His “mistake”, the real one for which his life is now in danger, was probably having done without permission what others do with a “patent of marque”, in a system where the sentence is handed down before the trial.
HAVANA, Cuba.- As if they had sensed or coordinated it, the sentence against Alejandro Miguel Gil Fernández was made public just a few hours before Protest outbreaks will break out throughout Havana and in the other provinces. As if, after these days of blackouts and deadly contagions, without food or “good” news to distribute to appease the anger of those of us who cannot endure any more darkness and abuse, they had once again turned to the Gil’s themejust like the one who throws a bone to the dogs to see if they stop barking for the meat.
But Gil’s case, as a coup d’état, is already being left behind and, in the toolbox they will have to look for what is impossible because it is empty, and the blackouts and the mosquitoes, the hunger and the chikungunya, cannot be fixed with news or rumors, not to mention that it is not the head of “Gil” that they demand with cacerolazas but that of the “homeless.” And although they are both named Miguel, the one who has it cut off has less value.
People are more determined to put an end, once and for all, to the culprits of the blackouts and hunger than to know the end of that boring story of which they knew the outcome because, truth be told, in Castroism, even before the crime, first they pass sentence, then they do the trial and they never reveal to you who, among those who judge, imprison and shoot, were the real culprits.
With too many accusations against him—so many that the trials would not be exhausted even in 62,000 millennia and reincarnations—the sentencing options were two: death penalty and life imprisonment; and as if they were playing Tin Marín, just as they do with everything, they chose the second.
Beyond commitments and international agreements to respect, flirtations with the Vatican and its surroundings, and even keeping such a “piece” as a bargaining chip if the opportunity arose, they could have chosen the wall, but that would end the circus too soon for those who enjoy their own show, and it could even be a blessing for that fallen person, well aware that the worst has not yet happened, neither for him nor for his family.
Not even for those who, as friends or “acquaintances”, continue to travel through that “zone of collapse” that extends beyond Alejandro Gil himself, and that will be prohibited for a long time, will it be very silent, for those of us who approach only in search of information, for journalistic interest, once the exemplary process against the former minister terrorizes those who must be silenced, although not sentenced. Just a scare to make them shut their mouths and that’s it. Because that is essentially what the “affair Gil”: silence.
Not having been prosecuted does not mean, in a case like this that smacks too much of settling scores and cruelty, having escaped a sentence. The sentence spreads in the environment and is executed on its own, automatically, with the order of silence that underlies the case itself, and, for example, Gil’s children know that.
Generals, ministers and deputy ministers appeared at the trial as witnesses and accusers. More than one company director and more than one foreign businessman. There were so many who had something to say, to testify, that one can only think about why, if they knew so much about the “bad” things he did, they allowed him to do it; and how everyday and typical of their hierarchy the “crimes” were so that they were not surprised except when the news of the dismissal took them by surprise.
Witnesses and accused, informers and cronies, those who do and those who do not, will never take the risk of talking about the case with any of us outsiders. Each one will be armored with their version. Only Alejandro Miguel Gil Fernández knows what he did (and what he didn’t) but above all why he did it, as well as that his “mistake”, the real one for which his life is now in danger, was probably having done without permission what others do with, let’s say, “patent de marque”.
Alejandro Gil interpreted in the everyday corruption that surrounded him the implicit authorization of being corrupt and, possibly, knowing first-hand that “saving the revolution and socialism” in concrete terms means accumulating dollars and properties to cushion the fall, surviving to see and enjoy the “day after,” he deployed his own life preserver, without waiting for an order to jump into the water.
He jumped ahead of time and therein lies his great “crime”: having ruined the plans of those who were to jump first and probably left him behind, having given him the illusion that he, being a Transportation engineer, could, if not navigate the ship, at least control its sinking. Alejandro did not want to sink after having agreed to do so. He wanted to float and reach the other shore—that of the “enemy”—like the others around him, but his task was not to survive the shipwreck or avoid it, but to sink with the boat at the right moment.
Alejandro Gil will not be shot. Instead, he will remain in prison until he dies someday, or rather, until he is killed at any time, when few will remember him anymore, and when no one will care what he did or didn’t do; what he knows and what we will possibly never know. At least not with those details that only the one who has just been buried alive could give us.
