We presume Fidel Castro was chuckling this week when, during his four-and-a-half hour annual Revolution Day speech, he proclaimed "There is no country more moral than Cuba, more above board in its conduct."
We haven't heard anyone have this much fun with language since Bill Clinton mused about the definition of "it." Still, fun must be what Mr. Castro was after, for he went on to raise more guffaws by whinging about the Pan Am Games in Winnipeg. He complained, for instance, that the rules were being unfairly changed in baseball, "the most important, the most attractive sport." Then he accused Canadian news media of encouraging Cuban athletes to defect. This part was particularly amusing, given how huffy Canadian commentators seem to be these days at the idea of anyone making a refugee claim.
But never mind. Mr. Castro is being treated unfairly. Like the devil in South Park, he's really a big, loveable, misunderstood teddy bear. Isn't it time the world stopped picking on him?
Unfortunately not. A 263-page report released last week by New York-based Human Rights Watch sums things up best. Not only, it says, has Mr. Castro clung to his repressive tendencies, "Cuba has approved legislation further restricting fundamental rights." The miracle, we think, is that the entire Cuba Pan Am team hasn't tried to defect.
Cuba defends itself to the world "by explaining that, as Spain had instituted laws to protect the monarch from criticism, Cuba was justified in protecting Fidel Castro from criticism, since he served a similar function as Cuba's 'king,' " says the report. Accordingly, Cuba's Criminal Code allows all manner of penalties for even a whiff of peaceful disagreement. The courts take direction from the government; indeed, civilians can even be tried by military courts. There's no guaranteed right to a lawyer, or to a quick (let alone fair) trial. Prisons are, predictably, miserable. Families of political prisoners are harassed, government critics lose their jobs and homes. "Cuba's restrictions on press coverage and human rights reporting are among the most severe in the western hemisphere," the rights report says.
What can the world do about it? A quick summary would be "get serious." For while the United States behaves too harshly, both the Europeans and the Canadians have behaved too softly. (So, too, has the UN.) Canada, for instance, has addressed investment, banking, taxation and other issues with Cuba, and has even done some human-rights training with Cuban judges. But overall, "the message Canada has delivered I remains meek," says Human Rights Watch. "Canadian policymakers believe the U.S. embargo impedes their efforts; nonetheless, a mistaken policy by the United States does not justify an ineffectual one by other governments."
To its credit, Canada appears to understand its mistake. In contrast to the days when Commons speaker Gilbert Parent suggested Cuba was democratic, and Jean Chretien stood dumbly on the tarmac as Mr. Castro accused the U.S. of genocide, it has now occurred to federal policy-makers that constructive engagement may not work. Canada should more properly leave tact aside and speak loudly about rights violations. It should, as it now does, restrict official visits. It should work with the United States, not against it, to find the right balance of stick and carrot to mitigate Cuba's worst behaviour.
And of course, it should let the defectors stay.