Back in 1975, I traveled to Cuba with a group of American journalists led by the late Senator George McGovern. At noon one day, I sneaked into the main cathedral in Havana in search of dissidents. I found plenty, willing to talk about the depredations of the Castro regime. One man, who had been imprisoned by the regime, was particularly vehement when I asked him what the U.S. should do about Cuba: “Recognize us! Lift the embargo!” Castro would never be able to control the influence of American freedom and commerce on the Cuban people. He needed a satanic American enemy to maintain control. “Recognize us,” the man said, “and Fidel won’t last a year.”
I’ve never forgotten that conversation because it speaks to an essential truth in international affairs. “Non-recognition” is a relatively recent diplomatic ploy. It began in 1917, with the west’s refusal to acknowledge the legitimacy of the Russian revolution. It has been attempted time after time–by the the United States against China and Cuba and Iran (and by Iran, vice versa, against us), and by the Arab states against Israel. And it has never worked. Non-recognition, at its heart, is a denial of reality.
Those who favor a continuation of our failed Cuba policy are a reflexive lot with a muddled argument. They’re the usual myopic tough guys–John McCain and Lindsey Graham immediately jumped on the President after his Cuba announcement today–who have no idea of the seductive power of the American way of life in the rest of the world. I can understand why the corroding Iranian regime would want to keep us out (a sign in Tehran: “When the Great Satan praises us, we shall mourn”). I’ve always thought: then let’s recognize the hell out of them. Let ’em mourn. Let the Revolutionary Guard try to fend off Kanye West and Star Wars. Good luck with that.
Witness Cuba's Evolution in 39 Photos
An old American car, long a staple of Cuban roads, sits along Guanabo Beach, near Havana.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEA group of youngsters in Central Havana sit on a street corner to discuss the latest news of the Spanish La Liga football league. Their hair is styled like their idols'—soccer stars and Reggaeton singers.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEIn route to his job as a welder, 62-year-old Carlos stops at a government cafeteria to buy cigarettes.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMECockfighting, a Cuban tradition, takes place in an anti-aircraft bunker to avoid the police. Fighting is not forbidden, but gambling, which is always present at the matches, is.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEAntonio Perez Hernandez shows off his prize-winning rooster prior to a fight in Campo Florido.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEHavana’s most famous street, the Malecón, as a cold front rolls in.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEAt his teacher's request, Rodney Cajiga, gets his hair cut in Justiz, a small town east of Havana.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMECorrugated zinc sheets barely cover a grocery store.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEJesus, a fisherman from Puerto Escondido, returns from the sea. “It was a good day, despite the cold front,” he said, displaying one of the fish he caught.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMERoberto, 22, is a college dropout from the East, who moved to a small cottage in Havana to farm with his father, Jorge. “My wife got pregnant and I had to support her and the child. Here I have a chance," he said.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEA pumpkin for sale, cut in half for clients to see it is still fresh.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEDelvis Montero, 39, works seven days a week making charcoal and earns $100 a month. “I work hard so my children can go to school and never have to do this extremely hard work," she said.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEMadelin, who works at a Havana boutique, hitchhikes to work each morning rather than taking the bus.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEAround 7 in the evening, Cubans begin preparing dinner. Central Havana, usually crowded, look deserted.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEAt night, neighbors leave their doors open to let the breeze in.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEYunier Utre, 19, lives in the Teodoro Rivero settlement in Jaguey Grande, Matanzas province. He works in the mango plantations from sunup to sundown.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMETourists relax on lounge chairs at Melia Las Americas in Varadero, which is next to the only 18-hole golf course in Cuba.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEThe wiring for the electrical system at a tenement in Old Havana.
Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEOld Havana at dusk.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEJuan Lara, 72, takes his cows to graze roughly 10 miles from his home every morning.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEJuan Carlos has been a fisherman all his life. Close to 70, he keeps this cottage in the Puerto Escondido fishermen’s village. “I have a real house in my town, 20 miles from here," Carlos said.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEJaguey Grande’s Library, where students from nearby schools come every day to do their homework.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEFidel Hernandez sets fire to the bushes around the fence he just installed to keep his goats enclosed. He has taken his grandson with him, as he says that he loves to hang around his grandpa.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEThe growth of small private businesses, like this one in Pedro Pi, is a sign of changing times.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEA woman at a telephone booth in Pedro Pi. There is only one phone in this farmer’s community, 12 miles from downtown Havana. Neighbors come to make their calls, get their messages and share gossip.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEA government-run auto repair shop in Jaguey Grande.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEA huge concrete school building.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMERicardo Rodriguez and his wife travel 30 miles every day to the town of Ceres to buy charcoal that they later sell in the town of Cardenas, near the Varadaero resort in Matanzas province. “The profits are meager, but we survive on that," Rodriguez said.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEAguedo Leon (far right), 82, goes to the cattle register in Campo Florido, Havana city, to report the birth of a calf. It is mandatory for farmers to do so immediately after the cow delivers. Failing to report a new birth can result in a $20 fine.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEOutside Havana, an old American car with a new Japanese engine is used as a taxi.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEAt the Puerto Escondido fishermen’s village, a welder repairs the carriage they use to move fish into town.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMERiding on horse drawn carriages is still the main way to move in the Cuban countryside.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEOrmiles Lores Rodriguez, 40, works as an accountant at the Grito de Baire farmimg cooperative. She says salaries have improved and employees get bonuses every three months if they meet their output quotas.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEDusk falls on Old Havana.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEDespite its age, the driver claims his car can reach speeds of 100 miles per hour, thanks to its engineering that includes a mix of American, Russian, Japanese and Cuban parts.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMETwo young men wait to go out with a girl in Old Havana. "We dress to impress her," they said, "and we take pictures to our barber for him to know exactly what we want."Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEAlicia, 8, crosses the street to buy candy in Patricia’s Cafeteria, 2 miles from Guanabo beach.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEAn aging car drives through Old Havana at dusk.Joakim Eskildsen for TIMEA woman prays to Yemaya, the sea goddess, on the Malecón, Havana's main esplanade.Joakim Eskildsen for TIME
Iran and Cuba have always been linked in my mind: they are the two countries in the world with the greatest mismatch between a government and its people. This is especially true in Cuba, where the people are brilliantly heterodox, fun-loving and creative–the wrong fodder for the grim discipline of Marxism, which has been a disaster there, as everywhere, a dry rot form of governance anxious to collapse.
I can understand the anger that still infects the oldest generation of Cuban-Americans–Marco Rubio’s parents and their friends, who were robbed and brutalized by the Castro regime. But their children and grandchildren are ready to reclaim their heritage, return to the island with an idea for a condo project or Juicy Couture franchise. This is an island crazy with energy, ready to join the rest of the world; the Castros have no future in such a place.
I’ll miss the atavistic charm of Havana, the ’50s cars kept beautifully alive, the gorgeous melodies of Cuban jazz–but nostalgia for a Museum of Communism should not prevent Cubans from finding their way to prosperity and eventually, one hopes, freedom.
So Congratulations, President Obama, on finally ending a foolish chapter in American diplomacy. Tonight, I’ll break out the rum and do a little Victor Cruz touchdown dance to the mambo beat of the Buena Vista Social Club.
