australian amendment calling on Fidel Castro's government to free political prisoners and respect human rights.

It was the 15th straight year that the 192-member world body approved a resolution calling for the U.S. economic and commercial embargo against Cuba to be repealed "as soon as possible.''

Cuban Foreign Minister Felipe Pérez Roque told the assembly "the economic war unleashed by the U.S. against Cuba, the longest and most ruthless ever known, qualifies as an act of genocide and constitutes a flagrant violation of international law and the charter of the United Nations.''

Delegates in the General Assembly chamber burst into applause when the vote in favor of the the resolution flashed on the screen -- 183-4 with one abstention. That was a one-vote improvement over last year's vote of 182-4 with one abstention. Joining the United States in voting ''no'' were Israel, Marshall Islands and Palau, while Micronesia abstained.

The assembly voted on the resolution soon after adopting a resolution to take ''no action'' on the Australian amendment, which meant it could not be added to the Cuban draft. That vote was 126-51 with five abstentions.

The proposed amendment stated that the U.S. laws and measures "were motivated by valid concerns about the continued lack of democracy and political freedom in Cuba.''

It would have had the assembly call upon "the Cuban government to release unconditionally all political prisoners, cooperate fully with international human rights bodies and mechanisms, respect the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and comply fully with its obligations under all human rights treaties to which it is a state party.''

Foreign banks in Cuba feel heat of U.S. regulations

The Bush administration's vow to enforce U.S. regulations is stifling Cuba's ability to operate in international markets.

By Pablo Bachelet, pbachelet@MiamiHerald.com. Posted on Wed, Nov. 08, 2006

WASHINGTON - Weary of navigating the Treasury Department's stringent rules on money transfers to Cuba, MoneyGram International called it quits. Starting mid-September, the cash transfer company stopped serving the island.

''It was too complicated,'' said Cathy Rebuffoni, a spokeswoman for the Minneapolis-based firm, "and we weren't getting any volumes.''

MoneyGram was the latest big-name financial services company to cut back or end its dealings with Havana under a U.S. crackdown that appears to be hitting Cuba hard, severely disrupting the government's ability to make and receive international payments.

A story Monday in the Cuban state-run Trabajadores newspaper put the total amount ''frozen'' by the U.S. measures at $268 million for 2005 alone but gave no further details. It called the restrictions ''one of the most refined and sweeping'' sections of the U.S. trade embargo on the island.

Trying to deny resources to Cuba's communist system, the Bush administration has long pushed the Treasury Department's Office of Foreign Assets Control, which enforces U.S. sanctions on foreign countries, to keep a more vigilant eye on Havana. So far, much of the focus has centered on restrictions on cultural and academic exchanges and visits by Cuban Americans.

But OFAC also has quietly stepped up its oversight of foreign banks that deal with Cuba, like the giant UBS of Switzerland and HSBC Group of Britain. Since most either have U.S. branches or use the services of U.S.-based companies, they are subject to U.S. embargo laws. Given the U.S. clout in the global marketplace, this has sent shock waves to financial firms that do business with Havana.

''It's very effective,'' said Ignacio Sanchez, a Washington trade attorney with the law firm DLA Piper, noting that most of the world's money flows go through U.S. financial centers.

2004 BEGINNINGS

The opening salvo came in 2004 when UBS was fined $100 million for swapping old U.S. dollar bills with new ones for countries under U.S. sanctions, including Cuba and Iran. This put other banks on notice and helped force Havana to shift its monetary system toward the European Union's euro.

But OFAC appears to have continued to tighten its enforcement. A recent report presented by Cuba to the United Nations complains of a ''marked increase in the pressure on foreign banks'' to cut ties with their Cuban counterparts.

A year ago, the report says, HSBC Group discontinued the dollar and Swiss frank current accounts held by the Cuban banking system. The London-based bank also closed the dollar accounts of Banco Metropolitano de Cuba, which serves foreign diplomats in Havana.

The Canadian subsidiary of HSBC also returned two payments made by Cuba's Banco Internacional de Comercio -- one for C$1 million and the other for 819,000 euros, according to the report.

The November issue of the newsletter Cuba Trade and Investment News -- a Sarasota publication that tracks business trends in Cuba -- said this marked the first major case of a foreign bank refusing to perform nondollar transactions.

