Dear Sojourners,
In regard to Doug Hostetter’s article in the January 1977 issue of Sojourners, entitled “Faith, Works and the Revolution,” I wish to respond with some of my impressions and observations based on my experience living in Camagüey, Cuba during the years 1951- 1960. I share Hostetter’s assessment of the improved economic and social conditions brought about by the revolution, but I wish to challenge him on some other points.
I am the son of Methodist missionaries to Cuba. I arrived in Camagüey in 1951 at the age of two and a half. During my formative years I was steeped in the Cuban culture. Even when my family would return to the U.S., I regarded myself as a visitor in a foreign land. In 1953, Batista’s reign of terror began. At first, our family would hear of persons disappearing into local jails and prisons. Then stories started coming out about brutal slayings and inhuman torture perpetrated by the police.
As the seven years of the Batista regime went by, our family could not help but be appalled by this kind of brutality and by the obvious corruption that pervaded Cuban society. Prostitution, gambling, and drug traffic was heavily supported by American Mafia dollars. Meanwhile, American business was happy with Batista as long as the sugar interests were not molested.
During the years 1957-58, our family became actively involved in support for the success of Fidel Castro’s revolution. Because we were Americans, Batista’s regime regarded us as beyond suspicion. We took advantage of this and from time to time hid young men in our home who were either hiding from the police or were actively involved in Castro’s underground.
My father and others, some of them doctors and lawyers, made sure that medicines and money got to Castro’s forces. I recall during those last months of Batista’s regime how excited we got when we heard a rumor of yet another rebel victory over the army, and how angry I was when we heard how Batista had used American-made planes and napalm when Santa Clara was bombed.
When Batista fled the county on January 1, 1959, I remember our family’s rejoicing. Truly, it was a new day. I could literally feel freedom; the Cuban people were finally free!
The next few months were marked by many changes, necessary in order for the new government to implement its policies. An austerity program was begun. Land reform was instituted. This was necessary because, essentially, the feudal system persisted in Cuba. Prices were fixed on rental property so that poor people would not suffer from the inflationary atmosphere of the economy.
My family and I welcomed these changes. We dreamed of a socialistic democracy for Cuba. When Castro announced the expropriation of the American sugar interests, we welcomed this as a wise step towards Cuba finally reaching economic independence.
During the fall of 1959 and spring of 1960, there were some crucial changes made by the government. President Urrutia was denounced by Fidel Castro, was stripped of his office and thrown out of the country. He was lucky to escape imprisonment or death. It was Urrutia himself who was Castro’s lawyer, defending Fidel at the trial following his capture for having attacked the Moncada police headquarters on July 26, 1953, in the city of Santiago de Cuba. Castro was sentenced to jail and then was exiled to Mexico. Fidel owes his life to Urrutia.
Comandante Huber Matos, military governor of the Province of Camagüey, was denounced by Castro and after a brief trial was sentenced to life imprisonment. Matos was a Baptist Christian layman who went to the hills to fight with Fidel early in the campaign. He served with distinction and was given the rank of “Comandante,” commander, for his military skill. After the victory, he was given the post of governor of the Province of Camagüey.
Around November, 1959, Matos became concerned that known Communists were being given top posts in the government, and expressed his concern to Fidel, which led to Matos’s arrest. [Editor's note: Castro states that Matos had organized an uprising within the army in Camagüey Province.]
During this time, the government began to direct its criticism away from the sins of the Batista regime to the sins of the U.S. regime. We received these criticisms well. Hadn’t the U.S. controlled the economy of Cuba long enough? Hadn’t the U.S. turned its face and closed its ears to the open brutalities perpetrated by Batista’s police? Hadn’t the U.S. continued to supply Batista with arms, bombs, airplanes, uniforms, and money for the sake of combating “communists,” while Batista used this material to kill and maim innocent people? Surely, the U.S. deserved to be denounced.
We agreed with this criticism, but we as a family were also concerned about the events of the recent months. Castro’s anti-U.S. attack began to take another turn. I remember the day when a classmate of mine curled up his lips in distaste and called me a “Yanqui.” “Yanqui go home!” “But I’m Cuban,” I hollered back to him. “No,” he said, “You are a Yanqui and you can’t be trusted!”
Soon our family discovered that Cuban society was easily divided into two parts: those persons who were for the revolution and those persons against the revolution. The government quickly made those distinctions for you. If you agreed with the government objectives, you were pro. If you didn’t you were con.
Our family quickly found out that nothing regarding the government could be talked about publicly. One Sunday, my father preached a sermon generally stating that communism did not insure the existence of human rights in its society. Someone in the audience angrily walked out of the church. My father was marked as antirevolutionary. He had made no statements in regard to the Cuban government.
One night in the fall of 1960, my parents heard another speech by Castro over the radio. This time, a group of counterrevolutionaries had been discovered plotting against the government. Fidel announced that Committees to Defend the Revolution would be organized in every block and in every farm in Cuba. The CDRs would monitor the activities of all people. Anyone caught doing anything suspicious would be either observed more closely or interrogated by the CDR. It was announced that any Cuban associating with a U.S. citizen would be blacklisted.
Shortly after this announcement, a group of Cubans who had known my family over our ten-year stay on the island came to my parents and with tears in their eyes asked my parents to leave Cuba. “It’s not that we want you to leave.” they said, “it’s that the CDR won’t stop harassing us until you leave.”
My parents did not leave Cuba because they disagreed with the way the revolution was being twisted. They would have gladly stayed forever. They left Cuba to protect the lives of their Cuban loved ones.
The Carter Administration’s fresh look at Cuba is to be welcomed. I favor the lifting of the U.S. embargo against Cuba, and the establishment of diplomatic relations with Castro’s government. It’s high time that the U.S. accepts the fact that it made some serious mistakes in Cuba, and that a new policy toward the island nation and the rest of Latin America be established. When is President Carter going to call directly upon the repressive regimes of Chile, Argentina, Brazil, Uruguay, Paraguay, Bolivia, and Peru to reestablish human rights and to free political prisoners?
But in my view, the Cuban story is not a simple either/or situation. Human rights were denied to the Cuban people during the Batista regime. Human rights are still denied the Cuban people during the Castro regime. I agree with Doug Hostetter that Cubans are better educated, more healthy, and living a generally better physical life now than ever before, but at what price?
Your brother in Christ,
Lawrence A. Rankin
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