The name of the dossier Culture in defense of the nation includes at least a couple of distinguishable terms: defense of the nation and culture. In this respect, what’s your view about culture? How wide-ranging or narrow do you think it is? How is it related to the defense of the nation?

Israel Rojas: You can be Cuban from either a narrow or a broad perspective. Cuban-ness encompasses from how you walk and behave to what you eat. It’s a very singular worldview even within the Caribbean context—as mestizo and mixed as it is insular, where it’s not always recognized but from which it definitely can’t escape—without necessarily being committed to the nation. Ideally, it would always be like that, but it’s not. Culture in itself has a life of its own. Contradictory as it may seem, cultural expressions don’t always assume of necessity the defense of nationality.

As I see it, the nation is something much more comprehensive, as it encompasses culture—no doubt— but it also goes beyond that. I’m not exactly a specialist in ethnology or sociology, but let’s say that given my limited view of what each field covers, perhaps I can’t describe it in technical words, but I do know how to distinguish it inwardly. I think there’s a way of going deeper into our own Cuban-ness as human beings as we get to know our country better and become more aware of all the different feelings coming from the various social strata that make up our Cuban self… People in [the town of] Baracoa are as different from those in [the province of] Pinar del Río as a black Cuban is from a white one, or a taíno descendant like me from someone who doesn’t recognize themselves as such. And of course, a Cuban who lives in Cuba today is different from another one who doesn’t, and even—why not?—from those who feel culturally Cuban even if they were born elsewhere to Cuban parents. I believe that as you go deeper into and get to know better the polychromy that we call «Cuban-ness» you become a little more Cuban, even when it comes to the flavors of the Cuban traditional cuisine.

On the other hand, I strongly believe that, after such a long time under siege and trying to exist, a nation like ours becomes more resistant, which in itself challenges and affects, sooner rather than later, our way of being as Cubans.

I also believe in the country that we make and dream of, conceived by every one of those who were once part of a vanguard that imagined, dreamed of, and fought to make that ideal country possible. A country with a political, economic and social system which leaves no one unprotected or out of the equation; the country «with all and for the good of all» that [Cuban national hero José] Martí described—he was not a socialist but had a vocation to cast his lot with the most disadvantaged. Such a way of preconceiving a supportive world and our overall perspective as Cubans also defines and makes us the way we are.

I definitely believe that Fidel was right when he said that culture was the nation’s shield and sword. Culture is part of the framework that shapes the defense of the nation. Such is my humble opinion.

It’s very interesting that you stress diversity when you speak of the nation as a wide-ranging and unifying concept. How to link the diversity of approaches to Cuban-ness from different perspectives with a much more comprehensive project like the national one?

Israel Rojas: I think that those patriotic concepts, found throughout Cuban history, are fairly strong considerations when it comes to shaping and articulating that diversity. I find it quite revealing, however casual it may seem to be, that history has woven with threads of glory the fact that Martí fell in Oriente and [independence war general Antonio] Maceo in Havana. Or that the popular imaginary of regions with high black population density like Songo La Maya or Guantánamo claims José Antonio Aponte as their own, when he was actually a native of Havana, a westerner, and you can make him part of your own history. There is a very strong base of national unity there.

The formation of the Cuban nationality has been closely related to these aspirations for freedom, to the reality of always having an antagonist who confronts and hinders you and an external element that challenges you. All of this gradually defined our Cuban-ness: the peculiar habit of thinking “what we would be like if…” I don’t know a better word than “aspirational”. We have always had a way of looking at ourselves: what we would be like had it not been for this or that obstacle. I don’t know whether it’s the same in every nation, but in Cuba the main heroes and the most important literary and musical works—produced by that cultural, political and even philosophical vanguard of thinkers—not only recreated their time but also thought about the Cuba of the future… Look at a man like José Antonio Saco, who was pro-Spain and yet endeavored to improve his own milieu and thought and created so much for the future. That’s why he is such an essential figure in Cuban history.

These aspirational elements are part of our own history and foundations as a nation. Maybe that explains everything, and it’s really very interesting. We are even geolectically different: people in Pinar del Río have a typical tumba’o [swagger]; we from eastern Cuba have another; people from the Habana-Matanzas Plains and up to Villa Clara have their own, which differs from those who live in Havana. People in the provinces of Las Tunas, Granma and Holguín speak differently than those in the cities of Santiago, Guantánamo or Baracoa. We have a few distinctive features. Nonetheless, despite those expressions of fruitless regionalism and provincialism, which divided and debilitated us to the point of frustrating our first wars of liberation, national unity became all the more necessary. We can’t ever overlook that fact. We shed a lot of blood to achieve territorial or cultural unity as a social construction, but whatever we can construct can just as easily be deconstructed.

I think we have been more separated by class stratification than by regionalism. In the long run, the economic issues have always played a more decisive role vis-à-vis the achievement of national unity than, say, your birthplace, so much so that you can recognize a Cuban—or someone said to be Cuban even if they are foreigners or born elsewhere—as long as they mingle with and behave as expected from a Cuban. Would you just look at such a big and beautiful detail! We can even accept, embrace and welcome perfectly well a Cuban wannabe as one of us simply because they wish to be so. I believe that’s a big thing.

You wondered to what extent our status as a besieged and resistant nation has been a unifying and influential factor to us. I think that it also has to do with resistance from the cultural viewpoint to the attempts at imposing a hegemonic culture worldwide. Are we now more or less vulnerable to those attempts? Why?

Israel Rojas: I couldn’t say whether we are more or less vulnerable. What I do know is based on the strengths and weaknesses that I see.

Our strengths spring first of all from education and instruction. I usually say that our own Egyptian pyramids and our Empire State are not tangible, but spiritual works. That on September 1 to 5, depending on the year and the day of the week, the Cuban school year beings for all children from San Antonio to Maisí regardless of their creed, race, or region, and that it’s only natural that Cuban seven-year-olds can read and write, that is a strength. I only thought of writing Pi 3.14 when I was totally convinced that any Cuban 15- or 16-year-old knows what Pi 3.14 is; even those who don’t have a head for mathematics know it, they had to learn it. A country with such strengths is a bit better prepared to be conscientious.

We even boast a philosophical culture. Cuba is no bed of roses for the terraplanists. Some major strata of our society are still very politicized and fond of political reflections, philosophy and arguments about the meaning of life. I think we still have a big critical mass here that supports, for instance, theater. I find it incredible and wonderfully positive that a work like Hierro is a box-office hit. It’s great to see that the jazz festivals enjoy good health; that in spite of all the hardships we still hold the Book Fair; that in spite of all the wheeling and dealing the Havana Biennial Art Exhibition remains a feast of fine arts; and that the Caribbean Festival in Santiago is a popular celebration. The resurgence of a regional event such as the Romerías de Mayo [May Pilgrimages]; that each territory has new or traditional cultural events in common; this speaks well for our strengths. So do the commendations we have received in Olympiads of exact or computer sciences at international level. Those are also strengths.

It’s not the case, I believe, in matters like our current lame policy of advancement to leadership positions. I wouldn’t describe it as terrible, but it’s definitely out of tune with our needs insofar as it fails to prioritize our best people for the best positions. A country like ours cannot afford that luxury, since the war against us is too fierce and harsh for us to keep believing that our people are recyclable: «don’t worry, dismiss him; stick your hand in the raffle box and take out another name». That’s not how it works.

Not long ago I heard one of the few things I consider very objective in this regard. It came from Alejandro Gil, our Minister of Economy, who said that the Cuban businesspersons should work with a margin of risk, which is equivalent to a margin of error. So, if we acknowledge that it’s impossible for the economy to work without a margin of error, why think that in politics a risk-taking politician or official who tries to change something will not make a mistake at some point? We often think that we have a factory of leaders at our disposal, but life is proving us wrong. We don’t. The most suitable people we have are not there where they are most useful. Or we keep them there for too long, and then we say, «We didn’t have anyone else».

We have paid the price. Of course, the historical generation has made a huge effort, but that has its negative side. Some comrades have held a position for too long, perhaps preventing the emergence of new cadres and people capable of doing the same job with great skill.

I think many people still fail to realize that [Cuban president] Díaz-Canel’s mandate has its days numbered, according to the dates and duration of the periods of office established in the new Constitution. He will be in office for only so much time. We should be thinking about and assessing the best names for the job. We should realize that it was [Fidel Castro’s brother] Raúl who nominated Díaz-Canel, and with great fanfare to boot, calling him the one who had survived. But that sperm policy will not work forever. Besides, in my opinion, it’s suicide, because we might have just discarded very good people in the process. We cannot just place the winning “sperm” at the helm of every stratum of our society. That’s not how things work. We have to qualify and train people, but keeping in mind our responsibilities, because things may change any minute and it could be you, if you’re ready, who will take over a given task by popular vote, perhaps out of a historical obligation or an ethical commitment to your fellow citizens. Even if it’s a form of recognition and a source of pride, it’s not a reward, and it will never be a privilege.

It’s one of the shortcomings that we usually disregard in relation to the huge challenges facing our nation, because a nation will be saved or killed by its best or its worst people.

There are plenty of examples in our country’s history as well as in the world.

