American held for three weeks in Cuba not angry at jailers
CAROL ROSENBERG
His bathroom was a hole in the floor. Breakfast was an egg, a
roll and warm milk
in the morning. Accommodations were an eight-person cell, lights
lit around the
clock, shared with three other people.
For 20 days last month, a retired Chicago businessman on a self-styled
people-to-people mission ran afoul of Cuban security services
and was held at
Havana's infamous Interior Ministry prison, Villa Marista, a
former seminary turned
interrogation center.
His charge: ``Rebellion,'' for videotaping dissidents on why they
oppose the U.S.
trade embargo, then tipping them $20 to $30. He gave away four
baseballs, six
Beanie Babies and a box of books, which he delivered to three
libraries.
``I met with probably a dozen dissidents. I was warned to be careful
and I wasn't
careful enough,'' said Douglas Schimmel, 70, in a phone interview
from his home
in Chicago.
Detained Aug. 11, a day before he was to depart Cuba from a two-week
visit, he
was released Thursday evening and put aboard a plane to Jamaica.
In between, he said, he was never abused but subjected to intensive
interrogation
by beefy state security members, who were exceptionally concerned
about his
health but equally convinced that he had been on a mission to
undermine the
Cuban system for a subversive organization.
``In terms of my face-to-face contacts, I cannot complain about
the treatment,'' he
said.
Schimmel, a retired personnel manager for a Swiss agricultural
firm, is a
self-described ``knee-jerk liberal,'' with a history of activism
in civil rights
movements. An Amnesty International member, he was an election
observer in El
Salvador in 1990 and cut sugar cane in Cuba in 1998 with the
Venceremos
Brigades, which he found ``a Potemkin village sort of thing.''
So he returned earlier this year, and again this summer, to hear
from dissidents.
He met a dozen, videotaped interviews with about six, he said,
posed for
photographs with them, and then gave them $20 or $30 each, ``a
gratuity for their
time and effort and information.''
``I wasn't delivering wads of cash to buy C4 with, or anything, like that,'' he said.
But Cuban officials ``were very suspicious as to why I came down:
whether
somebody sent me, whether somebody directed me, whether somebody
financed
me. I said, `I'm on my own. I represent nobody except my curiousity
on social,
political and economic things in Cuba.' I don't know that they
ever believed me,''
he said.
So for nearly three weeks, he engaged in near-daily rounds of
interrogation,
interrupted periodically by medical officers.
``They monitored my diabetes, smothered me with doctors and testing.
They said
their No. 1 concern was my health. It would've been embarrassing
to have an
American die in a prison for PR reasons,'' he said. ``I could
not ask for a more
conscientious, continuous monitoring in concern for my medical
situation,'' he
added.
``In terms of the way I was treated, I can't complain, I was very
well treated. I was
even warmly treated, and this from people whose job it was to
find out, look under
every rock to see what they could find me guilty of.''
Describing the prison, he said the toilet was ``a hole in the
floor underneath the
shower,'' his cell was a ``sizable room with six bunks,'' in
a hospital facility
occupied by three younger men, all Cubans, whose circumstances
``I sort of
made it my business not to know.'' Besides, he said, they didn't
speak English.
Schimmel said he was never fearful during his imprisonment, even
when he
concluded that he would probably be convicted of a crime and
spend seven to 15
years in prison.
Opposed to U.S. trade sanctions of Cuba, he said he probably won't
return to the
island -- for fear of his wife, Priscilla. She raised a ruckus
with the Cuban mission
in Washington when he did not come home and with the State Department
and
members of Congress.
So what did he learn on his fact-finding mission?
``They simply don't allow dissent. They make a distinction between
dissent and
desertion -- and they consider that anybody who is discussing
other than the
existing social economic order has deserted the objectives and
accomplishments
of the revolution.
``I lectured, unsuccessfully I'm sure, that dissent is what brings
progress
historically -- from the eight-hour day, to women's suffrage
to civil rights to the
Vietnam War. I told them, you know if we arrested people for
what you consider
dissent as a crime, we would have 95 percent of our population
in jail at any
moment,'' he said.
``Unfortunately, that doesn't exist in Cuba. I think that is their loss.''