Kathleen Parker . The
Wichita Eagle, July 31, 2001.
The U.S. House just gave Fidel Castro a reason to live. With its vote last
Wednesday to lift restrictions on American citizens traveling to Cuba, one can
safely reckon that El Jefe is no longer faint with Caribbean heat and island
ennui.
There's nothing like hate to get a tired dictator back on his feet.
This historic move comes just five years after Congress passed the
Helms-Burton Act, which tightened the 40-year-old U.S. embargo on Cuba. Among
other things, the act has restricted the movement of Cuban diplomats in the
United States, closed off charter air routes to and from Cuba, and imposed
penalties (in theory) on other nations trading with Cuba.
Publicly, Castro has railed against the act and long has blamed the U.S.
embargo for his country's travails. Privately, many suspect that Castro secretly
adores the embargo.
As students of Cuba know, Castro's hatred of the United States goes back to
his childhood, when Americans -- and more important, American corporations --
effectively owned the island.
His revolution against U.S.-friendly Cuban dictator Fulgencio Batista was
but the first step in what he envisioned as a future war against the United
States. His David versus Goliath fantasy is documented in the Museo de la
Revolucion in Havana.
On the third floor, you'll find a note from Castro to his colleague, Celia
Sanchez -- handwritten while Castro was still waging war against Batista and
long before the embargo -- in which he details his inflated, if prophetic,
ambition:
"When this war (against Batista) is over, a much wider and bigger war
will begin for me: the war that I am going to launch against them (the United
States). I am saying to myself that is my true destiny."
The embargo only added fuel to Castro's fire and provided a source of
nourishment for his insatiable hatred. All of which raises the question: Does
Castro really want the embargo or travel restrictions lifted? Some experts
speculate that Castro, in fact, does whatever's necessary to ensure that the
embargo stays in place.
Indeed, the Helms-Burton Act was passed right after Cuban MiG fighters shot
down two U.S. civilian planes in February 1996. Aboard the planes, which had
flown many times into Cuban airspace, were four Cuban-Americans who were members
of Brothers to the Rescue, a group of Miami-based exiles.
Why did Castro suddenly decide to shoot down these familiar, unarmed planes?
Some believe that it was a deliberate attempt to force then-President Clinton to
get tough just as he was considering relaxing restrictions. Clinton had no
choice but to sign the act if he wanted to win Florida's Cuban vote that year.
For the past several years, notwithstanding the strengthened embargo,
Americans have been traveling to Cuba in increasing numbers. Last year, 87,000
Americans traveled legally as part of some 500 fact-finding or educational
groups, according to Cuban officials. At least 700 American companies already
have registered 3,000 trademarks in Cuba, where foreign investment law protects
anonymity.
Cuba, in other words, welcomes doting Americans in limited numbers, just as
Castro welcomes American dollars by whatever means. But the thought of travel
restrictions being lifted and a sudden surge of ugly Americans on Cuban soil
might be more than Castro can stomach.
Those supporting the bill argue, probably correctly, that allowing travel
between the United States and Cuba is the likeliest path to fostering democratic
values and that the embargo has been ineffective in damaging Castro. Others
think that lifting restrictions should be contingent on Cuba's releasing
political prisoners and returning fugitive U.S. citizens.
Forget it. If we've learned anything in four decades, it's that Castro
doesn't cut deals. El Fidel gets what El Fidel wants, and there's really nothing
he wants less than a million American tourists polluting his marvelously
decaying paradise. Watch those MiGs.
Kathleen Parker is an Orlando Sentinel columnist. | 