This is very important to me, as it is to every lieutenant and captain, to every Intendant and Governor, to whomever holds a responsible position, including in the cultural, radio and TV sectors. Today our best people are excelling in the private sector rather than in the State system from which our cadre policy draws sustenance. What we have in the end is a short circuit.

It’s utopian to think that man has no aspirations. It has a nice ring to it, but it’s totally out of keeping with social psychology. The question is what you aspire to. Provide a better service? Bring down the wall. Be an example of transparency in regard to our personal and family wealth? Bring down the wall. Be remembered by our people as an example of dedication? Bring down the wall.

How to get organized so that our best people can take charge? Some of our first-rate people are already leaving us. Does that mean that we will have to build our country with third-rate people?

Are those of us who stayed here on that third-rate level? No, many first-rate people stayed here. What can’t happen is that those first-raters who stayed are not holding positions in which they can really help this country make much more progress. Everybody here knows that’s what makes the difference. It’s one of the problems we have and, I think, a major weakness.

Another extremely important variable that we have to deal with is the technological revolution and its impact on both global culture and ourselves. We can’t escape that.

Just as the Industrial Revolution changed the world, so too is the technological one. Things will have changed by the end of the century, what with the arrival of the Internet, the 5G network and whatever will follow, because it won’t stop there.

Are we ready to understand that process? To what extent were those cultural barriers actually cultural resistance? The information arrived slowly and you had time to prepare. Now it comes very quickly, often scientifically treated and—as we just saw in Illescas’s book[1]—almost surgically structured, with enough pounds of science to get us soaked through with the question of world hegemony… Either we learn to use the same techniques to save our nation, or we will be swallowed up. The circumstances have changed. We will be swallowed up much like the muskets and steel swords destroyed the arrows and spears of the indigenous peoples. You can’t defend a community with bows and arrows in the rifle age.

I honestly couldn’t say how ready we are for this. I have faith in the right things that we have done to reach this stage of our history, but I’m also very worried. We still have many subjective problems to solve together. Our people are known to come together in times of foreign aggression; that’s not a concern. What worries me is our inability to organize ourselves better. Because of our poor organization, we have fared worse much more often than during those times that our external enemy has overtaken us.

The ongoing technological revolution is too big and marked by hegemonic interests. We must understand that if we fail to be prepared we will wind up being a nice historic anecdote: «A nation that faced up to the Empire until, well, the Great Empire won in the end», or «They lasted a hundred years! But, alas, they screwed up in the long run». I hope I will not have to see that. On the contrary, I hope that the essence of all those wonderful ideas that Cuba nurtures and defends—about solidarity, love for one’s neighbor, respect for people and any other living being, care for nature, social conscience, how to put ourselves in other people’s place—and which define our true fortitude, will not only make us immune to all this mess but also become, perhaps, the spark that ignites everything around the hegemony of capital and creates another hegemony based on solidarity.

You mentioned different artistic manifestations such as the box-office hit Hierro and other events. What is the role of the artists and intellectuals in this struggle?

Israel Rojas: The artists and intellectuals have a key role to play. To begin with, it’s not in vain that the UNEAC[2] congresses—fortunately—become national events. There we talk about anything, from public transport to birthrates, ethics or politics. In those UNEAC congresses we talk about education as much and almost with the same conviction as they do in the congresses of Education. Through that project we help ourselves imagine a better country, and as I said—maybe because I’m an artist—I think that capacity is a distinctive quality of our country.

Every time a visual artist, a movie actor or even a culinary artist combines our flavors or creates a critical work, regardless of its topic but in essence profoundly Cuban, humanistic and glorifying—of those that when you look at yourself in them you see the individual and the country that you are, and your children and grandchildren will probably see the same—we are dreaming of, defending and making that country. We are complementing an ideology and doing politics, no doubt about it. It’s why I hold that you can’t separate one from the other, it’s simply impossible, even if by saying so I’m giving my adversaries the tools to harass me. I could not be so hypocritical as to say that art and politics have nothing in common; of course they do, they go together like hand and glove. One is part of and provides feedback to the other. The role of Cuban artists and intellectuals goes beyond reflecting, denouncing and dreaming: it’s all that plus the chance to leave their mark on the next generation, like passing an improved baton.

That’s how I see it. Besides, no one can claim to have come out of nowhere. No one has. We’re all heirs to a very rich body of work, to everything created before us. Of course, in the field of music, I obviously consider myself an heir to the Nueva Trova [New Song] Movement, to [singer-songwriters] Silvio, Pablo, Noel, Sara, Vicente, Amaury; to the generation of Santiago Feliú, Carlos Varela, Frank Delgado, Gerardo Alfonso, Donato Poveda, the «Generation of Moles», and to [bands such as] Mezcla, Síntesis, Moncada, Manguaré, Liuba María... each with their own experimentation.

Also extremely important is that Cuba, as a Caribbean island, has the capacity to process whatever comes from outside that is not inherent to our culture and make it our own. The best of what comes from outside, but then again, sometimes also the worst, but in the end the best remains. A mimetic work can be successful and functional at a given time, but it’s short-lived. Even the artists who at some point have defended more radically a certain genre end up realizing that choosing only functional and money-making works is suicidal. More often than not they undertake quests and experiments and merge their work with the entire existing artistic and cultural patrimony that is knocking at your door and asking, «Did you enjoy your moment of fame? Well now is the time to remix and relearn».

Making your hits last longer than the usual six or twelve months—you can only try, for it’s never a sure thing—calls for a great deal of serious work. I’m not talking about excelling in the market or in the big cultural industries, but about the influence of your art, so that in the course of time people revisit your work and rejoice in it again… That’s why NG La Banda is a classic whose place of honor other very popular bands never reached. I’m talking about works, not ideological positions. Like Adalberto Alvarez’s Y qué tú quieres que te den, which Rojitas sang in 1993… You play those songs and it seems that they sound better and better with each passing day. Many songs from those days were merely superficial in content and never stand the test of time. Good art is everlasting, whereas a simply eloquent work will only live until someone else makes something even more eloquent, and then what seemed to be a work of genius expires, dies, expires… Time has ferocious appetites.

I would like to have your opinion about an interesting thing. You placed particular emphasis on people’s common sense and on their subjectivity and also talked about the artists and intellectuals regarding our cultural patrimony. There is a cultural patrimony, but the contexts and circumstances have changed. How do you use that patrimony to reach people’s common senses and subjectivity, which in the end you somehow seek as well?

Israel Rojas: Of course. The equations don’t always give the expected results in social dynamics. The way people behave and relate or fall in love is always changing, as are the concepts of family, sexuality, fidelity, morality… If you don’t study, feel, and experience all of that every day you won’t be able to sing about it from the heart and will find it very hard to link the country that you’re describing with the one where you’re living. It’s very important that culture can project itself and be imaginative, but on the specific basis of our current circumstances. It’s like a tree, whose roots must go deep enough to really grow, blossom and bear fruit. As a creator, you should never stop.

You don’t live in the past. The past is there for you to revisit and learn from. [Cuban radio station] Radio Rebelde had a spot that I loved which said, «Cars have broad windshields to see what’s coming and small rear-view mirrors to see what’s gone». Contemporary Cuban society, which is not isolated from the world, is now under the influence of a prolonged economic attack as well as affected by the big cultural industries that keep delivering their products and by the new technologies. We have our share of botched jobs—both new and old—in fact quite a few of them. Today’s Cubans are like those of the eighties, but not the same as them.

For example, look at our tremendous effort and work for women’s liberation. Without proper guidance, a liberated teenager who has no prejudice toward virginity and has the right to abortion, education and work, but is submitted to the objectification and super sexualization of the world of music videos and the mainstream media, she might get confused and end up with exactly the opposite of liberation and fulfillment. It seems contradictory, but it’s what we’re seeing. All of this is already happening.

I once heard [former founder and president of the Cuban Film Institute] Alfredo Guevara say that he could not conceive of an artist, say, a filmmaker, who doesn’t have a new project. As a creator, I don’t always have a new immediate project. What is unacceptable is that if I don’t have any I will not study and do research until I come up with one.

I may not be creating anything, but I’m studying, which is not only about having your nose in a book: it’s watching the new Cuban and international cinema, trying to understand what goes on throughout our country and in this convulsed world, not just in Havana or in your neighborhood. That takes work, time, investment, searching for information, reading all kinds of media, making friends in other places who can tell you about reality from their standpoint… In other words, you have to concern yourself with learning. If you don’t, your art will start losing contact with life and reality and run the risk of getting stuck with old topics. I think that’s the worst that could happen to a creator.

I do everything I can so that each album becomes a new trip with new stories and views, trying to be different as I continue to be the same. It’s because I’m older and I have undergone some logical transformations. I’m a father and I have new concerns. That is, I face up to life from another window of my existence.

Now I understand perfectly that your artistic condition is not everlasting. You can keep on giving concerts, but as a creator you may be asleep. You have to go out in search of and fight for your status as a creator; you have to conceive things, like a researcher or anyone involved in synthesizing, interpreting, reflecting and projecting ideas and emotions. It’s an exercise in perception, meditation, synthesis, communication and, above all else, emotions. Of course, all of it must run through emotions. An artist is a social nerve.

