Struggling for freedom against the odds
Cuba's leading dissident slams Castro regime's human rights record
By DOUG BANDOW
HAVANA -- Inside Avenida 21, number 3014, a nondescript
house in a Havana suburb, lives dissident Elizardo Sanchez Santa
Cruz. Despite Cuba's greater engagement with the world over the
last decade, "political repression has been increasing," says
Sanchez.
There have recently been mass detentions after an invasion of the
Mexican embassy grounds by students hoping to get visas.
Independent journalists and human rights activists have been
beaten, detained and jailed.
"This has been the highest level of repression in the last 10 years,
maybe the last 20 years," Sanchez complains. Vicki Huddleston,
head of the U.S. Interest Section in Cuba, opines: "For me, the
most worrisome thing is that the situation will be shoved
backwards."
This brutality has not prevented many Cubans from risking their
lives, freedom and property to fight for liberty. Sanchez is known
as the dean of human rights activists and heads the Cuban
Commission on Human Rights and National Reconciliation.
Of medium stature and with gray, receding hair, the 59-year-old
Sanchez doesn't look like someone to strike fear in the Cuban
government. But as Sanchez notes, while the regime took power in
1959 in a genuinely popular revolution against the corrupt Batista
dictatorship, "the base of support of the government has been
shrinking" ever since.
That would make any dictatorship nervous. Thus, he has spent
more than eight years in prison, been detained around 24 times
since breaking with the regime, and seen his home assaulted by
para-police thugs.
The policy of the Castro regime is simple, he explains: It violates
"all political, economic and civil rights." Although the government
has devoted much of its limited resources to education and health
care, they "form part of the official propaganda system."
There is some good news. During the 1990s there were some
1,000 political prisoners. Today there are "only" 220, but that is still
the highest in the Western hemisphere and "one of the highest in the
world in relative terms," says Sanchez.
While it was once "very dangerous" for human rights activists to
meet with the foreign press, he now does so regularly without
obvious retaliation. I know the regime "would like us to be dead,
but they know that the political cost would be too high."
There has been some improvement in religious freedom, especially
since the Pope's visit in 1998. The government doesn't interfere in
the internal affairs of the church but regulates any activity outside of
worship.
Sanchez started as a 16-year-old student activist and member of
the socialist youth organization. He later taught philosophy at the
University of Havana.
But by 1967, to him and several friends "it became very clear that it
had become a totalitarian government." Thus, he began "35 years
of resisting the regime."
Despite all that he has gone through, he remains hopeful. "Change
will happen in the short or medium term." No one knows when, but
the "transition could start this very night."
Even Cuban officials admit that the 75-year-old Castro won't live
forever, and then, Sanchez believes, there will be a "power
vacuum. And what happens next will be uncontrollable."
Some Cuba observers think the country may already have entered
its transition, which might give the nascent opposition an
opportunity to lead. "These human rights activists and independent
journalists, doctors, and economists are beginning to mean
something," explains Vicki Huddleston. They are "beginning to give
voice to this enormous frustration of the Cuban people."
Cuban officials dismiss the dissidents as being tools of America.
Some of them have a hard time imagining dissent. Ismael Gonzalez,
Vice Minister of Culture, notes that "art is by its nature belligerent."
But only "theoretically speaking," in his view, might that belligerence
be expressed as criticism of the government. "Fortunately, we
haven't seen that reality in many years."
Sanchez looks outside his own country for support, because only
international pressure keeps him and many of his colleagues out of
jail. However, he favors lifting America's embargo against Cuba.
Sanchez's argument is simple: "The sanction policy by the U.S.
government has allowed the Cuban government to have a good
alibi to justify the failure of the totalitarian model in Cuba."
Moreover, contact with foreigners is likely to breed discontent.
What of his personal future? He has family in the U.S. and when he
traveled abroad in 1988 for the first time, "the government said that
it expected me not to come back." But he did.
He notes: "This is my country. The solution is not that Cubans
should just leave their country. I think we should stay here and
change things."
In the end, Cuba's future will be determined by men and women
like Sanchez. Americans can hope for reform in Cuba; only Cubans
can make reform happen. Vicki Huddleston emphasizes: "Decisions
for Cubans have to be made by Cubans. They are putting their lives
on the line."
Doug Bandow is a senior fellow at the Cato Institute and the
author of "Tripwire: Korea and U.S. Foreign Policy in a
Changed World."