Havana Cuba. — It is known that a work of art, when it is truly great, tends to inspire others. It’s like the novel Carmen, by Próspero Merimée gave rise to the homonymous opera by Georges Bizet; either The Quijote inspired Ludwig Minkus and Marius Petipa to create the ballet of the same name. Saving the great distances (and —above all— without pretending to make comparisons!), something similar happens to me with good journalistic works.
Today I will start with a text this Thursday, the work of Orlando Freire Santana. His title is surprising: “Being disabled is a condition that many Cubans want today.” In that chronicle, the colleague addresses an astonishing facet of the sad reality that is suffered today on the Island: the large number of healthy and normal people who yearn to join the ranks of some of the associations that encompass people with disabilities.
A card from the National Association of the Deaf of Cuba (ANSOC), the National Association of the Blind (ANCI) or the Cuban Association of Physically-Motor Limited (ACLIFIM) are highly coveted documents today. Almost as much as a passport (and the corresponding visa and ticket) with which to get out of this “tropical paradise of the proletariat.”
It is the case that the Creoles are overwhelmed by the huge queues that they are forced to do, one day in and the other too, to get trifles such as a bottle of oil or a tube of ground beef. In this sordid and hopeless scenario, possession of the aforementioned card can become a way to avoid the oppressive overcrowding of potential clients.
This is how Freire reminds the innumerable old people “who have ailments typical of their age, but not physical disabilities”, who manage the issuance of the saving card. And it is also in this way that the author, confirming the prevailing corruption in our society, declares himself convinced of one thing: that “in the immediate future, the black market offers, at astronomical prices, membership cards of the ACLIFIM, the ANCI and the ANSIC”.
In closing, I wish to refer to another journalistic work whose name says it all: “The crime revolution: five great massacres perpetrated by Castroism.” The second section of this work of historical account is entitled “Executions in the Cabaña”. There, the nefarious role that Ernesto Guevara (alias “Che”) played in the extermination of scores of Cubans in that fateful site is recalled.
The work echoes the statements of the widow of the renowned international adventurer, Aleida March de la Torre. In a book, the widow states: “I remember that Che, although he did not attend any of these trials, nor did he witness the executions, he did participate in some appeals and met with some relatives who were going to ask for mercy.”
In refutation of the above, the work cites the writer and academic Jacobo Machover, who “confirmed the direct participation of the Argentine in the ‘revolutionary courts’ and his responsibility in an appeal commission that ‘never commuted a single capital sentence'”. He also affirms: “He himself attended the executions carried out in the La Cabaña fortress.”
The latter makes me recall a very illustrative anecdote, dating from the seventies of the last century. At that time, I was still pursuing my legal career. In a talk in which four or, at most, five people participated, a couple of mid-high level Castro leaders (whose names it is unnecessary to recall here) exchanged some very illustrative words.
Some executions were going to take place in the gigantic Havana castle. Mr. Guevara de la Serna had already finished his disastrous mandate in the repressive installation (instead of dedicating himself to exterminating Cubans, he undertook the destruction of the island’s economic apparatus). By virtue of this, it was Commander Pedro Miret who presided over the macabre act.
Upon arriving to fulfill his duties, he found that the site was flooded by a pile of enlisted men who had come to witness the execution as if it were a party. Not content with going to bask in the infamous show, those wretches mocked those destined for the “stick.” They commented between laughs: “Look, the chubby guy is screwed up”, “Skinny, you don’t have much left here”.
Commander Miret put an end to that gloomy farce. He ordered more or less the following: “Everyone is getting out of here right now! These people have committed crimes against the Revolution and that is why they must be shot! But they are people who are about to die, and you have to respect them! Only those who participate in the act can be here: the members of the firing squad, the doctor who is going to certify the death…! The others are leaving me right now!
Of course, the two mid-high level leaders who commented on that event did not say a word against the Argentine. That would have been a crime against the Revolution! But to the best of my knowledge… Obviously, the mere fact of narrating the changes introduced by Commander Miret left the much publicized Che very, very badly off.
It is evident that the man from Rosario had not only allowed the acts of mockery perpetrated by his subordinates; Most likely, he participated in them! I think that this simple fact will be very useful to those who, without knowing him well, idolize him. And I want to believe that, when he was announced in La Higuera that it was his turn to put the dead, he dedicated at least one fleeting memory to the scores of Cubans he shot.
OPINION ARTICLE
The opinions expressed in this article are the sole responsibility of the issuer and do not necessarily represent the opinion of CubaNet.
Receive information from CubaNet on your cell phone through WhatsApp. Send us a message with the word “CUBA” on the phone +1 (786) 316-2072, You can also subscribe to our electronic newsletter by giving click here.
