Published Thursday, June 28, 2001 in the
The Miami Herald
Dissident skeptical on 'Castroism without Castro'
Does Fidel Castro's near-collapse as he gave a speech under a searing sun
last weekend signal that the 74-year-old leaders' days in power are numbered?
Will there be a "Castroism without Castro'' after his death?
This week I posed these questions to Cuba's best-known dissident, Elizardo Sánchez,
head of Cuba's Commission of Human Rights and National Reconciliation. He has
been in Miami since the death of his son in May, and plans to return to Cuba
shortly.
Sánchez, 57, a former professor of philosophy who still considers
himself a socialist -- "I am too old to change'' he quips -- is one of the
founders of Cuba's human rights movement. His opposition to Castro's
dictatorship has cost him eight years in prison, while his condemnation of the
U.S. trade embargo on Cuba drew criticism from hard-line Cuban exile leaders in
Miami.
"I don't wish anybody's death, not even those who persecuted and put me
in prison in Cuba,'' he told me, referring to last weekend's episode. "Rather,
I look at Cuba with anxiety.''
"The country is in ruins. The most optimistic in Miami say the
reconstruction will take a few years, but I think it may be a matter of 10 to 20
years . . . Cuba has one of the world's highest per capita foreign debts: we owe
$11 billion to Western countries, and more than $20 billion to Russia. What's
worse, it will be very difficult to restore certain key values, such as the
importance of work as a source of well-being, and political tolerance.''
Last weekend's incident will trigger "deep reflections'' within Cuba's
nomenklatura, because "it is evidence that this is the final phase,'' he
said. Asked about predictions that after Castro's death his brother Raúl
Castro or others will lead a "Castroism without Castro,'' he reacted with
skepticism.
"That phenomenon could happen, but it would be a very rare historical
exception. It is a proven fact that when the days of charismatic caudillos are
over, their ideologies are also over. The current political model, which we
could define as tropical totalitarianism, is in its final phase, although this
phase could stretch out for another two, five or eight years.''
Sánchez says the situation in Cuba is so dramatic that he supports "any
formula that would lead to bring to an end as soon as possible the Cuban
nation's agony,'' even if that means making a deal "with Satan himself.''
The best thing Washington and Latin American countries could do is start
preparing for a post-Castro Cuba, he said. "There should be a Marshall-type
plan to start the reconstruction of Cuba, which has been devastated by 40 years
of totalitarian inefficiency. Since this will take time, the sooner we start the
process, the better.''
I noted that current U.S. law prohibits ending the trade embargo or
assisting Cuba until after Castro and his cronies have left power, and that many
U.S. officials are are wondering why should Washington help an agonizing
totalitarian regime.
Sánchez did not go into details, but I sensed that he does not oppose
gradualism, or tit-for-tat conditions on aid to Cuba. "I'm talking about a
dual process, which would include the gradual dismantling of the totalitarian
model, and the equally gradual lifting of unilateral sanctions.''
But Sánchez says the current Helms-Lieberman bill to provide $100
million to Cuban dissidents on the island is "a political blunder.''
"First, money doesn't bring about freedom. Second, this has only helped
the totalitarian regime, giving it new excuses to step up political repression
against us.'' In Poland, U.S. aid worked because it was given out discreetly. In
Cuba, "they want to do it with a municipal bank,'' he said.
Sánchez said Cuba's dissident movement has grown from less than ten
activists in the eighties to "several thousands'' today. Asked what
percentage of them he believes are government infiltrators, he responded: "There
is a partial number of police infiltration, which is of between 1 and 5
percent.''
Interesting. I especially agree with Sanchez's skepticism about the "Castroism
without Castro'' scenario. Fascism did not survive Benito Mussolini in Italy,
Francoism did not survive Francisco Franco in Spain, and Castroism is not likely
to survive Castro in Cuba.
Thirty years of Cuban flavor
Versailles celebrates anniversary
By Paul Brinkley-Rogers. pbrinkley-rogers@herald.com.
LANDMARK: Above, Felipe Valls Jr., left, president and CEO of Versailles,
shares the restaurant's 30th anniversary with his father. Below, Zoraida 'Tia'
Hernandez, 69, who with 30 year on the job is the longest-serving waitress,
waltzed up to founder Felipe Valls Sr, also 69, on Wednesday, kissed him and
made him blush.
Its name -- Versailles -- speaks of grandeur, but the Little Havana
restaurant celebrating its 30th anniversary Wednesday is not a palace, although
more than any other Miami dining spot, it's for Cuban Americans the place to
eat, talk and be seen.