France's Natexis Banques Populaires and Trinidad and Tobago's Republic Bank also have declined to deal with Cuban financial entities because of OFAC restrictions, the Cuban report added. In March, the Jamaican branch of Canada's Bank of Nova Scotia refused to serve the Cuban embassy in Kingston.

The report also says Cuba could not pay its fees to the International Union of Telecommunications and World Meteorological Organization, both U.N.-linked multilateral organizations based in Geneva, because UBS -- the bank for both institutions -- refused to receive transfers from Cuba.

ORGANIZATIONS CLOSE

The Havana report added that several Cuban officials working for organizations such as the World Health Organization and the World Food Program also have been told to close their dollar accounts.

Pedro Alvarez, the head of the Cuban food import agency Alimport, has said that the financial restrictions have raised the cost of doing business with the United States by 20 percent and that Cuba would cut its imports of U.S. foodstuff this year.

The U.S. regulatory squeeze on Cuba has never been harsher than under President Bush, and companies are feeling the heat, said Kirby Jones, a consultant who has advised companies wanting to do business with Cuba since the late 1970s.

''They may not like [the regulations] and most don't,'' he said, "but you have to deal with reality.''

U.S. companies are allowed to export agricultural products to Cuba, provided they receive cash payments before the goods are delivered. But even cash payments must move through banks, so the restrictions are giving U.S. corporations headaches. U.S. laws also permit humanitarian shipments and some medical sales to Cuba

Crowley Martime Corp., a shipping company based in Jacksonville, experienced the difficulties firsthand. For several years, the company used the Netherlands Caribbean Bank -- jointly owned by Cuba and the Dutch giant ING Group -- to receive payment from Havana for its services.

''This was a completely above-board operation,'' said Jay Brickman, Crowley's vice president of government services, "OFAC was fully aware of it.''

But earlier this year, he noted, the bank started asking to see Crowley's U.S. license for doing business with Cuba. Crowley mostly ships agricultural products to the island, such as poultry and apples.

Then, in early July, Brickman learned why: The bank had come under OFAC scrutiny. OFAC sent Crowley a letter instructing it to stop using the bank. A few weeks later, OFAC declared the bank as a ''specially designated national.'' Often used against drug traffickers and suspected terrorist networks, the designation prohibits institutions and individuals subject to U.S. laws from dealing with the bank.

''ING is currently reviewing the possible implications of the OFAC designation,'' Nanne Bos, an ING spokesman, told The Miami Herald in an e-mail.

With fewer reputable international financial institutions daring to do business with Cuba, Crowley consulted with OFAC and the Cubans on its payment options. Eventually, the company decided to use its Cuban revenues to cancel some of the debts and bills in Europe.

''It's the hassle factor,'' said John Kavulich, senior policy advisor with the U.S.-Cuba Trade and Economic Council, which tracks bilateral economic relations. "They've coupled rhetoric with enforcement, and it's worked.''

Military leader envisions aiding Cuba in the future

The former Southcom chief said the U.S. military can help train and supply the Cuban military in a democratic future.

By Frances Robles. frobles@MiamiHerald.com. Posted on Wed, Nov. 08, 2006

Calling the Cuban military one of the most respected and strongest of the island's institutions, the former head of the Miami-based Southern Command says the U.S. military is ready to work with, train and supply Cuban soldiers when democracy prevails there.

Army Gen. Bantz J. Craddock, the four-star general who has been confirmed to soon take over NATO operations in Europe, made the points in an academic article outlining the ways the U.S. and Cuban armed forces could work together in humanitarian, counterdrug, counterterrorism and disaster relief operations.

The article mirrors U.S. policy toward Cuba, and in particular the recent Commission for Assistance to a Free Cuba report, but was unusual in that such a high-ranking Army general helped write it.

The article published this month in Cuban Affairs, a University of Miami online journal, was co-authored by Maj. Barbara Fick. Craddock ran U.S. military operations in Latin America and the Caribbean as Southcom chief from 2004 until last month, and Fick serves as Army special assistant to the head of Southcom.

In their article, they underscored that a democratic Cuba could receive the regional military cooperation many countries in the hemisphere now enjoy.

o The Cuban military, known by its Spanish acronym, FAR, could attend U.S. professional military education courses.

o Financing and sales could be offered for equipment modernization and maintenance.

o Cuba's experienced medical community could collaborate with the United States on medical missions.

