Cuba without Castro

While Cubans dismiss speculation that Castro's death will lead to another revolution, some think it inevitable that the US will attempt to destabilise the socialist state after his death. By Liz Walsh

On the highway from Santa Clara in central Cuba to Havana on the north coast, our bus comes to a sudden halt. There is little traffic on the road but there is some disruption ahead. A large convoy of army tanks hove into view from the left, cutting across the motorway and into the rough terrain on the right. “It's the Cuban army on manoeuvres,” the driver explains. “It happens sometimes. They have always to be ready in case of the American threat.”

In Miami, Cuban-Americans are reportedly planning a party to celebrate the impending demise of their arch enemy, Cuban president Fidel Castro. The Bush administration is coiled ready to throw a reported $80m at what it terms “democracy promotion” in post-Castro Cuba. While Cubans dismiss speculation that Castro's death will lead to another revolution, some think it inevitable that the US will attempt to destabilise the socialist state when the world's longest-serving leader dies. One Communist party member to whom I spoke in Havana is confident that any such attempt will fail. Despite this, Cuba cannot afford complacency, he says, pointing out that the 2004 report of the Commission For Assistance To A Free Cuba is now US government policy.

For the most part though, there is no sense that Cubans are unduly concerned about the fate of post-Castro Cuba. Many are amused at the unending speculation in the West, given that the transition to a new leadership has already taken place. For those who offer an opinion, the question is not what happens after Fidel, but rather, Cuba's fate after the death of his 76-year-old brother Raúl, to whom Castro ceded power last August. Ricardo Alarcon, president of the Cuban National Assembly, is the heir apparent, but speculation focuses on Fidel Castro's economic advisor, Carlo Lage and foreign minister Felipe Pérez Roque, the youngest member of the Cuban cabinet. The Communist party member, who asked to remain anonymous, predicts the latter two are too young and not “historical figures”.
Ramon is a musician from the Guantanamo province who came to Havana in search of a better life. Like many Cubans, he is highly educated, very articulate and poor. “Cuba has been isolated from the rest of the world for too long,” he says. “Things have to change, we must have better relations with the rest of the world including America. ” He wants Cuba to remain a Socialist state but hopes it will move towards the Chinese model and away from the Soviet-style communism that has been in place since 1959. Cubans don't describe themselves as Communists but ‘Fidelistas'.

“Raúl has said he would like Cuba to have improved relations with the US and I think most Cubans think that is good, anything that will bring more money into the country and make us less poor.”

Old Havana's faded grandeur highlights the impoverishment in Cuba. The narrow, litter-strewn streets and tall, decaying buildings are eerily similar to pictures of Dublin tenements of the1950s. Cuba's equivalent of the OPW is doing an impressive job restoring public buildings and historic cobblestone plazas – Old Havana is a UNESCO World heritage site – but progress is slow. Money is scarce and materials expensive to import because of the US trade blockade.

The 1999 US Helms-Burton Act strengthened and extended the existing blockade imposed in 1962 during the Cuban Missile Crisis.The effect is crushing. Consumer goods and foodstuffs are scarce, stores practically devoid of all but the basic necessities. The blockade costs Cuba an additional $250,000 in transport costs on each shipment from Europe and $450,000 from Africa and Asia. Once a ship touches a Cuban port, it is prevented from docking in the US for six months, resulting in Cuba having to pay an additional premium to the ship owners. More recently, the Bush administration began monitoring financial transactions in Cuba by satellite. It effectively blocks transactions of all credit cards issued by US banks or affiliates, simultaneously levying a fine on all US dollars coming out of Cuba. The effect is to deprive Cuba of a vital source of hard currency, mainly from tourism. “It is nothing but economic bullying of Cuba by trying to undermine the tourism industry,” said a communist party member.

Cuba had two million tourists last year, down marginally on the previous year. The country's main source of revenue is what he termed “medical tourism” – foreigners who come for treatment in Cuba's world-renowned health system where free healthcare for all Cubans is a constitutional right. Prevention and frontline community healthcare are but two factors; every 150 families have a local consultario [clinic] with family doctors and nurses living in the community they serve. There are 440 specialist treatment centres and 226 hospitals. All blood products are routinely thoroughly screened before being administered – not a single haemophiliac in Cuba was given contaminated blood products, he points out proudly. Cuba now exports highly trained medical personnel to the developing world.

Up to 1989 the Soviet Union was bankrolling Cuba. Its collapse heralded Cuba's ‘Special Period': it lost 85 per cent of its export markets and 70 per cent of imports virtually overnight. People went hungry, power was severely limited, all building stopped. “We were a spoiled state,” he acknowledged, artificially protected from harsh economic reality by the Soviet Union. “Life for Cubans after the collapse was very, very hard.”

Cuba's economy is still a basket case. Its exports are limited to cigars, rum, nickel and biotechnicals. But there is some sign of recovery. The country's GDP rose by 1.9 per cent last year. Its biotechnical products are now marketed in more than 50 countries. Under the ALBA trade agreement, Venezuelan leader Hugo Chavez supplies 50 per cent of Cuba's oil requirements at less than half price in return for Cuban medical expertise.

Transport remains a huge problem. Cuba cannot buy parts abroad containing 10 per cent US-made components. When a bus breaks down, it's off the road. There are some new cars, mainly taxis, but mostly old 1950s Chevys and Buicks trundle around, rusted and rattling, some with windows held together by tape but still driving.

“Fidel is good for about 50 per cent of things but not so good for others,” says Coralia, a student lawyer. Her friend Gina doesn't appear quite as enamoured. She is hoping that Cuba opens up more to the rest of the world.

Despite the rumblings emanating from the US since Castro's illness, Cubans themselves don't feel under threat. As one academic pointed out, “We are poor but no longer peasants. We are a highly educated people and united culturally and ethnically. We are a unified country. Any Cuban exile returning now and hoping to take up where they left off in 1959 would find a very different Cuba.”