Cops are everywhere, Segura says, the government is cracking down on black markets and corruption that most Cubans must use to survive, and the island's recovery from economic ruin has clearly faltered.
``We are depressed and repressed,'' said the 42-year-old Segura, a Havana engineer who makes clay ashtrays and sells them to foreign tourists.
Cubans, in short, are virtually hopeless about any quick solution to the economic and political crises that have lashed the island since communism began falling into ruin in 1989.
``It's fair to say there is a certain bleak attitude, a depression, toward the future,'' said Wayne Smith, a former chief U.S. diplomat in Havana who now opposes the U.S. embargo and travels frequently to Cuba.
Though Cubans agree they are better off today than they were in the depths of the 1993 crisis, Smith added, ``they don't see any clear indication that things are going to get any better than they are now, anytime soon.'' Smith and other critics of U.S. policy blame the dark mood largely on Washington, saying that U.S. pressures such as the Helms-Burton Law pushed Cuban hard-liners to halt the process of economic reforms begun in 1993.
``The government was on the road to reform. But then, in reaction to our policies, the hard-liners argued that the economy was getting better and that this is no time for more social or economic experiments,'' Smith said.
But Cubans on the island and other foreign analysts note that Havana halted the reforms long before the U.S. Congress approved Helms-Burton in March of 1996, and insist that more recent developments account for the gloom.
``This summer we see only darkness,'' said a University of Havana economist who asked that her name not be used. ``This is the worst summer in years.''
Summers are traditionally a time of trouble in Cuba, when the heat makes people edgy, causes power shortages and halts most agriculture.
Anti-Castro riots erupted in the summers of 1993 and 1994, but disappeared as the economy recovered the next two years. Now life is hard again, a dozen Cubans on the island and several recent foreign visitors to the island said in telephone interviews.
Lawmakers in July approved jail terms of up to 20 years for failure to stop pilfering and waste of state property, both common ways of diverting government property into the vast black market economy. And they created new crimes, such as influence peddling and ``illicit negotiations,'' targeted at Cubans and foreigners who often must engage in corruption to get around the island's tight restrictions on business.
``Havana says it's only cracking down on crime and corruption, but this is the kind of crime and corruption that makes life possible in a very poorly organized country,'' said a Washington businessman who visits Cuba frequently.
In highly unpopular decisions, the government also declared that people from the provinces must get permits to move to Havana, and slapped stiff taxes on the booming business of renting private rooms to foreign tourists. Such measures have made Cubans more outspoken than ever in their gripes.
One Havana taxi driver, asked by a stranger whether Raul Castro would succeed his brother, President Fidel Castro, shouted ``Impossible!'' and followed with a 30-second torrent of insults toward Raul.
And that's not all the bad news. This year's sugar harvest was a severe disappointment, and while the number of foreign tourists continues to grow, the average number of days they spend in Cuba is shrinking, leaving overall income at about the same level.
Tighter U.S. embargo
An investment risk report by the London-based Economist Intelligence Unit in May gave Cuba an overall rating of ``D'' -- second-lowest in its A-to-E scale -- for economic and political risks. And the arrests last week of four top dissidents -- Vladimiro Roca, Maria Beatriz Roque, Rene Gomez Manzano and Felix Bonne -- and the more recent detentions of several dissidents and journalists seemed to support widespread expectations of a harsh crackdown on all forms of political opposition.
Yet three bombs have gone off in major tourist hotels since April, and dissidents are growing only more daring: One opposition alliance has called for a national plebiscite on communism; another has urged Cubans to deface their ballots during general elections this fall.
Asked if President Fidel Castro still has support among Cubans, one retired history professor said: ``Some, certainly. But less than much of the world might think.''
Fidel Castro ailing
``I see a lot of frustration, very little hope. And now, with the bombs, people are less hopeful that whatever change happens will be peaceful,'' said Uva de Aragon, assistant head of the Cuban Research Institute at Florida International University.
Where the dark mood leads to is anyone's guess. Thousands of extra police in and out of uniform have been deployed around the streets of Havana in the past several weeks, showing a degree of government concern over the bombs and the gloom.
``We've noticed this `state nervousness,' with the government taking measures to send the clear message that there's going to be no . . . social explosion,'' said dissident Manuel Cuesta of the Social Democratic Group.
Staying the course
``Miami is always dreaming, but nothing will alter our course,'' said the official, who asked that his name not be used. But other analysts predicted the summer gloom could have a positive effect, forcing the government to consider reopening the doors to more significant economic and perhaps even political changes.
``The Cubans have to face the reality that pressures are growing,''
said Wayne Smith. ``The Cubans will have to respond and move ahead with
reforms.''
Herald staff writer Glenn Garvin contributed to this report.
Copyright © 1997 The Miami Herald