'A FIRST STEP'

''If the original intent of the Cuban revolution was to bring freedom and equality to all Cubans, then FAR support for a transition to democracy would be a first step towards finally fulfilling that intent,'' the article states.

Any Pentagon planning for a post-Castro Cuba is likely to be informed by the Bush administration decision to dismantle Saddam Hussein's military. Amid the chaos that has erupted in Iraq, critics of U.S. policy have said Washington should have worked with the Iraqi military rather than alienate it.

But U.S. military contacts with Cuban officers are currently taboo, except for a monthly meeting along the fence that separates the U.S. Navy base at Guantánamo from Cuba, where the U.S. base commander meets with a Cuban counterpart to discuss issues of common interest.

''The relationship has been strained,'' Fick said in an interview. "That may be a challenge to reestablish the confidence and trust that a cooperative relationship would require.''

CUBA'S VIEW

The Cuban government has not commented on the Craddock article but would likely view the offers of U.S. collaboration as a slap at the island's sovereignty. ''The Cuban military perceives this kind of talk of assistance and partnerships as a comprehensive effort to destabilize the revolution,'' said Frank Mora, a National War College professor who studies the Cuban military. ''Democracy' is code for 'intervention.' ''

Andy Gómez, senior fellow at the University of Miami institute which published the report, said such a relationship between the Pentagon and Cuba would be mostly for U.S. benefit: They would need the Cuban military's help in avoiding a mass migration crisis.

The article, he added, fails to address variables such as human rights, freedom of political prisoners and elections.

'It interprets things American style: 'We are going to export to you our democratic principles,' Have we learned from Iraq a little bit?'' he said.

'I don't think you can say the Cuban military is going to be willing and ready to say 'Ok, we're going to create a democratic state.' I just don't see Raúl [Castro] picking up the phone and calling Washington.''

Miami Herald staff writer Carol Rosenberg contributed to this report.

Date of Castro's return up in the air

Less than two months ago, Cuban Foreign Minister Felipe Perez Roque said he expected Fidel Castro to be back by December. Monday, he wouldn't discuss when the leader would return.

By Vanessa Arrington, Associated Press. Posted on Tue, Nov. 07, 2006

HAVANA - Cuba's foreign minister stepped away from an earlier assertion that Fidel Castro would return to power in December and declined to say whether the ailing Cuban leader would be well enough to attend next month's celebration of his 80th birthday.

Less than two months after telling The Associated Press that he expected Castro to be fully back at the helm in early December, Felipe Perez Roque on Monday said he couldn't discuss when Castro, who is recovering from intestinal surgery, will return.

''It's a subject on which I don't want to speculate,'' the minister told The AP in an interview. Castro's return, he said, "will come when it's the right moment.''

Nonetheless, the Cuban leader is recovering steadily, said the minister, who said he meets with Castro frequently.

''He looks good. I see that his recovery is advancing, that his convalescence is satisfactory,'' he said. "We are optimistic and happy. The only ones who are sad are our enemies, who were all prepared to celebrate [his death].''

Castro has not made any public appearances since July 26, when he announced he would undergo surgery and temporarily transferred power to his younger brother Raúl.

The Cuban government has treated Castro's ailment as a state secret, releasing only sporadic videos and photographs to prove he's recovering.

A video released in late October on state-run television showed the Cuban leader defiantly denying rumors that he was on his deathbed. Yet some Cubans say they were surprised to see how frail he remained.

Castro turned 80 on Aug. 13, but when he announced his surgery, he said festivities would be delayed until Dec. 2.

Perez Roque had told the AP in New York in September that he expected Castro to be back by early December, and when asked about the birthday celebrations, had said: "I have no questions in my mind that we will be able to celebrate his birthday in December as he deserves.''

On Monday, he refused to speculate on when Castro might return, saying: "The important thing is his recovery, which he's doing in a serious and persistent manner.''

The transfer of power to Raúl Castro went smoothly, and while many Cubans grumble about economic struggles on the island, they have seemed to accept the younger Castro as their leader, albeit temporarily. Perez Roque acknowledged that the Cuban government faces some discontent, and even said some changes could be on the horizon.