Finally, do you know that Temas’s blog is called Catalejo? As I reviewed my questions, I remembered Catalejo, not only for the blog but also for your song. We talked about the defense of the nation, but this last question is, how we can prevent that defense coming from the field of culture from becoming entrenchment.

Israel Rojas: The defense of the nation is a historical, legal and moral obligation of the Cubans. The war they have waged on us is unjust, brutal and unjustifiable, but we must properly identify who are the direct and indirect victims and who are the victimizers.

As long as we don’t forget that dialectics is a tool for thinking and also for social construction and that defending anything necessarily involves putting yourself in somebody else’s shoes, we will avoid entrenchment. It’s easy to say, but quite difficult to accomplish.

To me, one of the cures for any unhealthy entrenchment is the ethics that [Cuban poet and essayist] Cintio Vitier defended so hard and [Cuban intellectual Fernando] Martínez Heredia spoke so much about. They referred to ethics as key to the process of personal construction, based on fundamental values of the most sublime humanism to construct an inclusive, democratic and socialist society. That’s essential to me.

A while ago, I saw a scene in the TV show «L.C.B. La otra guerra 2» [Struggle Against the Bandits: The other war] that kept me thinking through the night. After dismantling the gangs of bandits, Mongo—the character that Osvaldo Doimeadiós plays so brilliantly—chastises a young militiaman who was rejoicing about the victory, reminding him of the mothers and families on both sides that would receive bad news. Then he turns to El Gallo—no less superbly performed by Fernando Hechevarría—and says, “That’s why, heartbreaking as it may be, we have to keep ‘cutting the orange in half’.” This confrontation that we are living through is precisely about that. Sometimes you have to keep “cutting the orange in half”. The question is that the heartache should never go away, even if you’re exercising your inexorable right of self-defense. We must always put ourselves in somebody else’s place and try to cause as little or irreversible damage as possible. No damage at all, if possible. Finally, insofar as we are more active than reactive, as well as more daring, brave, advocate and participatory, in, as well from, the sphere of culture, we will have by our side not only our respective audiences, but also the people as a whole.

Rafael Hernández: Eduardo, when you speak about culture’s role in the defense of the nation, what do culture and defending the nation mean to you? What does that defense entail in the field of culture?

Eduardo Torres-Cuevas: First of all, we must define those concepts. The term “culture” has been used with very different meanings, and there are many ways to understand it. In my view, culture has to do with a people’s way of being and doing; it is the foundation of any cultural process. It can manifest itself in the streets, in our way of thinking, doing and saying. And this leads eventually to the consolidation of that culture in its intellectual, artistic and musical expressions.

Cuba’s overall historic evolution reveals the emergence of fields born from the Island’s own internal process. A great diversity of people, ethnic groups and nationalities came from all over the world—Spain, Africa, other European countries, Asia—at different stages of our history and converged in what I call the acriollamiento (or “going native”) process. Criollo means being raised at home; not born, but raised, regardless of your descent. This paves the way, first of all, for a process of creation of all kinds of cultural traditions and customs—eating, dressing, speaking and other habits. Every city, town and village creates its own traditions, and from there a more nationwide tradition arises even if there is still no nation per se. Culture precedes the nation, which will be the outcome of a cultural process.

I have always liked very much one of Fernando Ortiz’s phrases. «What is being Cuban? It’s an ajiaco»[1], he says, «made of diverse ingredients», with a quality of its own that is different to its original components. And he adds, «Our culture is the quality of Cubanness». That is, its quality is that of its people.

As those criollos and reyoyos[2] start to take shape, such a mixture of elements becomes a combination that creates its own expression as the ultimate characteristic of a nation. For instance, eighty-five ethnic groups came from Africa, where many of whom were even rivals.

RH: Eighty-five African ethnic groups!?

ET: Those eighty-five ethnic groups had a single identifying feature: they were black people. But in Africa, since they were all black, there was no such identifying factor. The same thing happened in Spain, and in Spanish America. In the 16th century there was an assortment of kingdoms and dynasties that included titles like king of Aragon, Castile, and Leon… Spain only came into being as a concept when there really was a vision of the Hispanic world, just like American-ness did during the same process in the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries.

Our culture identifies us by the way we are, do and speak as much as by the habits, traditions and customs that we created throughout those first three centuries, especially after the 19th, when the process became rational. Until then it had been more about feelings that could not always be described or narrated, but the predominance of the Age of Reason and modern science in the 19th century and the philosophy sprung from the French and British Encyclopedias of the late 18th century allowed for their rational articulation.

RH: When we speak of defending the nation we think first of all about a clash with external hostile, negative, alienating factors, originated mainly in the United States. That is the most usual context of the phrase.

Now, when we speak about it not in military, economic, or political-diplomatic terms but from the viewpoint of culture, it implies that we are defending a culture with ingredients that originate in the North. How does this cultural relation affect the defense of the nation?

ET: When I said that Cubanness is made up of all those transcultured ingredients I am also including the North American one. In the 18th and 19th centuries, Cuba and the United States had close commercial and cultural relations in every field, which became more political in the 20th century.

When Martí said that we lie astride the pivot of America and that the struggle for Cuban independence was also for the balance of the world, he took into account the North American factor, mainly because this vast Latin America and the American-ness that I mentioned before had to do with the characteristics of the Spanish Empire. But throughout the 19th century Havana had a permanent link with New York and New Orleans. Havana is not on the southern coast; it’s not a Caribbean city. It faces the North Atlantic, right opposite Florida, and it’s very close to the port of New Orleans, where there are French and Spanish criollos. That is why when Napoleon sold Louisiana to the United States many of those French criollos came here and established big coffee plantations in western Cuba. Others who came as a result of the Haitian Revolution settled mostly in the eastern region and in the city of Cienfuegos, founded by Don Louis de Clouet, a French criollo.

Now, that link with the United States made many things possible for Cuba, particularly to be close to the processes of development not only in Europe but also in Anglo-Saxon America. This even led up to the annexationist movement and the disagreement between [Jose Antonio] Saco and El Lugareño [The Villager][3], which remains, without any difference, a very current issue nowadays. El Lugareño argues: «An annexed Cuba means five hundred thousand Yankees; devils and demons, but white devils and demons with enough capital to make the Island advance. What do you expect from Spain, that it will bring you five hundred thousand African blacks?» To which Saco replies: «I understand, it’s true that we would get all those benefits», and goes on sarcastically, «but I still see a slight contradiction in that project: the loss of the Cuban nationality». It’s true that Saco is referring to a white nationality, but at the same time he was stressing the fact that this country had been raised in the Catholic religion. But religion is the least significant component of this concept; what’s most important are the whole cultural, ethical, and even artistic elements inherent in the original Catholic view of the world. At the other end are the Anglo-Saxon and Protestant whites. That is why he speaks of «the loss of my nationality», and says: «While I have been able to be a foreigner abroad, I would not be able to be a foreigner in my own homeland, nor will I ever bow to the gleaming stars of the American flag». He’s saying that he will not allow himself to lose his culture. So every economic effort has to be channeled into the preservation of independence and of the Cuban nation.

Therefore, speaking of the nation involves not only political but other more profound considerations. It’s about who we are and whether we can stop being what we are, and that’s the crux of the cultural matter.

RH: The present is also history, and all antecedents that you mention are key to understanding it. But if we look at the confrontation between the Revolution and the United States, and the former’s claims to national culture and the nation as part of its project, would you say that this moment is more challenging and threatening to the defense of the nation than back in the 1960s? Or have not that nation and its culture been under attack and harassed since the beginning of the Revolution? If we agree that is the case, what’s different today?

ET: It’s a wide-ranging question, but yes, I would say that never before has the nation and its culture been in greater danger. I will quote someone who is not exactly a supporter of the Cuban Revolution: Mario Vargas Llosa, from his excellent book La civilización del espectáculo [Notes on the Death of Culture: Essays on Spectacle and Society]. This is also related to the way modernity has dismantled all contemporary rationalistic projects and even the very concepts of nation, homeland, and people’s sense of duty. For the last thirty years we had a rational discussion which included the arguments that the right wing used in its political discourse, so it was possible to have a clear-headed debate. Today we no longer need that rational discourse because there are other post-modern considerations about ethics and esthetics that affect not only the revolutionary ethics, but also the religious ethics itself, like, say, in Catholicism. This phenomenon is much broader and global; it’s not limited to a certain region, nor is it a Cuban problem, but a universal issue.

On the other hand, in the 1960s the mass media—radio, television, the press, the news exchanged between agencies—were, in retrospect, seen as primitive. Now you can use a cell phone to send messages all over the world. There are examples, particularly of what has been called the fourth generation warfare, as in the case of the Arab Spring, the effects of which differed considerably from the expectations that many of the millions who took to the streets really expected.

