Fidel Castro cannot escape this Ananke, or fate of revolutions. In a
Cuba destroyed by his own, he can only purr seductively for the return of
that demonic ``Yankee imperialism'' he has banished, exorcised and hoped
to erase from history.
``Capitalism fills me with disgust ,'' he has said more than once,
``and imperialism with hate. Never again will foreign tourism come to
corrupt our people. Stuff your dollars; the revolution doesn't need them.
Socialism or death!''
Once, Castro sought to ignite a hundred Vietnams all over the
continent. But the winds of capitalism proved too strong for Cuba and the
Soviet Union and left both in economic ruin. Today Castro welcomes the
dollar, applauds tourism and solicits the north. The president of Cuba's
parliament asserted the other day that North Americans are intelligent,
that their investments would be protected and that Fidel's death would not
change that.
Many capitalists, amassing great fortunes and leftist leanings, are
tailor-made for Cuban propaganda. They vault over their millions to
embrace Castro, some fantasizing about the ultimate copulation: a
magnificent Havana hotel, ``the Che Guevara'' with a catchy slogan ``The
right place to meet the Left.'' Hollywood royalty would flock to it and be
greeted by their hero, Castro.
Capitalist fascination with Leftist posturing has helped foster one of
the century's most-curious phenomena. With more than 40 years of merciless
rule, jails full of people who dared to think, incalculable violations of
human rights under his belt, Fidel Castro is still admired by the people
he most detests.
Much of the ``imperialist press,'' which Castro keeps out of Cuba, is
undulating to Havana's beat. Time magazine named him ``the winner'' when
``his'' team beat the Baltimore Orioles. National Geographic celebrated
the reconstruction of Old Havana with a photo of kids around the stamp of
Che Guevara promising to follow in his footsteps (to failure and death
perhaps). And The Washington Post lamented that Castro can't receive
U. S. aid in his ``war on drugs'' because a group of Florida
legislators, supported by many Cuban Americans, opposed any softening
toward Castro. The Post article ignored Castro's forcibly dissolved
partnership with Panama's once drug-rich strongman Manuel Noriega and his
current involvement with Colombian drug lords.
Meanwhile, the media-disparaged Cuban exiles -- multifaceted, loud,
often exasperating -- labor and sacrifice to send money, medicine and food
to their Cuban brothers besieged by government and nature. Most of them
exemplify the American ideal in everything but recognition.
Castro and the romance of imperialism