Irving Louis Horowitz. Published Monday, April 24, 2000, in the Miami Herald
Irving Louis Horowitz is the Hannah Arendt distinguished professor emeritus of political science and sociology at Rutgers University and co-editor of Cuban Communism.
``God brought him to us for the hope of Cuba'' opines young Jimmy Farfan outside the residence of Elian Gonzalez. Whether it is God, the infant Moses, the baby Jesus or none of the above, it is evident that an event tantamount to a national crisis has played out in Miami.
This story of two Cubas hardly could be etched with greater simplicity. It is as if all sides realize that something quite beyond the fate of one boy is being determined.
More nearly, it is the fate of one people living in two distinct communities under radically polarized conditions. In all the scenario building by those presumably knowledgeable about Cuban society, I know of none that linked the fate of the Cuban dictatorship -- and for that matter, a little
bit of American democracy -- with that of a 6-year-old child who lost his mother and until now was without his father, and whose future is rooted in the affairs of nation-state politics.
THE SHAMELESS TIMES
The New York Times has leapt into this agonizing affair with its customary assuredness of liberal purpose. The more exposed the totalitarian character of the Cuban regime, the higher that newspaper ratchets up its powerful convictions that the boycott against Cuba should be lifted, unilateral
``normalization of economic relations should commence'' and political contacts should be elevated to what exists among friendly states.
But The Times of April 1 takes the prize in blurring any distinction between news and editorials in a front page article by Rick Bragg arguing that the situation ``highlights a virtual secession of Miami.'' There has not been a single slogan raised of secession. Indeed, the defenders of Elian
argue the reverse, that it is only within the bosom of the United States that the boy can expect some semblance of normality. Not a single voice has been raised in support of violence, other than the violence that ensues from a Martin Luther King Jr. defense of the free conscience.
Miami is different. It has a special local culture that is distinct, but no more so than New Orleans or Berkeley, Calif. These differences at times do pit the city against state -- and even against nation. But unlike calls for separation from the United States by the white supremacists in
Alabama, they simply never rise to the level of secession in intent or ideology. The struggle over Elian's fate, involving jurisdictional as well as moral concerns, is not an effort to subvert U.S. law, but to demonstrate just who it is that defines and carries out such law.
The final piece of the puzzle is the demonizing of Miami's Cuban community for its anti-communist posture. It would seem that far from being a bona fide part of the 20th Century American experience, the ``Miami Mafia'' now is pictured as the enemy, The outsider, precisely because of the vigor of
its position.
The comments of Lisandro Perez, head of Cuban research at Florida International University, at least had the merit of defining the issues sharply. Arguing that the position of the Cuban-American community ``will have a negative implication'' to those sitting in Middle America, he went on to
state the community has ``been spoiled by the U.S. government in the past. Look at the record. They've gotten television stations, radio stations, to broadcast their message to Cuba.'' But that message is simply the same as what was broadcast through Radio Free Europe: a message of hope to those
trapped under the yoke of communism and a warning that Americans can be counted upon to support the cause of democratic rule.
As the Elian matter evolves, it becomes increasingly clear that the ``Cuba lobby'' and its strange band of congressional supporters and leftist apologists simply want business as usual with Castro. They see this as an extraordinary opportunity to drive a fatal wedge between the Cuban community
-- the most successful Latin American group in North American society -- and the American people.
A POLITICAL PAWN
The use of a child as a political pawn is a grave personal catastrophe. The denial that he is such a pawn would be a political blunder on the part of all concerned. The fate of Elian is a sad item in the mosaic of everyday life. But it is unfortunately just such quirky details that give meaning
to the phrase ``symbolic politics.'' The Cuban-American community understands well that this is a defining moment in its strange encounter with a benevolent new homeland.
This remarkable community of unusual solidarity and high economic and educational achievement is not a ``Mob.'' Communities, no less than individuals, always are free to choose their battles. It might well be that Elian is returned to the isle of sorrow known as Cuba. It might well be that the
rule of American law is understood to apply to all citizens, including Cuban Americans.
FEDERAL POWER WILL WIN
The overwhelming power of the federal government doubtlessly wins the custody battle in the short run.
When Elian becomes a man and the nightmare of Castroism is a long, dark cloud on an earlier epoch, he can determine for himself where he wants to live and with whom. But to return Elian Gonzalez to Cuba under the threat of American arms may do little for the rule of law; it certainly will do
much for the force of arms.
To satisfy the cynical agenda of a dictator who has seized a strategic opportunity to drive a wedge between Cuban Americans and all others would be a far-reaching tragedy.
However, it is a tragedy in the making. The incapacity of the Cuban-American community to mobilize the American people as a whole to its cause makes such an outcome just about certain. The long-run consequences remain far from certain.
Copyright 2000 Miami Herald |