Moreover, the concepts have changed or modified their content. Nowadays everybody speaks of democracy, but the problem is how to know what democracy you are talking about, the extent of its scope, and its mechanisms and power groups, which existed to some degree. Now the control over the media is absolute. For instance, in the 1950s there were in Havana eleven national newspapers, ranging from the communists’ Hoy to the Diario de la Marina, on opposite ends of the spectrum. We also had El Crisol, Prensa Libre, El Mundo, El País, and there was a visible debate in which we would either gain or lose ground every day. Today the right-of-center, the rightists and the centrists have much stronger control over the media than the left-wingers, among other things for economic reasons. On that score, nothing to do with the struggle of the 1960s, when the debate, the way to debate and the purpose of that debate were different. There were multiple choices, but all were intended to make improvements. Now even the worst can prove to be the best, since everything depends on your discourse and your powers of persuasion. Furthermore, the simplest discourse is usually the most convincing; the more theoretical it is, the less the great masses will understand it. The semi-fascist and far-right leaders, among others, use sentences and phrases, at times even without verbs, and thus they make affirmations that people accept. But the axiom of saying something that could be totally false hinges on the old principle of lie, lie and lie. Something always sticks, and then when you put up a defense, it’s too late. All these factors make these times all the more complicated.

The left-wing movement around the world went through a phase of confusing views, when the left attacked the left following the crisis of the socialist bloc, the Soviet Union, etc. I am not judging the communist parties, but after this phase they took a considerable nosedive, and now the socialist parties, who thought they would rise at the former’s expense—as they did in the beginning—find themselves at a disadvantage. The discourse that prevails today has knocked down some of the traditionally strong parties in Latin America. That’s what’s happening in Costa Rica and Peru, where parties long aligned with the left or the center, and even with the right, are faced with such a crisis that they don’t even have a strategic program. What’s the only strategic program on the table now? The neoliberal and neoconservative one, with both forces engaged in a discussion to which the left can only reply.

RH: Defensively.

ET: Yes, as long as there is a proposition I respond. What the left is lacking now is a coherent discourse and the capacity to say things in simple terms that everybody can understand, but based on finely elaborate theoretical thoughts.

RH: Is our own position or the message that we are sending also defensive?

ET: Of course. One of the most interesting aspects is that we are not measuring up to the proposal that we must bring forward. Our responses, more or less elaborate though they may be, are excellent. We only have to be goaded and there will be a response, be it by reminding the speaker about their mother, delivering a fancy speech, etc. As I see it, our problem is that we are currently designing a new proposal that is not yet articulate or tested; the very dynamics of the process can provide the answer.

Let me respond to your question from a different angle. The offensive being launched today is not neoliberal, but neoconservative in nature, and I make a distinction in that respect. Obama may be the embodiment of neoliberalism, while Trump is that of neoconservatism, as he even attacks some elements of the former. Such a neoconservative offensive seems to be the extreme right’s usual response whenever left-wing thinking is in crisis; they also become more aggressive against economic movements. In other words, it happens every time there is a crisis and it’s necessary to organize the advance of big business.

RH: When it comes to defending the nation in the field of culture and the culture that represents us, today our nation is more present than usual beyond our borders, and not for the first time. There are Cubans all over the world, as there were during the independence wars, etc. From the strategic viewpoint, what does the inclusion of the Cubans who live abroad, who are part of our nation, who are not our enemies and do not behave as enemies or collaborate with them, mean to a cultural policy or a plan to defend the nation from the field of culture?

ET: Being Cuban is not conditioned by the part of the planet where you live, be it the North Pole, Hawaii or Burkina Faso. And a most important thing, going back to Fernando Ortiz: today I’m…

RH: A fan of Ortiz.

ET: Yes! He asked, «What is being Cuban?», that is, the awareness and willingness to be it. You choose whether or not you want to be Cuban, but that involves a cultural, not a political definition, even if the political consequences follow close behind. In the beginning, I want to be like the other, not like I am; I want to acculturate.  But among the Cuban émigrés—we both know plenty of them—there are many who have discovered who they are as opposed to others; that is, I realize that I am Cuban because I act and think in a different way, and maybe I have to hide to eat black beans, but that’s the dish I want, rice and beans. Like Cuban music, which gets you on your feet wherever you are and makes you say, ‘That music!’ Culture keeps us being Cuban regardless of where we are.

RH: If defending the nation engages Cubans here and elsewhere, and if culture is what unites us, what do you recommend to include in a cultural strategy to defend the nation that will not be overcome by populism, folklorism, or the small-town provincialism that Martí criticized? How to guard against that danger?

ET: It’s a complicated problem. There is what you could rationalize about the problem and also what is an irrational part of the concepts and attitudes related to it. We must start by identifying those values, wherever they are, and place them where they should be. Now, that means that you must harness every available media to sensitize the relevant spheres, be they political, social or economic.

It’s a way of identifying ourselves with those feelings and thoughts related to the evolution of Cubanness which, incidentally, has evolved and will keep evolving because it will always live through different historic periods. Martí wrote many of his best works—in fact, most of them—in the United States, all of the above notwithstanding.

The solution lies in the realization that any new space will keep creating or growing insofar as we are capable of enlarging them. It’s a clever, slow-moving task that cannot be expected to produce results overnight. Many people, many Cubans everywhere can contribute to it. We know that many of them, who live in the United States even since the days of Operation Peter Pan, are excellent sources of integrative thinking and producers of Cuban culture from abroad. It would be absurd for us to disregard them, but they have to be recognized, just like they have to become aware of many things.

RH: My last question is related to the previous one. If we defend our culture and nation by reinforcing the proper cultural institutions and by avoiding any form of entrenchment or attitudes that might make us look fearful mainly when coming into contact with foreign things: how to develop that defense by bolstering and promoting exchange instead of closing our mind to it? How can we do this in order to strengthen a more self-assured cultural awareness?

ET: Your last phrase is very important. The question is how self-assured we are in our awareness. It´s not about building trenches of stone. They do not allow for any progress nor for the defense of what must really be defended. Ideas know no bounds; culture has no borders. Our culture is ours, but it’s also universal, because it’s another component, not a small-town culture. If nothing else, what makes Cuban culture so rich—maybe because of what you asked before; Cuba is close to the United States and closer to Europe than to other places, with the sea connecting us rather than isolating us; it’s harder to reach the center of America on horseback than travel to Europe by ship—is the character that Cuban culture has always had. If you don’t let it breathe and give it room it becomes weak, and the weaker you make it the more exposed you are to lose territory and end up in an unfortunate situation.

We need to have a dialogue and spaces to understand what everybody has achieved and done. The Cubans in other countries have jobs because, first of all, they had an education that included the influence of all the aspects originating in the more developed world. And even if you say, «I don’t want to go through that», somehow you will, because there are no limiting boundaries in today’s world. And it will happen in such a way that we will not always know—unless we have a clear policy in place—what is valid and what is not, so we have to enter into a dialogue that makes room for what is valid. Otherwise, you are doomed to die.

RH: Thank you very much, you have my appreciation.

Before summarizing my thoughts on this book, let me introduce you to the team who put it into CD form, specialists whom, we the readers, tend to ignore: Ana Molina was the edition's coordinator, Ronald Ramirez the editor and proofreader, Ernesto Niebla (2020 National Book Design winner) gave his cover design a 'retro' touch: Yadira Rodriguez was responsible for the interior design of the e book and Alejandro Villar was in charge of the lay-out.

I'll share with our readers what ideas came up as I read the book. In its 769 pages the work has 29 articles in the same order as they were published in Temas between 1995 and 2014. In my opinion, these were the hardest years of the Cuban socialist transition which began in 1961. Throughout this period the authors analyzed what was happening, mostly to Cuban women compared to men, in order to extract the specifics of what it has meant to be a woman and, of course, what made them different from Cuban men. At the end of the 90s, two articles appeared in Temas which included for the first time what they labeled “homosexuality” but it wasn't until 2014 that an article appeared giving a  scientific analysis of LGBTI people in Cuba, and more particularly, of “trans” persons.

Who wrote these 29 articles? I will try to give a summary description of them from my sociological point of view. 24 of the 25 were women, which is why from now on I will refer to them as female authors**. 22 of them are Cuban and 3 are from the United States; 19 of the Cubans live in Havana, two in Camaguey and one in Holguin. The articles are therefore permeated with a Havana-centric vision which needs to be corrected in future issues of the journal. 14 of the Cuban authors were born in the 1940s and 50s, 8 in the 1960s and one was born in the 1930s. This means that all of them grew up, and studied from primary school to university, obtained master's and doctoral degrees and higher level teaching and scientific positions after 1959. They worked simultaneously as university lecturers, researchers, writers, journalists, and in film.

When they researched the problems published in Temas they had personally experienced the transformations to the whole social fabric, and particularly to what it meant to be a woman, a man to be LGBTQ, transformations brought about by the Cuban Revolution. Luisa Campuzano would sum up these changes with the title to her article “Being Cuban Women and Not Dying in the Attempt”. I dare to paraphrase the rhetorical device Marta Yanez used to begin her article when she quoted Genesis “And then Lot's wife looked back from behind him and she became a pillar of salt” to attest to the fact that the authors of this book not only dared to look back but we also look at the present and the future without asking for permission ...and we have not turned into pillars of salt.

 The 29 articles show how highly qualified specialists in the social, human, psychological and economic sciences teach readers about how of Gender Studies in Cuba evolved between 1995 and 2014.

