Practical Politics
Cuba: Chapter two
Arriving in Cuba at close to midnight on Saturday the 12th of June, the first strange thing was the sight of literally hundreds of Cuban youth in the dim light smiling, laughing, talking, hugging and otherwise engaging with each other in a neat row of little parks scattered over six to eight blocks. We were rolling down the Avenue of the Presidents on the way to our designated hotel, and all of us just stared in awe, as impolite as that was. There were no guns, no knives, and no apparent signs of violence or mayhem among them. Whether they were all happy and content, no one can say, but they all certainly seemed to be involved in communal and familiar fun.
Hmmm. That was a clear clue that we were entering another world.
We saw much of the same kind of activity during the weekday evenings of our group tour. Youth would gather on the Malacon (also spelled Malecon) Wall, the 5.2 mile highway barrier stretching along the Havana Coast. They used the top of the barrier as a jump-off point to swim, as a picnic platform, improvised fishing pier, and central hangout area. It was like New York’s Central Park, before it became too dangerous to seek solace and escapist moments there; or like a huge concrete extension of the Santa Monica Pier that would be publicly accessible 24/7.
Cuba is a paradox in a puzzle box amid an enigmatic matrix. According to all American political-economic calculations, Cuba should have died several times over by now, and its citizens should be permanently pissed, starving and burning down government buildings. They should not be laughing and holding civilized conversations with each other. U.S. leaders of both Democratic and Republican persuasions have long anticipated invitations to Cuba’s funeral but have waited in vain. By now, oddsmakers were sure that, at the very least, whatever remaining government Cuba would have 50 years after the commencement of the Revolution, would have gotten down on its knees and kissed the U.S.’s substantial bohunkus, while simultaneously begging for forgiveness for its misguided transgressions.
Such were our collective delusions of anticipated consequences. It simply has not and will not happen.
Instead, Cuba, even after the abrupt collapse of nearly one-half of its entire economy with the fall of the Soviet Union and its partnership, has managed to find effective ways forward. Focusing intently on training for and practicing medicine, universal education, and sports, Cuba has fashioned such a positive reputation in the world, that there is no turning back and the resiliency in the attitudes and actions of its citizens seem to reflect that. Besides mandatory and free public education for all Cubans through age 15 (drop-outs are not allowed unless for medical emergencies), and free clinic, preventive and hospital care for every Cuban citizen, Cuba promotes and exports medical expertise to other countries. Today, that amounts to Cuban medical personnel or consultancies in 135 countries. Cuba already had more than 500 doctors in Haiti well before the earthquake, and has been training Haitian medical personnel through the current period. It has medical agreements with at least 25 African countries, and it has been supplying medical assistance in every medical emergency in the Western hemisphere for the last 15 years. It offered 1,500 medical doctors to help victims of Hurricane Katrina, but of course were refused by “Helluva Job Brownie” and the Bush administration.
That episode spurred the creation of the Henry Reeves International Contingent of Doctors Specializing in Disaster Situations or Serious Epidemics (called the Henry Reeves Brigade for short), an ever-ready medical squad available to deploy to emergencies around the globe in less than 24 hours. Established in September 2005, this mobile medical unit was named after Dr. Henry Reeves, an African American physician born in Philadelphia, who went to Cuba and participated in the fight for independence against Spanish occupation and colonialism. He was wounded, had himself strapped to a horse, and continued fighting, leading his men by example and stamina. He remains a Cuban national hero. The Henry Reeves Brigade has been sent to Guatemala, Haiti, Venezuela, Nicaragua, etc. Additionally, 48 percent of the doctors practicing in Belize currently are Cuban.
Inside the country, Cuba also trained or is training more than 10,400 medical personnel from 47 different nations, many at the Latin American School of Medicine (also called ELAM), a facility that offers six-year free medical school scholarships to U.S., African, Latin American and Caribbean students. So far, the program has graduated in excess of 7,200 students from more than 30 countries, and currently houses 3,200 people on campus from 47 countries. The curriculum is in Spanish, so foreign students are given intensive language training at the school for up to one year to get themselves ready to succeed.
There are 15 California students presently in the beginning phases of the Cuban medical program, and 38 in total. There are 134 American citizens in the program, and 47 have already graduated.
They all finish as general practitioners and can opt to come back into the Cuban medical program for specialty training, again, free of charge.
If anyone is interested in this free scholarship medical program in Cuba, please contact Our Weekly. Talk is cheap: What really counts is what people do.
David Horne, Ph.D., is executive director of the California African American Political Economic Institute (CAAPEI) located at California State University, Dominguez Hills.
DISCLAIMER: The beliefs and viewpoints expressed in opinion pieces, letters to the editor, by columnists and/or contributing writers are not necessarily those of Our Weekly.
In one of the largest Pan African/African American Studies departments in the country—at California State University, Northridge—I just had a conversation with three of my classes over whether African American History Month still had relevancy, or whether it had simply become obsolete.
Rather shockingly though, most students—Black, White, Latino and Asian—readily said Black History Month should continue, that there was real sociopolitical value in its continuation.
The African Union invited the African Diaspora to join it in determining the future of the African continent. That future will include becoming the Union of African States or the United States of Africa. That is, the current 55 African countries being organized as one nation of 55 federated states.
Boy, maybe it’s just me, but January 2012 is turning out to be a transitional doorway for a substantial number of those who have spent an enormous portion of their time here contributing mightily to the growth and expansion of our human engagement and civilization in diverse ways.
In a lot of ways, today’s political process is a crucible of American-style politics. This is better than Poly Sci 101 for those who pay even mild attention. The relationship between the tripartite branches of the federal government, and the continuing cries of the states for expanded usage of the 10th Amendment, demonstrate much better than any university video or college classroom slides how the government actually works, rather than how it is supposed to work.
There are those who still say the creation of America’s 10 national holiday in 1983—i.e., the kind that means post offices, banks, schools, and libraries close and federal workers get the day off—was a reparations gift of White guilt for the long years of making Black Americans suffer.
Perhaps.