Romance. Deal-making. Politics. Gossip. Intrigue. They all happen here at
the sprawling stucco complex with its separate bakery, outdoor coffee stand and
vast dining area, with 350 seats surrounded by mirrored walls and lit by
glistening chandeliers right out of a Las Vegas gambling joint.
Although Felipe Valls Jr., 42, president and CEO of Versailles, says
blandly, "We don't allow campaigning inside the restaurant per se,'' more
than one -- and probably hundreds -- of politicians have chosen Versailles as a
place to glad-hand. That includes local types like Miami Mayor Joe Carollo,
Hialeah Mayor Raul Martinez and Miami-Dade County Mayor Alex Penelas.
This week, U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft -- shadowed by reporters and
TV cameras -- had a private lunch with Cuban-American leaders. Former President
Bill Clinton stopped by to thank "those members of the Cuban community that
had voted for him -- the few,'' Valls said, "and then popped in two more
times for coffee.''
Almost every Florida governor and congressional type of the last three
decades has tasted grilled palomilla steak and masitas de puerco, fried pork
chunks.
Asked about the fact that so many politicians haunt the place but
campaigning is not permitted, Valls grinned: "We don't put up any
billboards. . . . But the politicians -- they like to be seen here.''
For the common man in search of good food and conversation, Versailles is
paradise, but not an expensive one.
"The presence of politicians does not necessarily cause indigestion,''
said Hector Ramirez, 53, who was munching plantain pie with picadillo, price
$6.45.
"I met my wife for the first time here,'' said insurance agent Antonio
Miranda, 42, seated at one of the formica-topped, cafeteria-style tables. "I
first told her I loved her here. At lunch, I do business. I put away the ropa
vieja [shredded beef]. And then I come back at night, after we go dancing, for
dessert and very good coffee.''
Alma Lucero, 42, says she stops by two or three times a week.
"Oh, this is where my girlfriends and I can laugh and cry,'' she said.
Cry?
"Yes, because after lunch or dinner, then we have to worry about our
waistlines, especially when dessert is flan with coconut,'' she said.
For members of the Valls family, Wednesday's anniversary was like a nonstop
party. Green and yellow paper streamers and balloons fluttered in the air.
Zoraida "Tia'' Hernandez, 69, who with 30 years on the job is the
longest-serving waitress, waltzed up to Versailles founder Felipe Valls Sr.,
also 69, kissed him and made him blush.
Teams of busy waiters wearing green vests and gold party hats, and
waitresses in white feather tiaras, delivered steaming dishes to customers.
When they filed past the Valls table at the rear of the restaurant near the
kitchen, many stopped by to congratulate father and son.
The way Felipe Jr. tells it, his dad -- a native of Santiago de Cuba -- was
penniless when he fled Cuba in 1960 for Miami, right after Fidel Castro won his
revolution. The elder Valls owned a big Texaco gas station, a nightclub called
El Lido and a Hatuey beer bottling plant, all of which was good, except that the
new government vowed to nationalize private businesses.
"We came here and stayed with relatives,'' Felipe Jr. said. "I was
2, and I basically slept in a drawer. My parents slept on a mattress on the
floor. Dad washed dishes at a hotel on Miami Beach, and mom worked, too. It was
difficult to find jobs and housing. Anglos were worried about what was
happening.''
But eventually Felipe Sr. "got a job with a nice Jewish fellow on North
Miami Avenue who sold used restaurant equipment. This gave him the idea to
import espresso machines from Europe, but the owner was doubtful, so dad had to
finance it. He was a good salesman, and they started selling right away.''
The Cuban community was rapidly expanding, and soon, Felipe Sr. was setting
up Cuban-style outdoor coffee stands around town. He started Badia's Restaurant
at Eighth Street and 16th Avenue. Then came the beginnings of Versailles, a cafe
with 60 seats, at its present location on Calle Ocho and 35th Avenue. It sits in
a small shopping mall that is now the headquarters of the Versailles business
empire, which also includes eight La Carreta restaurants and Casa Juancho, which
serves Spanish cuisine.
"Friends and business people told him he was crazy to put a Cuban
restaurant so far out here away from downtown,'' Felipe Jr. said. "But look
at it now.''
As Valls talked, TV cameras filmed the noisy lunch-time crowd. An NBC crew
was there looking for local reaction to an interview the network had aired that
morning from Cuba with Juan Miguel González, the father of little Elián.
Other reporters waited their turn, and outside, Spanish-language radio
stations asked a crowd for its opinion.
"You get used to this,'' he said.
Copyright 2001 Miami Herald |