''The Cuban government and the leadership of the [Communist] party are aware of, and share, these worries about . . . difficulties with the quality of life of the people,'' he said. "All of our efforts are focused in the direction of finding solutions to these problems.''

While Perez Roque said the U.S. trade embargo is first to blame for scarcity of goods and lack of economic opportunity on the island, he also acknowledged Cuban ''errors'' and "insufficiencies.''

''Does our economy require that we make decisions to change some things, to fix what is wrong? Yes,'' he said. "And it can be done, in the right moment.''

Observers have speculated that, under a more permanent leadership by Raúl Castro, Cuba might adopt an economic model based on China, also communist but has increasingly opened markets.

Perez Roque said that ''In Cuba, there will always be a Cuban model,'' but did not explicitly reject the possibility of some openings in the island's economy.

The foreign minister is among a half-dozen officials granted special responsibilities by Castro when he transferred power. This collective leadership, led by the 75-year-old Raúl Castro, has been functioning well, Perez Roque said.

''For us young ones, it has not only been a privilege but also more schooling,'' said the 41-year-old, who was put in charge of monitoring the budgets for Cuba's health, education and energy programs along with Central Bank President Francisco Soberon and Vice President Carlos Lage, who is 55.

Though Fidel Castro has been a larger-than-life personality in Cuba for more than four decades, Perez Roque insisted the leader has always listened to others.

A little-known tragedy is revisited

A quiet chapter of the Bay of Pigs invasion is being resurrected as part of a planned human rights lawsuit against a Cuban military commander who is blamed for the deaths of nine men.

By Luisa Yanez. lyanez@MiamiHerald.com. Posted on Sun, Nov. 05, 2006

Captured during the failed 1961 Bay of Pigs invasion, more than 100 men and boys, some bleeding from battle wounds, were stuffed into a sealed semi-trailer bound for a prison in Havana.

As they all filed onto the trailer on that scorching hot day, two boys -- Humberto Martinez, 16, and William Muir, 17 -- remember the chilling words of a man they later learned was Osmany Cienfuegos, a Cuban military commander: "If they die in there, that's fine; that way we'll save on bullets.''

Martinez, Muir and the others spent the next eight hours hunched together, shoulder-to-shoulder, in the dark with little air to breathe. Nine died, their bodies found sprawled on the truck's filthy floor.

Today, the little-known story of what happened on April 22, 1961, to a group of men who survived the tragedy is the basis for a lawsuit now being prepared against the Cuban commander who ordered the prisoners into the trailer.

The invasion veterans want their case heard in a Spanish court, which has asserted jurisdiction for retroactive human rights abuses the world over. A similar court indicted former Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet.

They want charges brought solely against Cienfuegos, now in his 70s. Today, he is a respected member of Raúl Castro's inner circle and brother of a famous dead Cuban rebel leader, Camilo Cienfuegos.

''The time has come for Osmany Cienfuegos to pay for what he did to those men,'' said Mario Martinez Malo, member of the veterans of Brigade 2506, who is helping the legal effort abroad.

Martinez Malo said the brigade has hired a Madrid attorney. They recently gathered survivors of the deadly semi-trailer ride to videotape their testimony of their experience that day -- and the role Cienfuegos played.

Among them: Martinez, now 62 and living in Kendall, who said memories of the incident haunt him to this day. He still becomes claustrophobic whenever he gets in a crowded elevator.

''It was one of the most horrible things I have ever experienced in my life,'' Martinez said.

Muir, also 62, a computer consultant from Kendall, also plans to testify as a witness. He, too, rarely speaks of the events inside the trailer.

''I haven't really told my grandkids about it,'' he said.

BRIGHT FUTURES

Martinez and Muir hailed from well-to-do Havana families. Both had bright futures and attended the prestigious Belen Jesuit School.

Martinez's father was a well-known architect; Muir's father, son of Scottish immigrants who settled on the island, was a teacher.

But by May 1960, both their families had fled Cuba to Miami. They believed it would be a brief stay, just until Castro's rule ended.

''We were in Miami just waiting to go back home,'' Martinez said. "We were just passing through.''

Three months later, in August 1960, word spread in Miami's small exile community of a planned CIA-led invasion to the island to overthrow Castro. A recruiting office opened in Little Havana -- all men were welcomed.

