Welcome to The Latell
Report. The Report, analyzing Cuba's contemporary domestic and
foreign policy, is published monthly except August and December
and distributed by the electronic information service of the
Cuba Transition Project (CTP) at the University of Miami's Institute
for Cuban and Cuban-American Studies (ICCAS).
The Latell Report is a publication of ICCAS and
no government funding has been used in its publication. The
opinions expressed herein are those of the author and do not
necessarily reflect the views of ICCAS and/or the U.S. Agency
for International Development (USAID).
The top Cuban leadership today
resembles nothing as much as the doddering gerontocracy that
governed the Soviet Union in the first half of the 1980's,
that is, until the reformer Mikhail Gorbachev’s ascension
in March 1985. In quick succession the rheumy Leonid Brezhnev
was briefly succeeded by Yuri Andropov, and then Constantine
Chernenko, all three by then in their seventies, infirm and
incapable of leading their fading empire out of its terminal
dysfunction.
Cuba’s leadership today
may be inherently even more unstable. The Castro brothers’
unpredictable tag-team performance this year has created greater
uncertainty in the nomenclatura than at any time since the
Ochoa-de la Guardia purges twenty years ago. The announcement
last week of the indefinite postponement of the long-awaited
Sixth Communist Party Congress is surely the result of tensions
and deep policy disagreements between the brothers, and broadly
across the nomenclatura.
What appeared for some time
to have been an irrevocable succession, or at least one in
which Fidel would play only a passive emeritus role, has turned
out to be anything but that. By all recent appearances the
renascent Fidel has laid down prohibitions in domestic and
foreign policy –lines in the sand-- that no other leader
dare cross. This year furthermore, he has been thoroughly
engaged in the details of key foreign policy challenges, events
in Honduras, the summit meetings of regional leaders in Venezuela
and Trinidad, and perhaps most of all, relations with the
United States.
He is again monitoring how
scores of upper and middle ranking leaders behave. For a while
–perhaps when he was critically infirm— he deferred
to Raul. But the wrath and paranoia that characterized his
rule in the past have been evident again in the recent humiliating
dismissals of leaders who crossed him. As a result, ranking
Cuban officials can’t be sure who is in charge from
day to day. They don’t know who to obey or trust or
how safely to maneuver around the Castro brothers, even as
demands on them to improve economic performance are intensifying.
Raul, the nominal president,
has performed inconsistently. That is not surprising given
his continuing refusal to countermand his brother on any matter
of transcending importance. After first raising popular expectations
for change, he has been beating a disorderly retreat that
has surely compromised his standing among civilian and military
leaders impatient for reform and decisive leadership.
Raul’s speech on July
26th, Cuba’s most important revolutionary holiday, was
an exercise in debility and obfuscation. Perhaps it also reflected
a profound fatigue. In his two previous July 26 performances
he was robust, presenting himself confidently as the country’s
newly-found chief problem solver. He raised expectations that
economic conditions would improve. He spoke at length and
used the anniversary, as his brother often did, to deliver
sweeping “state of the revolution” addresses.
In 2007 he made the landmark
promise to bring about “structural and conceptual change.”
In 2008, he promised to “continue to care for, prepare,
and listen to our youth.” That reiterated in brief the
seminal theme of a speech he delivered at the University of
Havana some months earlier when he implored Cuban youth to
debate the country’s problems fearlessly. With an eye
on Cuba’s generational crisis, he reassured the students
that “We must continue gradually opening the way for
new generations.”
This year he was gruff and
demanding in his only reference to the disenchanted youth.
“Are you listening, youth leaders?” he demanded.
If they were, and if they are to take his injunction seriously,
they heard that they will be expected to work in the countryside
planting trees in places where the soil or conditions are
too poor to produce food crops. This change of priorities
was already evident following the recent dismissals of the
only officials –Felipe Perez Roque, in his mid-forties,
and Carlos Lage, his mid-fifties— who stood a chance
of appealing to Cuba’s apathetic youth and who seemed
to rank high in the line of succession.
Raul has no illusions about
the generational tensions that threaten prospects for regime
continuity. But, perhaps at his brother’s insistence,
he is no longer promoting open debate, not among the youth
or with any other segments of the population beyond the governing
elites. Even there policy disagreements will have to be aired
by officials with great care, and the awareness that hidden
microphones might capture every disrespectful word uttered
about the Castros, every criticism, every joke about the elderly,
intransigent men who control their destinies.
A photo at the dais where Raul spoke in Holguin on July
26th portrayed the stasis starkly. It showed the seventy-eight
year-old Raul, seated next to the soon to be seventy-nine
year-old Jose Ramon Machado Ventura, first in the line of
succession. Next to them was the irrepressible Ramiro Valdes,
seventy-seven years-old and apparently now the next most important
figure in the leadership. If there is a Cuban Gorbachev biding
his time somewhere in the upper reaches of the nomenclatura,
he is wisely keeping a low profile.