Pedro A. Freyre. Published Wednesday, May 3, 2000, in the Miami Herald
Wind the clock back to 7 a.m., Saturday, April 22, 2000. In front of the Gonzalezes' home in Little Havana, Carlos Saladrigas, Carlos de la Cruz, Aaron Pudhurst and Tad Foote make the following announcement.
``Ladies and gentlemen, we are pleased to an- nounce that after arduous negotiations, the Gonzalez family -- Lazaro, Marisleysis, Juan Miguel and Elian -- will be reunited at a convent in Palm Beach County. Although legal custody of Elian will be immediately transferred to his father, the boy
will spend time with his Miami family at this secluded location during the pendency of the appeal process.
``The only other parties present will be a child psychologist, a Catholic priest and an experienced family mediator. The security of the meeting place will be guaranteed by federal marshals. We ask the press to refrain from interrupting the family's privacy while they work out their
differences.''
That same afternoon, the Gonzalez family leaves for the convent. The cameras show the exit route from Miami; it's lined with festive crowds of Cuban Americans waiving the flags of both countries and holding signs that say: ``Elian, Miami te quiere.'' (Elian, Miami loves you).
Unfortunately, the reality is that in the early morning hours of that unholy Saturday, the Cuban-American community, as loyal an immigrant group as has ever reached our shores, learned that while America, its beloved adopted land, is a magnificent country, its politicians oftentimes are
incapable of delivering fairness and justice.
In three violent minutes, the Clinton administration and Attorney General Janet Reno broke faith with Cuban Americans from all walks of life.
Miami has been left in disarray, and dormant ethnic tensions have surfaced with a vengeance.
There are painful lessons inflicted upon people who step in to do right thing and get misused and abused.
There are sobering lessons for all, lessons that require searing honesty and soul-searching to absorb.
There are crash courses in humility, delivered at dawn by a man in fatigues with a machine gun.
There are vacuums of leadership that get exposed in trying times.
There are vast chasms in the way an ethnic group perceives itself and the way it's perceived by its neighbors.
The humiliating events endured by Cuban Americans on April 22 were not the sole and exclusive responsibility of the president and the attorney general; we Cuban Americans must accept some of the blame for allowing events to spin out of control.
But this, too, shall pass. As the adage says, what does not kill you makes you stronger. Perhaps now we will step up to the plate and separate local political issues from Cuba policy. Perhaps we will develop stronger bonds of empathy with our neighbors and they in turn will see in us their own
losses and rites of passage.
Perhaps all of us, privileged to share this magic plot of land that we call Miami, will nod with sad wisdom as we see each other in the street as if saying: ``I know what you're going through, neighbor.''
I pray that it will be so.
Pedro A. Freyre is chairman of Facts About Cuban Americans.
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