As interested readers go through the essays in the chronological order in which they appear, they will see that most of them put forward a dichotomous view of gender because they identify it with what it means to be a woman and a man. In this duality, these articles place emphasis on the female gender, and to this end, compare Cuban women with Cuban men in order to cast light on the specific characteristics of both. It is only in 1996, in an essay on how Afrocuban religions relate to men, women, gays and lesbians, that this dichotomy begins to “open up”, little by little, by including those whom today we call LGBTQ people. Two years later, in 1998, there is a second article which evaluates the Cuban construction of feminine, masculine and “homosexual” stereotypes. In 2004, the sole male author includes homosexuals in his research into masculinity in Cuba. Ten more years had to go by for a study to appear which summarizes the infinite and overlapping social factors which explain the reasons for homophobia in Cuba, both in our history and in the present. This essays starts by explaining LGBTQ in Cuba in order to concentrate on the programs to include transsexual persons in society with full rights. In 2014 another article appeared which studies the “face of gender” of the people who are employed in small private property in Cuba and  examines the specific ways in which women, men, lesbians and gays act in this sector.

What questions did the authors deal with?

They began by studying women in literature, in cinema, and in painting, with respect to what functions they perform in these works, underlining any differences which exist depending on whether the creators are women or men and trying to get an idea of how readers and viewers perceive these. The authors are the Cubans Luisa Campusano, Mirta Yáñez, Adelaida de Juan, Nara Araújo, and Mercedes Santos Moray. There are also essays about the specificities of female employment compared to male and glimpses of how these play out among LGBTQ persons. There is a US expert, Carollee Bengelsdorf, in addition to the Cubans María del Carmen Barcia, Yuliuva Hernández, Maribel Almaguer, Ana Lidia Torres, Dayma Echavarría, Dalia Virgilí and myself. Other texts are about sexuality, sexual diversity – always comparing women and men, concentrating mostly on the former-- and there is an article dedicated to masculinity. Three of the authors are Cuban, Natividad Guerrero, Julio César González Pagés and Mariela Castro, plus Susana Peña who is from the United States.

The Cubans Mayda Álvarez, Inalvis Rodríguez and Lourdes Fernández analyzed domestic programs and social policies aimed at developing Cuban women with full rights. Three attempted a gender approach and made an analytical survey of studies on women written in Cuba and the United States. These three authors are Carollee Bengelsdorf from the Unites States, and Cubans Inalvis Rodriguez and Marta Núñez.

The remaining topics were only dealt with by one author. The article about young women was written by María Isabel Dominguez, the one about woman in Afrocuban religions by María Margarita Castro and the authors of the essay about women in a rural areas were Maribel Almaguer and Ana Lidía Torres**. All the women I have mentioned are Cuban. The American anthropologist Helen Safa researched Caribbean families, specifically Cuban families.

I draw the attention of the editors of Temas to the subjects that were not included in these 29 essays and advise them to call on the authors to write about them in future issues: those related to a gender approach which goes beyond the woman/man dichotomy and incorporates specific characteristics researched in studies on LGBTQ persons; articles about racism and antiracism; those which investigate inequalities and poverty more thoroughly; research on gender and family violence; rural studies; more about the similar and different characteristic of each gender in the private and public sectors and finally, the sexist, racist, consumerist, almost pornographic images shown by Cuban media.

I should like to point out that all of the authors whose work appears in this digital anthology provided a critical analysis of the aspects of Cuba reality that they chose to study. . What were their intentions? To draw attention to the urgent need we have in our country to study women's evolution and their influence in gender relations so that we can understand each stage in the transition to socialism, concentrating mostly on the period from the 1990s up to today. All of these experts offered solutions so that all branches of science, not just the social sciences, could fill in the gaps in our knowledge. At the same time, they learnt from the history of each of the areas they studied in Cuba and also drew lessons from research that had been done in other countries on these subjects so as not to waste time repeating the errors that these had made. For example, Cuban historian Maria del Carmen Barcía threw light on a subject of which we knew nothing, that of the jobs women have done since the last century , such as stripping mature tobacco leaves; the rapid increase in the number of seamstresses as well as in the number of typists and stenographers from the beginning of the 20th century on.

These articles alert Cuban leaders about how imperative it is to incorporate a gender view of the decisions they take and of what they do in every sphere of the nation's life. Why do I state emphatically that this is a realistic possibility? Because the authors convince us with their arguments that there are no homogeneous female or gender realities, rather there are many, which makes it necessary to take racial, generational, regional, geographic, professional, educational and many other kinds of differences into account. Armed with this knowledge, decision makers and activists can act, experiment, and rectify their policies so that gender relations and all of Cuba can move forward.

The authors incorporate into their work something that would seem as clear as the nose on your face but which, in fact, is something that is minimized or is simply not known. There still persist in Cuba patriarchal ways of thinking and being which explain the continued existence of sexist prejudices about male superiority which subordinate women and show contempt for LGBTQ persons. This is how Natividad Guerrero and Maria Isabel Dominguez explain it in their essays on how sexual stereotypes are created from childhood on and how much they are at odds with the progress that has been made in Cuban life.

The strong presence of patriarchal ideology among Cuban women and men explains why female presence in various spheres of society does not mean that they are conscious of what it means to be a Cuban woman and much less of what it means to be immersed in the gender relations which still prevail in my country. This is acknowledged by those authors who write about female empowerment, for example, Mayda Álvarez.

Finally, this book's importance cannot be denied. One can reconstruct a bibliography of the state of gender studies in Cuba before 1959 and from that date until now using the citations and references of each article,. Included are articles written by Cubans who live in Cuba and abroad and some by experts from other countries.

When readers drink from its pages they will addition values that I could not recognize. Let it be so!

First published in Por Esto!, 16 February 2020

Translater: Janet Duckworth

In this digital edition—a format which is becoming ever more popular—some unusual circumstances have coincided of which we wish to inform our readers. First, what we are publishing is not a book but a doctoral thesis, something that—to paraphrase one of Silvio [Rodríguez]’s verses, “seems to be the same but is not equal”. For this reason, certain academic standards, usually omitted by authors when they publish their dissertations as books, are evident in this format. The conversion could not be realized in this case because its author, Alfred Padula, died more than a year ago, when work had hardly begun on the book-version of his text. Due to this second circumstance, we find it advisable to include some biographical information about the author, since his life provides explanations of certain characteristics of his work.

Alfred Padula was born in 1934, and lived a relatively extensive professional career before arriving into the academic world. He was a naval officer, an intelligence analyst and a civil servant in the US State Department, and this last activity put him in touch with Cubanreality. In 1969 he redirected his career, and began his research for a doctoral dissertation at the University of New Mexico, under the direction of Edwin Lieuwen, an eminent sociologist especially recognized for his studies on the military in Latin America. In addition to Padula’s doctorate, Lieuwen also directed two other theses about Cuban topics at this time, by doctoral candidates who today enjoy well-earned fame: Louis Pérez, Jr. and Nelson P. Valdés.

Padula devoted his thesis to the investigation of the causes of the collapse of the Cuban bourgeoisie following the triumph of the Revolution in 1959. He based his argument on a variety of sources, among which the Cuban press of the era stands out, as well as the testimony of nearly one hundred members of the prominent old bourgeoisie, which during the early 1970’s had established itself in Miami. After obtaining his doctorate, our author established a long academic career, mainly as professor at the University of Maine, where he wound up directing its History Department. Among his varied activities he continued to work on Cuban topics, and these interests were published in several articles and contributions to group volumes, as well as in a work written in collaboration with the sociologist Lois Smith and published in 1996 with the title Sex and Revolution, a volume which constitutes an extensive study on the Cuban woman and her development during the revolutionary period.

It is still surprising that as Padua continued his interests in Cuban topics, his thesis was not converted to a book and published. And this even more so as the dissertation had been granted the title of the best doctoral thesis defended at the University of New Mexico in 1974. During a conversation that I had the pleasure of having with the author more than twenty years ago, I asked him about the causes of this seeming indifference. Padula explained that, having allowed too much time to pass, when he did consider the possibility to convert the thesis into a book, he realized that beyond the revision of the text and the indispensable adjustments needed to free it from its academic baggage, such an endeavor would now imply rewriting it entirely.

The Fall of the Bourgeoisie: Cuba 1959-1961 constitutes a study of the characteristics, conflicts and behaviors of what was our dominant class in the times after the revolutionary triumph, specifically during the three-year period from 1959 to 1961, during which its disappearance was sealed. The starting point of the work is an accurate and powerful portrayal of the bourgeoisie during the final period of the old republican government. This first chapter is followed by a sectoral analysis, with subsequent chapters devoted to the sugar barons [mill owners and traders], sugarcane growers, cattle ranchers, industrialists, businessmen and bankers. In this sequence there is just one exception: a chapter devoted to the Catholic Church, which was an institution closely linked to the bourgeoisie during this time, although it did not constitute one of its branches. However, this section devoted to the Church is indicative of the considerations the author paid to the activities of the bourgeois organizations and institutions—decisive classist agents at the center of the revolutionary vortex. In his final chapter, as well as in his conclusions, Padula presents and summarizes what in his view were the causes of the fall of the bourgeois elite, highlighting both the structural weakness of this social class and the incongruities and divisions which became evident in its confrontation with the Revolution.