Martinez and Muir talked their parents into letting them sign-up for the mission. They were shipped to an invasion boot camp in Guatemala. Two weeks before the planned mission, in mid-April 1961, they gathered in Nicaragua -- the invasion's launching point.

Bad luck followed the two childhood friends. Martinez and Muir were assigned to a transport ship, the Houston.

As the men neared the island and began to leave their boats, the Cuban air force attacked. They fired on the Houston, partially sinking it, and leaving them without weapons, ammunition and food. The group had to swim ashore.

The men of the Houston -- via radio transmissions -- learned the invasion was turning into a flop. They were trapped alone on the other side of the fighting, closed in by mangroves and ocean. They hid for days in the brush.

''There was no food or water. We hardly had clothes,'' Martinez said.

At dusk on April 21, Muir remembers, the men decided to come out from the mangroves to the shoreline. Cuban militiamen soon caught them.

At noon the next day, all the captured men were brought together to be taken to Havana.

Martinez and Muir stood in line waiting to climb on a truck in the caravan that would taken them first to a Havana sports stadium. All were questioned by Commander Cienfuegos, who set up a table and chair by the trucks.

''We were exhausted and depressed. All our hopes of freeing Cuba were by the wayside. We didn't understand why the U.S. air power had not shown up,'' Muir said.

Martinez said he walked up to Cienfuegos, who asked him his profession. He replied: student. Cienfuegos realized he was only 16 and asked him his father's name. Recognizing the boy's family, he told Martinez: "You're that s.o.b.'s son?''

Martinez and Muir were ordered into what they remember as a 35-foot long, 10-foot wide semi-trailer with a door on the side and a cab. Inside, rows and rows of men.

They remember officers warning Cienfuegos that the truck was overloaded and had no ventilation; that the men could die.

'''Let them die; I don't care,''' they recall him saying before the doors shut.

Said Martinez: ''The men were sweating so much that the condensation was accumulating on the roof of the truck and raining down on all of us. It was unbelievable. You couldn't breathe. There was panic. You couldn't move and you could only see the person next to you,'' Martinez said.

''People were wounded and in pain,'' Muir added. "Through it all, we tried to help each other as best we could.''

One man, said Martinez, used the steel tongue of his belt to pry a hole in the truck's side -- where they took turns breathing the outside air.

As the hours passed, the men grew more desperate. At one point they tried to flip the truck over by rocking it side to side. Cuban forces stopped and opened fire atop the truck to stop the uprising.

Hours into the ride, Muir remembers being ankle deep in urine, human waste and sweat. ''That is what I remember most of the experience,'' said Muir, who later served in Vietnam.

When they reached the Havana stadium, men dropped out and fell to their knees with leg cramps. Once in the stadium, Muir said the men had an unexpected visitor: Fidel Castro.

''He asked us who had done this to us, acting all like it was someone else's fault,'' Muir said. "But someone told him it had been Cienfuegos,''

MOST IMPRISONED

Most of the men were sent to Cuban prisons. A year after their capture, they were tried en mass and sentenced.

Martinez and Muir spent their next birthday at El Principe prison. Around Christmas 1963, eighteen months after the invasion, they were among 1,200 prisoners released as part of an agreement between the United States and Cuba. President John F. Kennedy had struck a deal with Fidel Castro that allowed the prisoners to be freed in exchange for $62 million in food and medicine.

The nine men who died inside the trailer were simply listed as being among the 104 who were killed during the invasion.

Today, nearly a half century later, Bay of Pigs veterans have begun speaking openly about the tragedy.

Martinez hopes the lawsuit turns the spotlight on Castro's cruelty to Cubans who opposed his regime. ''I don't think exiles, in all these years, have effectively conveyed that to the rest of the world,'' he said.

Muir has even stronger feelings, especially about Cienfuegos.

"To me, what happened to us was an example of man's inhumanity to man -- and it's on his hands. We don't want it to be forgotten.''

Castro video shows illness is serious

There's no question Fidel Castro is very sick, but the U.S. intelligence community is unsure if he is suffering from cancer.

By Pablo Bachelet And Frances Robles. frobles@MiamiHerald.com. Posted on Fri, Nov. 03, 2006

Fidel Castro's movements are slow and awkward, his speech slow and shaky. His oversized track suit and bathrobe hide any sign of his intestinal surgery, like a colostomy bag. And his own words hint that death remains a possibility.

