Castro's Theatre of the Absurd

April 21, 2011


By Yale University Professor Carlos Eire in the U.K.'s Guardian:


Theatre of the absurd. Characters trapped in hopeless situations, frustrated by illogical speech, compelled by irrational forces to perform meaningless gestures. It was once the rage among the thinking classes of the free world. And decades later, unfortunately, it is enjoying a revival at the recent Communist party congress in Havana.

After 52 years in power – 47 of which he spent in his older brother's shadow - "president" Raúl Castro is seeking to reform his domain and change nothing at the same time. Two days ago, he told the party delegates that henceforth no one should serve more than two five-year terms in government. Ten years in office; that's it for everyone from now on, himself included. "We need to rejuvenate the revolution," said Raúl.

The assembled delegates responded with thunderous applause. Then they swiftly anointed 79-year-old Raúl as their supreme leader and José Ramon Machado Ventura, one of Raúl's cronies, as his immediate successor. The number three spot went to another revolutionary sidekick, Ramiro Valdés. Machado is 80 years old. Valdés is 78. Then came the pièce de résistance: 300 proposals to shake up Castrolandia's centrally planned economy, including one that would allow Cubans to buy and sell their homes. The congress will be very busy for a while "voting" on these proposals.

What the government-controlled Cuban press won't say, and what most foreign correspondents on Cuban soil don't dare say (lest they be expelled, as happened last week to Spanish journalist Carlos Hernando) is that these so-called reforms are illusory, and a desperate, ridiculous attempt to camouflage repression and maintain the current status quo.

Instead of opening up the Cuban economy, creating a private sector, or granting more freedom to Cubans, what these "reforms" seek is to control the black market that has been in existence for decades and to tax it. Take, for instance, the plan to remove half a million Cubans from the government payroll and transform them into instant entrepreneurs. This is not only an acknowledgment of the fact that many Cubans already engage in unregulated menial jobs under the table, such as fixing clocks, mending shoes, running errands, or catering to the whims of tourists, but also an attempt to establish a tighter control over these activities and claim a share of the money that exchanges hands in all such transactions. Even worse, the jobs which these half a million suddenly-unemployed Cubans are supposed to create for themselves are limited to a highly specific number of 178 menial professions, such as dog groomer, button sewer, and parasol tinker, each of which will require proper licensing, constant supervision, and crushing tax payments.

This much-vaunted "reform" is not new at all. A similar plan was put into effect in the early 90s, after the collapse of the Soviet Union left Cuba short of cash and subsidies. Suddenly Cubans were free to turn their crumbling homes into restaurants or inns and their antique cars into taxis. Many did so, successfully, only to find themselves under the thumb of bureaucrats who gradually taxed them out of existence.

Or consider the latest proposal which will "allow" Cubans to buy and sell houses. This, too, is deceitful. First and foremost, a daunting obstacle stands in the way: lack of cash, and the absence of loans. Individual Cubans have no savings. Everyone in Cuba earns about $20 a month and all of that is quickly spent. The new entrepreneurs, busy with their wretched tinkering, are not likely to save much either, certainly not enough for a down-payment. Even worse, Cuba has no private banks and no means to come up with loans for its citizens, let alone to pay its foreign debt, which is in the tens of billions.

Then there is the question of ownership itself, an ugly monster that this communist regime has kept tightly chained, chiefly because there are two million Cubans in exile who were never paid for the homes they owned and left behind, and those homes are now occupied by others. Once this monster is unleashed, it will undoubtedly wreak havoc, especially if all those exiles start making their very legitimate claims. One need not be an economist to realize that this alone makes all housing "reforms" moot, and a sign of desperation.

At the close of the Communist party congress programme yesterday, a very frail Fidel Castro appeared on stage. Many of the world's newspapers reported that the assembled delegates greeted him with a rousing ovation and tears in their eyes. One is tempted to ask: what is more absurd, the reception Fidel received or the mere mention of it in news reports written by external journalists who would be driven mad by bogus reforms if they had to live in Cuba as Cubans rather than as privileged foreigners?

Which raises another question: are tyrants ever denied thunderous applause, or tears of gratitude, even when they confront their mortality in the theatre of the absurd?