In order to understand the outcome of any dispute it is necessary to examine the actions of both parties, in close correlation; only in this way it is possible to understand the reasons for the success of the victorious and the failure of the defeated. Historical, sociological or politological studies on the Cuban Revolution—including those undertaken outside the Island—have paid much more attention to the first than to the second component. Hence the importance and the contributions of Padula’s work which Ediciones Temas now makes available [in Spanish], and in which we are offered precisely this kind of “vision of the defeated” in the Revolution.

The extensive study articulated in The Fall of the Bourgeoisie… deploys an impressive quantity of information about events and situations whose internal workings are barely public knowledge, or which have remained forgotten up to today. Although Padula examines them with care and reveals them coherently, his text is not without omissions and imprecisions. Sometimes the author is a victim of insufficient knowledge about certain characteristics of Cuban society, or about its specific terminology, which—for example—results in his presenting the sugar barons as an agricultural sector within the sugar economy, when in fact they were, more than anything else, owners of the industry; or sometimes confusing the roles of the industrial producers and the sugarcane growers. Several of these errors have been indicated by editor’s notes, but other cases have undoubtedly escaped—all of which therefore requires attentive reading. There are also data that did not pass carefully enough through the sieve of critical history to establish their accuracy or truthfulness—imprecisions which lead the author to express questionable interpretations. But even in those instances—which are more frequent in the handling of information offered by witnesses—the text does not lose its value, because even if the information is not exact, or deliberately falsified, the testimony itself is a reflection of the mentalities, and revealing of practices which carried indisputable weight in the fateful destiny of the Cuban bourgeoisie.

The digital format in which the book has been published determines its consultation by the use of the required devices, but it also has undisputable advantages in finding the location of items. The edition was prepared with great care, and although the translation [into Spanish] was shared by three specialists—María del Pilar Díaz Castañón, Laura Arcos and Olimpia Sigarroa—there are no perceivable differences in style. Although the status of the text as a doctoral thesis is evident, its fluidity in style makes for easy and pleasant reading.

With the publication [in Spanish] of The Fall of the Bourgeoisie: Cuba 1959-1961 Ediciones Temas is making a notable contribution towards a better understanding of a crucial phase of our history—of which much is still in need of research.

La crisis venezolana vuelve a estar en el menú diario de la política exterior de la administración Trump. Parece increíble que Washington conceda tiempo y recursos al escenario venezolano cuando se encuentra abrumado por la otra crisis, la mundial del coronavirus, donde en los Estados Unidos se infectan decenas de miles y mueren cientos todas las semanas, con 6,6 millones desempleados y una recesión que se encamina a superar con creces la Gran Depresión de 1929.

Examinemos los hechos. A comienzos de año, el Secretario de Estado, Mike Pompeo, y el abogado personal del presidente Trump, Rudy Giulani, sondearon a los gobiernos de La Habana y Caracas con intimidatorias presiones, teniendo como principal objetivo la renuncia del gobierno de Nicolás Maduro. Este reconoció que tales presiones se habían ejercido y fueron rechazadas enérgicamente. El presidente cubano, Miguel Díaz-Canel dejaba claramente definido, ante un grupo de corresponsales extranjeros que lo acompañaban en su visita de inspección en la provincia de Sancti-Spíritus, el rechazo más terminante a esta maniobra de última hora por parte del gobierno norteamericano.

Poco después, se celebraba una conferencia del CARICOM en Kingston, Jamaica, con la asistencia de muy escasos miembros —menos de la mitad de sus integrantes— de esta agrupación, a la que habitualmente la política exterior norteamericana concedía muy poca importancia, enviando siempre funcionarios subalternos. Pero a esta última, asistía nada menos que el mismísimo Pompeo, buscando ganar apoyo de los asistentes para sus planes de maniobras contra Venezuela y Cuba. No tuvo eco alguno ni respaldo oficial de los gobiernos allí presentes.

Persistiendo en semejantes designios, en el recién concluido mes de marzo, aparecen en la política exterior de los Estados Unidos hacia la crisis venezolana dos iniciativas que parecen contradecirse entre sí, con inusitados niveles de inconsistencias y respaldadas con un sorpresivo despliegue de fuerzas aeronavales norteamericanas en las proximidades de las aguas territoriales de Venezuela, que alimentan los deseos y pronósticos de no pocos en Washington y Miami en el sentido de que esto pudiera ser el preludio de la aplicación de alguna variante derivada del precedente de la invasión de Panamá.

Las dos iniciativas a las que me refiero son:

• El conocido encausamiento de Maduro y otros importantes dirigentes del gobierno venezolano por parte de las autoridades norteamericanas, las que han puesto precios millonarios a sus cabezas, al mejor estilo de los westerns hollywoodenses. Con un tono realmente amenazador, su similitud con el caso de Panamá (Noriega), en 1989, parece sugerir un curso de acción mucho más confrontacional y agresivo, luego de más de un año de fracasos tratando de propiciar, mediante diversas tácticas, el derrocamiento del gobierno de Maduro.
• Y de repente, apenas dos semanas más tarde, el secretario de Estado Pompeo anuncia otra fórmula, diametralmente opuesta a la primera por su aparente sabor político-diplomático. Se pide a Maduro y a Juan Guaidó que renuncien a sus cargos y funciones y los depositen en manos de un consejo de Estado compuesto por cinco miembros elegidos por la Asamblea Nacional, que gobernaría por un año y prepararía elecciones generales aceptadas por todos. Notablemente interesante es el hecho de que la propuesta no excluye a ninguno de los dos de figurar como futuros candidatos presidenciales. Pompeo no hace mención alguna al encausamiento de Maduro por narcotráfico, como si no existiera, ni establece vínculo alguno entre la primera iniciativa y esta. A cambio, los Estados Unidos procederían a “suavizar” o reducir la enorme carga de sanciones económicas y legales impuesta por Washington a Caracas. Ambas figuras políticas —Maduro y Guaidó— han rechazado semejante oferta de arreglo.

¡Entonces ocurre lo increíble!: al comienzo de abril se anuncia el despliegue de fuerzas aeronavales norteamericanas, muy cerca de las aguas territoriales de Venezuela, bajo el argumento de interceptar y contrarrestar el supuesto narcotráfico que se origina desde Caracas hacia los Estados Unidos. Este despliegue parece operar en una dirección contraria a la de un arreglo político-diplomático como el formulado a fines de marzo. Es perfectamente legítimo lo que muchos se preguntan: ¿se trata de un regreso al precedente de Panamá o un ejercicio de mayor presión calculada que lleve a Maduro y a Guaidó a aceptar la propuesta de transición (Marco de Transición Democrática, se le ha llamado) o, en su defecto influir por esta vía, una vez más, sobre los militares venezolanos en pro de una salida de corte bonapartista/golpista que desaloje a Maduro y su equipo del gobierno y ponga fin al movimiento chavista?

Veamos los diferentes ángulos a fin de acercarnos a un diagnóstico más completo. La acusación de narcotráfico —fabricada con especial énfasis después de la reelección de Maduro— aconseja indagar en un par de referencias indispensables:

1. Un estudio riguroso del National Geographic Magazine, de mediados de los 90, excluía a Venezuela como productor/exportador de cocaína y otras drogas. En su lugar, documentaba cómo el río Orinoco servía de «carretera fluvial» a un porciento de la droga colombiana para hacerla llegar a Guyana y de ahí a África/Europa.
2. El reconocido especialista en narcotráfico y vicesecretario general de la ONU, Pino Arlacchi, encargado de este tema por varios años, planteaba en una entrevista para una publicación italiana, a fines de marzo: «No hay tráfico ilegal de drogas entre Venezuela y los Estados Unidos, excepto en la fantasía enfermiza de Trump y sus colaboradores». Y para sustanciar esta afirmación, echa mano a dos fuentes: el Informe de la agencia de Naciones Unidas encargada de monitorear este tema (UNDOC) y en el informe anual de la Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) de diciembre de 2019. De acuerdo con este último, 90% de la cocaína que se introduce en los Estados Unidos viene de Colombia, 6% de Perú y el 4% restante de fuentes desconocidas. SI Venezuela fuera la fuente –asegura Arlacchi– ello «no habría pasado inadvertido» en los mencionados informes.

No estoy sugiriendo en modo alguno que Venezuela sea un país de santos varones inmaculados, donde los niveles de corrupción se atestiguan en no pocos y sonados casos, pero de ahí al narcotráfico internacional, como lo presentan Trump y su equipo, va un larguísimo trecho.