''I have been saying it for a while -- that the recovery would be prolonged and not exempt of risk. In reality, well, I'm coming along just as it had been foreseen,'' Castro said in a video released Saturday before adding, "But I'm not worried. I have no fear of what may happen.''

But three months after the 80-year-old Cuban leader temporarily ceded presidential powers to his brother Raúl following ''complicated'' surgery, the exact details of his illness remain Cuba's most closely guarded secret -- and the subject of widespread rumors and speculation.

The latest Castro video aired on Cuban TV served as a ''proof of life'' of sorts. Rumors that he had died last week were churning so briskly that even Castro felt he had to respond. Prior to Saturday's video, more than a month had passed since any photos of the Cuban leader had been made public, adding fuel to the rumor fires.

Contacto, a bilingual magazine out of California, reported on its website two weeks ago that sources ''close to the circle of power'' in Cuba had said he was in a coma. Time magazine last month cited anonymous U.S. sources saying some in the Bush administration are convinced Castro has terminal cancer.

''Now let's see what they say. Now they'll have to resuscitate me, huh?'' Castro said in the video. "They're making fools of themselves.''

Since announcing on July 31 that intestinal bleeding had required surgery, the government of Cuba has offered only a handful of photos and videos of Castro, and nothing other than verbal reassurances that he's recovering.

Yet the images released over the past three months show Castro in an apparent slow decline. He has acknowledged losing 41 pounds, but then said he regained about half of that.

His bulky track suit and bathrobe -- he has yet to appear in regular clothes -- always cover up his midsection, leaving open the possibility that he's been fitted with a colostomy bag. But he still sports a full head of hair and a beard, suggesting he has not undergone chemotherapy.

EXTENDED RECOVERY

The latest video showed him doing what appeared to be walk-in-place exercises, slowly swinging his elbows as his slippered feet, set wide, marked time but did not move forward.

That ''is exactly what you would have expected for somebody who has been ill for an extended period of time, who has not been active,'' said University of Miami gastroenterologist Dr. Jeffrey Raskin. "You have a wide-based gait to steady yourself because you're weak. . . . Probably in his own environment, he's walking around with a walker.''

Raskin and Dr. Charles Gerson, a gastroenterologist at Mount Sinai in New York, both said that Castro's three-months-and-counting recovery suggest a serious illness, such as cancer.

''Usually for a benign condition if you have surgery, after a month or six weeks you are back to normal,'' Gerson said. "Three months after surgery, he should be better.''

The U.S. intelligence community believes Castro is ''gravely ill'' but lacks any hard evidence that he has terminal cancer, several officials said on the condition of anonymity because of the sensitivity of the issue.

A former U.S. government official, who requested anonymity to avoid jeopardizing his contacts with the Bush administration, said Washington has obtained what he called ''pretty reliable'' accounts that indicate Castro is not recovering as well as Cuba claims.

''The latest I've heard was still pretty grave for Castro,'' the former official said, adding that he has not been told the nature of Castro's ailment. "Castro may not make it through the New Year.''

U.S. intelligence still believes that Castro is suffering from Parkinson's disease, a degenerative neurological disorder, as first reported by The Miami Herald last year.

One well-connected South American official consulted by The Miami Herald said his country's intelligence service indeed believes that Castro has a slow-progressing cancer. It was unclear how the agency has come to believe this, and the official's report could not be independently confirmed.

'RESTING A BIT'

Cuban officials continue to insist at every turn that Castro is recovering, and preparations are reported to be continuing to celebrate his birthday. He turned 80 on Aug. 13 but celebrations, including a military parade and massive rally, were put off until Dec. 2 because of the surgery.

''He is well. He's been resting a bit because of the operation he had,'' Castro's other brother, Ramón Castro, 82, told the Associated Press this week. "It's been published that he's going to start working again. We're trying to hold him back a bit longer, though.''

But even if he officially resumes his jobs as president and head of the Cuban Communist Party, U.S. officials say they remain convinced that he will not be able to physically command Cuba as he had for nearly five decades.

McClatchy Washington Bureau Chief John Walcott, Miami Herald staff writer Jacob Goldstein and Miami Herald translator Renato Pérez contributed to this report.

