Max Castro. Published Tuesday, July 3, 2001.
The Miami Herald
Forgive me for taking up the subject this late, but I was in New York City
at a conference when word came of Fidel Castro's latest departure. I missed the
latest outbreak of frenzied anticipation and speculation that takes place each
time Fidel dies, comes close to dying or is diagnosed with a fatal illness --
events that happen every two or three years in Miami. This time it looked so
real and the local media coverage was so intense it took a week to catch up.
In case you don't believe me about Castro's repeated near-death experiences,
you can look it up:
In the spring of 1994, Fidel's death was so imminent that the Cuban
American National Foundation held a press conference to announce its readiness
to take part in a transition. Then Castro showed up at a Havana conference
attended by hundreds of overseas Cubans.
In 1996, an exile activist made the front pages when he announced that he
had credible information that Castro was suffering from terminal lung cancer and
had less than two years to live. You can do the math.
On Sunday July 19, 1998, readers of El Nuevo Herald woke up to a banner
headline: Castro's doctor speaks. The story was based on the testimony of a
Cuban neurosurgeon, Elizabeth Trujillo, who recently had treated Castro for a
near-fatal condition. Or so she said.
During the ensuing week, her tale unraveled; every one of Trujillo's
statements was proved to be false. She turned out to be a failed nursing student
and skilled con artist.
Now, once again, reports of Castro's death appear to be premature. Castro's
recent fainting spell looks to be no more than a heat stroke, although it's
possible that it could be a sign of a serious condition. What is clear, however,
after the multiple instances of Castro's "demise,'' is how frustrating and
futile it is for an entire group, a whole city, a nation to live for or to base
its policy on a death watch, a death wish, wishful thinking.
The New York stay drove these points home. Unlike what I knew would be
happening in Miami, the Big Apple's newspaper of record merely ran a photograph
on an inside page with a short caption that said Castro had passed out but had
come back to speak after 10 minutes.
'Waiting for Fidel' to die is a poor and uncertain substitute for a Cuba
policy.
While in New York, I read a couple of leading Santo Domingo newspapers. They
were silent on Castro, but both had Page One stories about former president
Joaquin Balaguer. Blind and ill, Balaguer ruled until 1996 and is still
influential in politics. In September, he turns 95. Castro? He turns 75 on
August 13.
Balaguer's longevity, political and physical, underscores that "waiting
for Fidel (to die)'' is a poor and uncertain substitute for a Cuba policy. Yet
that seems to be the current strategy. Supporters of the embargo, the
cornerstone of U.S. policy, have argued that sanctions didn't fail for 40 years;
the embargo was ineffective as long as the Soviet Union gave aid.
News flash: The Soviet Union hasn't been around for 10 years. The latest
line? Wait for Castro to die, then the embargo will be a good bargaining chip.
Meanwhile, the people on the island suffer, U.S. prestige declines and the Cuban
government attributes all problems to American policy.
A growing number of centrists and conservatives are no longer willing to go
along with the game of shifting rationales. The latest player is the Cuba Policy
Foundation. Its president, Sally Grooms Cowal, a former U.S. ambassador, held
two press conferences in Florida last week. Her message: "Is there a
company in the United States that would not change its business practice if that
practice had been a 40-year failure?''
maxcastro@miami.edu
Copyright 2001 Miami Herald | 