En cuanto al escenario de una agresión militar de parte de los Estados Unidos a Venezuela, en el actual contexto no parece probable. Amplios sectores del mundo académico norteamericano no lo consideraron posible en enero del 2019 y mucho menos ahora, dadas las escalas geopolítica, demográfica y volumen de costos, en comparación con el episodio de Panamá antes mencionado. Este fue para Bush padre, parodiando la famosa frase de John Hay, secretario de Estado de Teodoro Roosevelt, “a splendid little war”. En el caso de Venezuela, los costos y complicaciones regionales e internacionales serían de una complejidad muchísimo mayor. Los principales aliados de los Estados Unidos en la Unión Europea (UE), además de Canadá, son contrarios a semejante recurso y varios de ellos se empeñan en proyectos de negociación muy diferentes. Por otro lado, los aliados de Trump en la región —Colombia y Brasil—, que pudieran ofrecer algún nivel de apoyo, atraviesan por serias tensiones internas que descartan su concurso en cualquier operación militar en las actuales circunstancias. Y cabe agregar, mucho menos ahora con el apocalíptico coronavirus que absorbe todo el tiempo y recursos de casi la totalidad del planeta.

El plan que ahora propone la administración Trump no se ajusta, en ninguna medida, a los requerimientos y objetivos tanto de Maduro como de Guaidó. Como ocurrió no hace mucho con su propuesta para Israel/Palestina, el rechazo es rotundo. Washington ignora, una vez más, que el camino de una negociación para estabilizar la crisis venezolana no debe ni puede concebirse como una rendición humillante; debe y tiene que propiciar el enfoque multilateral, en compañía de otros actores internacionales más confiables para Maduro como Noruega y España, que aporten propuestas y equilibrios más balanceados, aceptables para todas las partes en conflicto y no una simple conminación a la rendición.

Ahí está, para ejemplo de todos los involucrados en esta crisis, el camino de Contadora-Esquipulas, que en la segunda mitad de los años 80 aportó las bases para un arreglo satisfactorio, tras prolongadas y pacientes negociaciones con auspicio internacional entre todas las partes, en el violento y sangriento conflicto en Centroamérica. Los esfuerzos negociadores iniciados en República Dominicana y los promovidos por Noruega, países del CARICOM, por influyentes figuras de España y otros actores regionales como México y Canadá, desembocaron —hasta ahora— en fracasos repetidos, dada la postura intransigente de los Estados Unidos de torpedear todos esos esfuerzos político-diplomáticos encaminados a propiciar un arreglo satisfactorio para todas las partes. Retomar el camino de Contadora-Esquipulas es el precedente que más se ajusta al manejo político y diplomático de la crisis venezolana.

Lo único que le queda a Trump es esperar que su propuesta —respaldada ahora por el despliegue de fuerzas militares— encuentre algún respaldo en las Fuerzas Armadas de Venezuela y, por este medio, precipitar una solución golpista, con o sin magnicidio. No es ocioso recordar que, hasta ahora, la lealtad de las FFAA al gobierno de Maduro ha prevalecido y que todas las maniobras de incitación a una salida golpista, emanadas desde Washington y respaldadas por Guaidó y sus seguidores, han terminado en estrepitosos fracasos.

El nuevo coronavirus, COVID-19, viene originando una pandemia sin precedentes en la historia reciente de la salud pública mundial. Al finalizar el mes de marzo, más de 200 naciones y territorios del mundo han confirmado la presencia del virus en su territorio; en la mayoría de ellas ya con transmisión local o comunitaria que obliga a tomar decisiones de aislamiento a determinados grupos de riesgo, o de cuarentena general a su población.

Al tratarse de una nueva enfermedad reportada por China a la Organización Mundial de la Salud (OMS) y en el marco del nuevo Reglamento Sanitario Internacional (RSI-2005), el Director de la OMS, luego de consultar con expertos, declaró el 30 de enero que el nuevo coronavirus es una Emergencia de Salud Pública Internacional (ESPI), frente a la cual debíamos estar todos los países preparados.[1]  Más adelante, el 11 de marzo, al comprobar que en varias regiones del mundo el COVID-19 había establecido transmisión local, la declaró como una pandemia.[2]

En sólo semanas, desde que se confirmó esta nueva enfermedad en Wuhan, China, y favorecida por el tráfico aéreo mundial, la transmisión del COVID-19 fue presentándose primero en países cercanos como Tailandia, Japón y Corea del Sur;[3] cuyas estrategias y forma de abordar la epidemia están sirviendo a los países para orientar una respuesta rápida y oportuna, según el momento en que se encuentren. Se han definido las siguientes fases en las que se atravesará esta epidemia: a) de preparación; b) primeros casos importados e identificación de conglomerados; y c) transmisión local o comunitaria.

Queda claro que, al tratarse de una nueva enfermedad, toda la población mundial es susceptible de enfermarse. No hay ninguna inmunidad previa para niños, jóvenes, adultos ni ancianos. Al ser un virus de transmisión respiratoria, éste podría diseminarse entre las personas a una mayor velocidad. Se observa una tasa de reproducción (Ro) que se estima de 2.2 a 2.9 personas, según reportes iniciales.[4] Es decir, cada infectado contagiaría de 2 a 3 personas en promedio. Estos valores y otros que han surgido de los primeros estudios, deberán complementarse y verificarse en los siguientes meses.

Uno de los estudios iniciales realizados por China fue la descripción epidemiológica en una muestra que llegó a contar con 70 mil casos. A partir de esta se observa que el 80% de los casos pueden presentar formas leves o moderadas, mientras que el 20% podría progresar a formas graves y críticas.[5] Estos últimos requieren ventilación mecánica y es dentro de este grupo donde la letalidad es considerablemente mayor.

También el estudio menciona que entre los factores de riesgo para las formas graves y críticas están la edad avanzada y la presencia de enfermedades crónicas como la hipertensión, la diabetes, la enfermedad pulmonar crónica y la enfermedad renal crónica. Cabe considerar que la hipertensión y la diabetes son entidades o patologías únicas. En cambio, cuando se señalan las enfermedades respiratorias y renales crónicas, se suman en cada uno de estos grupos diversas enfermedades. Por ejemplo, la Enfermedad Pulmonar Obstructiva Crónica conocida como EPOC, una enfermedad respiratoria crónica, está causada mayoritariamente por el consumo de tabaco. El tabaquismo y la obesidad constituyen también factores de riesgo que deberán considerarse en los nuevos estudios en curso.

Con la tasa de letalidad hubo algunos cambios. Se estimó inicialmente en 2.3%, pero luego se corrigió para un valor de 3.4%;[6] incluso observamos una tasa mayor en algunos países, como Italia. Este valor va a estar determinado en cada país por varios factores, uno de los cuales es la capacidad de su sistema de salud para identificar y ofrecer tratamiento oportuno a los casos confirmados con la COVID-19.

Se requiere un sistema de salud pública que cuente con redes de laboratorios y redes de equipos de epidemiólogos de campo en la Atención Primaria de Salud, para la búsqueda de contactos e identificación de los conglomerados. La letalidad también estará vinculada a la disponibilidad de camas hospitalarias, de unidades de cuidados intensivos, de personal de salud suficiente y calificado. Es decir, la calidad de los cuidados de los pacientes estará vinculada a la capacidad del sistema de salud, a su solidez, al presupuesto que reciba, a su organización, a la cobertura y acceso universal a sus servicios.

El acceso a esos servicios será especialmente crítico para las poblaciones de zonas rurales, aquellas cercanas a las fronteras y los pueblos indígenas, entre otros sectores vulnerables. Otra variable a considerar es que el acceso a los servicios de salud debe asumirse como un derecho humano que el Estado tiene el deber de proveer para que sus ciudadanos puedan ejercer plenamente. Lamentablemente el acceso a la salud en nuestra región varía país por país, entre aquellos que garantizan el acceso universal y gratuito hasta aquellos que ofrecen un acceso fragmentado según las capacidades de pago, situación que excluye de estos servicios a una inmensa población pobre de nuestra América.

Las reformas neoliberales que iniciaron algunos de nuestros países hace 30 años, han llevado a expresiones mínimas el rol del Estado, dejando a las iniciativas privadas vinculadas al complejo médico industrial definir el acceso a la salud por parte de las aseguradoras y los servicios privados de salud. Así, el sistema público de atención de salud del Estado ha quedado muchas veces debilitado y es en estas condiciones que se debe enfrentar el desafío más grande de respuesta a una epidemia. Ni el cólera, el dengue o la influenza, ni la ola creciente de enfermedades no transmisibles, suponen un desafío tan grande como al que nos enfrentamos ahora con la COVID-19.

Otro elemento a considerar en la letalidad y el impacto en los servicios de salud, es la característica demográfica de la población. Aquellos países o ciudades donde se concentra una mayor cantidad de población anciana, tendrán que tener los mayores cuidados para su aislamiento voluntario y atención oportuna cuando la requieran. Uno de los logros a los que más hacemos referencia en nuestros países es el haber incrementado la esperanza de vida. Ahora, paradójicamente, ese logro nos hace más vulnerables a esta pandemia. Razones sobran para proteger a los adultos mayores, cuidarlos y buscar su aislamiento voluntario por algunos meses más. Deberán posponer los abrazos y besos de sus hijos y nietos para cuando todo esto haya pasado.