Cuba by the book: A coffee-table tome raises the genre to a new level

By Enrique Fernandez, efernandez@MiamiHerald.com. Posted on Thu, Nov. 09, 2006

I knew trendiness had hit Havana like a South Beach tsunami that night in the summer of '98 when I couldn't get into La Guarida because Jack Nicholson and his entourage had booked the joint.

I was in the city doing stories, and one on them was on paladares, the home restaurants that were flourishing under a new law that allowed tiny manifestations of private enterprise. La Guarida (the lair) was the name the protagonist of the hit film Strawberry and Chocolate gave his digs, and the owners of the shabby/elegant Centro Habana apartment where it had been shot turned the place into a paladar that had become the new hot spot. Hot enough for Jack; too hot for me.

La Guarida is featured in Eating Cuban: 120 Authentic Recipes from the Streets of Havana to American Shores by Beverly Cox and Martin Jacobs (Stewart, Tabori & Chang, $37.50), a new entry that marks a peak in the minor industry of Cuban cookbooks: our first coffee-table book. Well-researched, lavishly photographed and elegantly laid out, Eating Cuban provides history and recipes on Cuban cuisine both in and out of the island -- La Guarida is represented, but so is our own Versailles coffee shop.

Many of the Cuban cookbooks on the market are nostalgic memoirs. The best of them is Viviana Carballo's recent Havana Salsa (Simon & Schuster, $24), which was written not by a society doyenne recalling grand old parties but by a professionally trained chef and proficient food writer who comes from a truly eccentric family -- her dad was a famous astrologer who began his career by quite literally running away with the circus.

The summer also yielded a second volume from the jovial Three Guys From Miami, who, unfettered by nostalgia, embrace the Miami ethos of party, party, party. In Celebrate Cuban (Gibbs Smith, $29.95), historical authenticity is less important than rocking on.

Eating Cuban looks at the island's cuisine from the perspective of serious food journalism. If a dish has Amerindian roots or is dedicated to one of the deities of Santería, the information will be there. If the best Cuban sandwich is to be found in neither Havana nor Miami but in Tampa, a Tampa eatery will be the source. And the authors recognize the nuevo cubano trend, the transposition of techniques and attitudes from nouvelle cuisine and New American cooking to Cuban dishes and ingredients.

The book begins by telling us that ' 'Cuba is an ajiaco' is an old saying.'' Well, yes, but it's important to acknowledge who said it: Fernando Ortiz, father of modern Cuban intellectual life. Perhaps it was already an old saying in the first years of the 20th century when Ortiz pronounced it, but I doubt it.

Ortiz, an anthropologist and sociologist, was taking a native dish not far from the New England boiled dinner, the Spanish cocido or the French pot-au-feu, and using it as a metaphor for the layering and blending of cultures in his native island.

Ají, an Indian word for chile, was used by the pre-Columbian inhabitants in a soupy stew fortified by tubers like yuca and native protein sources like reptiles and rodents. Spaniards brought with them the larger food animals used in today's ajiaco, beef and pork, and, even as they decimated the native population, they banished the native ají and replaced it with the bland bell pepper. African slaves and French exiles from Haiti's slave revolution contributed new ingredients, as did Chinese laborers.

A protocol of fast boils and slow simmers and, presto!, ajiaco, served every Monday in Miami's Cuban restaurants, according to tradition.

Ortiz was far less interested in a recipe than in the dish's symbolic power. Indeed, he was right in calling his compatriots' attention -- in an essay on the island's African population -- to the messy mix of the ajiaco and our culture. In that same text, Ortiz wrote: "there is no such thing as race.''

But right after the ajiaco, the authors of Eating Cuban give us the recipe for caldo gallego, a dish with as much symbolic resonance as Ortiz's ajiaco. It is totally Spanish: no Indian, African, Chinese or even French touches. And the very word gallego, which means a native of the Spanish province of Galicia, is what Cubans and other Latin Americans call all Spaniards. Caldo gallego, then, is the quintessence of Cuba's Spanishness, its whiteness.

As whites elsewhere in the Caribbean fled to Cuba to escape slave rebellions and immigrants from impoverished Spain (particularly its poorest province, Galicia) arrived, the island became the whitest in the Caribbean. That whiteness is even higher in el exilio, which was, if looked at through a racial prism, white flight. Thus, caldo gallego is the antithesis of the miscegenated ajiaco, and reflective of the racial issues faced by both the revolution and el exilio.

