By David Cázares. Web-posted: 12:03 a.m. Apr. 30, 2000
MIAMI -- This time there were no images of police in riot gear. No roving bands of young people setting tires ablaze. No screams from anguished protesters scrambling from tear gas or pepper spray.
On Saturday, more than 100,000 Cuban-Americans and others expressed their collective pain in a calm and dignified manner along Southwest Eighth Street, the heart of Miami's Little Havana neighborhood. The sea of demonstrators was there to object to the way Elián González was
removed by federal agents on April 22 from the home of his Miami relatives, and to draw attention to the battle to free Cuba.
Cuban exile leaders, who promoted the demonstration on Spanish-language radio, had asked for a peaceful march. It was not attended by Lázaro González, the great-uncle who wants to keep Elián in the United States, or his daughter, Marisleysis.
A religious tone
Seeking to repair damage to the image of Cuban-Americans that may have been caused by the protests that erupted after Elián's removal, organizers of the rally included religious leaders from the city's black and white communities.
The rally's religious tone also lent credence to the moral crusade Cuban-Americans are waging against Fidel Castro -- a struggle exile leaders fervently want others to recognize.
The Rev. Francisco Santana, the Catholic priest who has been the spiritual adviser to Elián's Miami relatives, said the city's Cubans understand the pain of Miami's other residents, including blacks who had long suffered discrimination and prejudice and are still fighting for equality.
But he prayed that others would make an equal effort to learn about the Cuban cause.
"Lord, this afternoon, we poor Cubans ask that they understand our pain," Santana said. "That they understand that no one wants to leave his country, and no one should be told to forget. That they understand that behind the face of Elián González lies the tragedy
of all of the Cuban people."
Other speakers used the demonstration as a chance to decry what happened to Elián while spreading their message that Cuba's government is criminal. They said the Cuban exile struggle is made more difficult by an uncaring world.
At Fourth Avenue, a huge banner over the main stage reminded everyone of the day's message: Justicia Para Elián. Libertad Para Cuba. (Justice for Elián. Freedom for Cuba.)
That was a far cry from the message of last weekend, when, in the hours after the raid, thousands of angry protesters hit the streets in a wave of civil unrest that sparked violent clashes with police.
The protesters set more than 200 small fires, and there were more than 350 arrests.
Afterward, Gov. Jeb Bush said he was troubled that televised reports of the protests had damaged the image of both Miami and Cuban-Americans. Indeed, for the past several days a backlash of messages portraying Cubans as unruly and anti-American could be seen and heard on the airwaves and in
the streets.
In the days that followed, Cuban-American leaders, politicians and the clergy called for a massive, orderly display that would vent outrage over the federal government's action.
"Today we're going to make history," said Alberto Hernandez, chairman of the Cuban American National Foundation. "The Cuban people are going to demonstrate decently."
The day's events went according to plan.
After police blocked off 23 blocks of Eighth Street, the demonstrators, many dressed in black and waving Cuban and American flags, marched down the street. Police reported no arrests, and uniformed officers at Southwest 17th and 22nd avenues were greeted warmly by many demonstrators.
Police, who for days had battled charges of brutality while handling last week's protests, generally kept a low profile. Most uniformed officers were stationed a block away on Seventh and Ninth streets. Plainclothes officers worked the crowd, which showed no signs of animosity toward them.
Both the Star Spangled Banner and the Cuban National Anthem were played over speakers while a mixed crowd of older Cuban exiles, young people who likely describe themselves as Cuban-Americans, and non-Cubans voiced similar opinions.
"I've never demonstrated before," said Elena Michol, 42, of Kendall, who was there with her parents. "I'm an American, but I feel so strongly that Elián was mistreated by this country that I came out today."
'A funeral for freedom'
Miriam Duque, 34, a native of the Dominican Republic who lives in the southwest Miami-Dade neighborhood of Westchester, agreed. She said that's why she wanted to express solidarity with her Cuban-American neighbors.
"I don't agree with how that family was treated," Duque said. "They only wanted the best for that boy and they (federal agents) treated them like dogs."
Some of the demonstrators carried signs that read "This march is a funeral for freedom" or "He's not going back to a loving father; he's going back to a triumphant Castro."
Many, like Hilda Grao-Martinez, were there precisely because they believe Elián's case highlights the familial divisions caused by the crisis over Cuba.
"Castro's been separating parents from children since 1959," said Grao-Martinez, who was there with her sons Jonathon, 7, and Justin, 6. She said her father, a military officer, was killed by Castro's forces. "I never met my dad and I hold him (Castro) responsible for that,"
she said.
Loudspeakers at the entrance of Mi Casa Muebleria, at 22nd Avenue, broadcast the speeches. Nearby, three elderly sisters sat in wheelchairs on the side of the road.
Laudelina Pedrosa, 84, held a boom box on her lap. She waved at passers-by and said she had come because she is part of "the struggle." In 1960, she said, armed soldiers took her from her home in Cuba and she was held as a political prisoner for more than a year.
Feelings of betrayal
With a large American flag hanging from her neck, Pedrosa's daughter, Marta Beatriz Pedrosa, 45, said she will never forget the day her mother was taken away, just as she believes Elián will never forget the Little Havana raid.
"For the rest of my life, I've dreamt about the woman -- it was a woman soldier -- who put a machine gun to my head," she said.
What the U.S. government did in Elián's case, she said, was worse.
"We don't expect it from the government here," she said. "We've been so betrayed."
Still, the younger Pedrosa said she was almost grateful to President Clinton because his actions have inspired activism among the younger generation of Cubans. Her mother's generation may be dying out, she said, but the young people will keep the fight going.
One woman walked down the street holding her sign up for bystanders to see. It read, "Gore, don't even bother in November, we will remember!"
Not everyone who made a statement on Saturday opposed the government's action.
An airplane flew over Little Havana dragging a banner that said: "America Loves Janet Reno." Behind another plane was a banner that read: "Don't Fight Your Battles Here. Go Home and Fight Your War." Some in the crowd below shook their fists. Others yelled: "Shoot them
down!"
Mostly, however, the demonstrations were a chance for Cuban-Americans to show they could disagree with their government without disturbing the peace of the larger community.
"The national press has decided to ridicule us," Miami-Dade County Mayor Alex Penelas said. "They say we are a violent community. "There's no need to be afraid," he said. "This is a peaceful community."
For the demonstrators, Elián's fate is inextricably linked to the fight over Cuba. The 6-year-old, they say, gives them a chance to remind the world. That's what led about 100 of them to the house where Elián spent nearly five months.
"We're here to keep the flame alive," said Livian Peralta, 34, of Plantation. "We feel pain. We feel disgusted with the U.S. government. But we're showing our government that we're united. And we're asking to be heard."
Staff Writers Mileydi Guilarte, Rafael Olmeda, Tanya Weinberg and Luisa Yanez contributed to this report.
David Cázares can be reached at dcazares@sun-sentinel.com or 305-810-5012. |