Still, Eating Cuban does include a dish like Duck Yemayá, devoted to one of the orishas, the Yoruba deities of Santeria, though I would have liked more of that. I loved seeing a pumpkin soup from the wonderful La Esperanza paladar, as well as that Cuban sandwich from Tampa, where Spaniards who had emigrated to work in the cigar industry began piling the fiambres (cold cuts) and cheeses of their native land inside loaves of bread, creating a classic.

Another classic is Elena Ruz, named after a pepilla (a trendy chick) who used to hang around the Havana society coffee shop, El Carmelo, where it originated. Packing thinly sliced turkey, cream cheese and strawberry jam, usually grilled until it all melts inside in a heady mix of saltiness, sweetness and creaminess, the Elena Ruz is an experience that should not be deconstructed in a family newspaper.

Hemingway's daiquiri is also here, a sugarless drink for an alcoholic watching his weight, as is the classic daiquiri, both in its original straight-up version and the frozen one, which was the invention of the El Floridita bar, where Papa avoided sugar but sucked booze.

As befits the sugar-obsessed nature of all sugar-cane cultures, there are plenty of desserts (though not as blatantly as in the Three Guys' Celebrate Cuban, which starts its engine with a chapter of dessert recipes). And there's a chapter devoted to New Wave cooking.

We're at La Guarida, with its chicken crepes. The recipe takes two full pages and the presentation is, well, nuevo cubano. Trouble is, who gets to eat this?

The authors do not shy from discussing the difficulties Cubans have finding foodstuffs -- not even chefs can get the right ingredients. And how the diversion of Cuban agriculture to export has made the fertile island poor in native products. But in Miami, Cuban-Americans will tell you these difficulties have political roots, with names and surnames.

Many a Cuban exile will go postal at the sight of the Lobster in Spicy Tomato Sauce, knowing that lobster is reserved for the island's elite. Eating Cuban says it ''is not officially on the menu'' of paladares, but ''is often offered verbally as a special.'' An illegal special, they neglect to add.

Still, Cuban roguery is at least as old as the island's 500 year-old Spanish history. You want lobster? No problem. Fernando Ortiz, who wrote books on the culture of roguery, would have a field day in today's Cuba.

Finally, one must ask, is this beautiful, well-researched, gorgeously photographed, lovingly laid-out cookbook worth it? Is Cuban food deserving of such golden treatment?

Years ago, having eaten my share of Dominican and Puerto Rican food, I began wondering if, of all the Spanish Caribbean cuisines, ours might not be the least impressive.

I shared my doubt, like a sinner in a confessional, with a Cuban gastronome of serious credentials, and the expert said, you're right. Cuban food is no big deal. The Puerto Ricans and Dominicans do it better -- keeping in mind that our cuisines are quite similar.

With time, and now with exile here and deprivation there, we have neglected our regional recipes in favor of the same old, same old you can find in any Miami Cuban restaurant or home. Oh, there are cooks who remember how to make pescado en salsa de perro (literally, fish in dog sauce) or pastelón camagüeyano (chicken pie): I have tasted a glorious version of the latter made by a woman from an old Camagüey family, and as for the fish dish, mine kicks butt. But I confess I eat Cuban food for the same reason so many Miami Cubans do: when I get the jones.

Some years ago, my friend Marilú Menéndez turned her New York apartment into a salon for Cuban artists, and she cooked, motivated by a passion even more obsessive than nostalgia. Her ropa vieja, a war horse of a Cuban dish if there was ever one, was sublime. And her harina con cangrejo, a kind of polenta with spicy crab meat swirled into it, was proof of a text Marilú had emblazoned on the wall, by Cuban writer and Paris ex-pat Severo Sarduy, which began: "We never left.''

That is, of course, what irks our ''Anglo'' neighbors. Sure, all ethnics eat their cuisines; otherwise we would have no Chinese or Italian restaurants. But, though they have suffered from nostalgia, they knew this move was permanent. We Cubans never left, even if, like Sarduy, we die outside the homeland.

We never left, and to prove it, we're going to do the only thing one can really do with our beautiful, wretched island: Eat it. Eat every seductive morsel of it until there's a caiman-shaped void in the Caribbean and a libidinous taste in our mouths we will carry to our graves.

PRINTER FRIENDLY