Pero cuando eso pase, nos deberemos plantear la pregunta: ¿cuál es el modelo de atención de salud que necesitamos?  La lección de esta nueva pandemia debe hacernos revisar la mejor forma de organización de los servicios de salud y del acceso de toda la población a los mismos de manera integral, universal y gratuita. Se tendrá que discutir la verdadera dimensión de la salud pública y el rol del Estado en proveerla.  Se deben revisar las desigualdades sociales del acceso a los servicios de salud. Los Estados deberán plantearse cuál es el presupuesto justo que requiere el sector y de manera especial el sistema nacional de vigilancia de la salud pública, en sus capacidades analíticas, predictivas y de respuesta frente a fenómenos que afectan permanentemente la salud de nuestras poblaciones.

En esta edición digital, un formato que se populariza cada vez más, concurren circunstancias poco frecuentes que deben advertirse al lector.  Lo primero es que lo que se publica no es un libro sino una tesis doctoral, algo que parafraseando un verso de Silvio «parece lo mismo pero no es igual»;  por tal razón pueden apreciarse en el texto ciertas convenciones académicas que los autores suelen suprimir cuando publican sus tesis como libros. Esa conversión no pudo concretarse en este caso porque el autor, Alfred Padula, falleció hace más de un año, cuando apenas se había comenzado a trabajar en la edición de su obra. Debido a esa segunda circunstancia, es aconsejable incluir en esta reseña una mínima información biográfica, pues en la vida del autor pueden encontrarse explicaciones a ciertas características de su obra.

Alfred Padula nació en 1934 y tuvo una trayectoria profesional relativamente larga antes de llegar al mundo académico, pues fue oficial naval, analista de inteligencia y funcionario del Servicio Exterior norteamericano, labor esta última en la cual entró en contacto con la realidad cubana. En 1969 reorientó su carrera e inició las investigaciones para una tesis doctoral en la Universidad de Nuevo México, bajo la dirección de Edwin Liuwen, un eminente sociólogo, particularmente reconocido por sus estudios sobre los militares en Latinoamérica. Además del doctorado de Padula, Liuwen dirigió simultáneamente otras dos tesis sobre tema cubano, de doctorantes que hoy disfrutan de un bien ganado renombre: Louis Pérez Jr. y Nelson Valdés.

Padula dedicó su tesis a investigar las causas del derrumbe de la burguesía cubana tras el triunfo de la Revolución de 1959, apoyándose para ello en una variedad de fuentes, entre las que destacan la prensa cubana de la época y los testimonios de casi un centenar de miembros de la antigua élite burguesa, radicados en Miami a principios de los años 70. Después de haberse doctorado, nuestro autor desarrolló una larga carrera académica, principalmente como profesor de la Universidad de Maine, cuyo departamento de Historia llegó a dirigir.  Entre sus diversas ocupaciones continuo cultivando el tema cubano, interés que hizo patente en diversos artículos y contribuciones a libros colectivos, así como en una obra en colaboración con la socióloga Lois Smith, publicada en 1996 bajo el título de Sex and Revolution, en la cual se plasma  un amplio estudio sobre la mujer cubana  y su desarrollo durante el período revolucionario.

Resulta sorprendente que habiendo mantenido Padula un interés en temas cubanos, no se propusiese convertir su tesis en libro y publicarla, más aún porque  esta había sido  premiada como la mejor tesis doctoral defendida en la Universidad de Nuevo México en 1974. En una conversación que tuve oportunidad de sostener con él hace más de dos décadas, indagué sobre las causas de esa aparente desidia; Padula me explicó entonces que habiendo dejado transcurrir demasiado tiempo para hacerlo, cuando consideró la posibilidad de llevar la tesis a libro, se percató que más allá de la revisión del texto y los indispensables ajustes para liberarlo del empaque académico, dicha empresa a esas alturas hubiese implicado reescribirlo.

La caída de la burguesía: Cuba 1959-1961 constituye un estudio de las peculiaridades, conflictos y conductas de la que fue nuestra clase dominante en momentos posteriores al triunfo revolucionario, particularmente durante el trienio 1959-1961en que habría de sellarse su desaparición. El punto de partida de la obra  es una atinada y penetrante caracterización de la burguesía a finales del antiguo régimen republicano, capítulo inicial al cual sigue un análisis sectorial, con sucesivos capítulos dedicados a los hacendados azucareros, los colonos, los ganaderos, industriales, comerciantes y banqueros. Dentro de esa secuencia hay una sola excepción: un capítulo dedicado a la Iglesia Católica,  institución íntimamente vinculada a la burguesía en aquella época pero que no constituía una de sus ramas. Sin embargo, el apartado dedicado a la Iglesia, es indicativo de la atención que el investigador prestó al desempeño de las asociaciones e instituciones burguesas, decisivos agentes clasistas en medio del torbellino revolucionario. En un capítulo final, así como en sus conclusiones, Padula expone y resume las que a su juicio fueron causas de la derrota de la élite burguesa, destacando tanto la debilidad estructural de aquella clase social, como las incongruencias y divisiones que se pusieron de manifiesto en su enfrentamiento con la revolución.

Para comprender el desenlace de cualquier contienda es necesario examinar en estrecha correlación la actuación de ambos contrincantes; solo así es posible comprender las razones del éxito de los vencedores y del fracaso de los derrotados. Los estudios históricos, sociológicos o politológicos sobre la Revolución Cubana, incluso los realizados fuera de la isla, han dedicado mucha mayor atención a lo primero que a lo segundo. De ahí la importancia y los aportes de la obra de Padula que Temas pone a su alcance, en la cual se nos ofrece precisamente esa suerte de «visión de los vencidos» en la revolución.

El extenso estudio plasmado en La caída de la burguesía… maneja una impresionante cantidad de datos sobre acontecimientos y situaciones cuyas interioridades apenas son conocidas, o que hoy  han quedado en el olvido. Padula los examina con cuidado y los expone con coherencia, pero su texto no está libre  omisiones e inexactitudes. En ocasiones el autor es víctima del insuficiente conocimiento de ciertas peculiaridades de la sociedad cubana, o de su particular terminología, lo cual lo lleva –por ejemplo- a presentar a los hacendados como un sector agrícola dentro de la economía azucarera, cuando eran más que todo los propietarios de la industria, o a confundir por momentos los roles de hacendados y colonos. Varios de esos deslices han sido advertidos mediante notas del editor, pero otros seguramente se han escapado, lo cual demanda una lectura alerta. También pueden encontrarse datos que no fueron pasados con suficiente cuidado por la criba de la crítica histórica para establecer su exactitud o veracidad, descuidos que llevan al autor a incurrir en interpretaciones cuestionables. Pero aún en esas ocasiones, más frecuentes en el manejo de la información brindada por testimoniantes, el texto no pierde su valor, pues si bien el dato puede ser inexacto o deliberadamente falseado, el testimonio mismo es reflejo de mentalidades y revelador de procederes que tuvieron un peso indiscutible en el aciago destino de la burguesía cubana.

El soporte en CD-Rom en que se ha editado el libro condiciona su consulta al empleo de los dispositivos necesarios, pero tiene indiscutibles ventajas para la localización de los asuntos. La edición fue trabajada con esmero y aunque la traducción se compartió entre tres especialistas -María del Pilar Díaz Castañón, Laura Arcos y Olimpia Sigarroa-, no se perciben relevantes diferencias de estilo. Por más que la condición de tesis doctoral del texto resulte evidente, su fluida escritura hace fácil y amena la lectura.

Con la publicación de La caída de la burguesía: Cuba 1959-1961 Temas hace una notable contribución al mejor conocimiento de una etapa crucial de nuestra historia, de la cual queda aún mucho por investigar.

En la XXIX edición de la Feria del Libro de La Habana, la revista cubana de ciencias sociales Temas presentó el libro Estudios de género en Cuba. 25 años en Temas, de su colección digital ediciones TEMAS. Rafael Hernández, su director, me pidió que la presentara y así lo hice.

Antes de resumirles mis reflexiones sobre esta obra, les presento a los miembros del equipo que la convirtieron en un CD, especialistas a quienes los lectores solemos ignorar: Ana Molina fue la coordinadora de la edición; su editor y corrector, Ronald Ramírez; diseñó la cubierta con un toque «retro» Ernesto Niebla; el diseño interior para ebook corresponde a Yadira Rodríguez y Alejandro Villar tuvo a su cargo la «maquetación».

Comparto con nuestros lectores las ideas que me surgieron mientras leía el libro. En sus 769 páginas la obra contiene 29 artículos en el orden cronológico que la revista los publicó, entre 1995 y 2014. Estos fueron, en mi opinión, los años más duros de la transición socialista cubana que comenzó en 1961. A lo largo de este período las autoras analizaron lo que venía ocurriendo principalmente a las mujeres cubanas en comparación con los hombres, para extraer las particularidades de lo que ha significado ser mujer y, por supuesto, lo que las diferenciaba de los hombres cubanos. A fines de la década de los noventa aparecieron en Temas dos trabajos que incluyen por primera vez lo que denominaron «homosexualismo» y solo en 2014 hay un artículo que se dedica a tratar científicamente a las persona LGBTI en Cuba y, específicamente, a las personas «trans».

¿Quiénes escribieron estos 29 trabajos? Intento describirlos someramente con mi mirada sociológica. De los 25 autores, 24 son mujeres, por lo que a partir de aquí hablaré de «autoras». Hay entre ellas 22 cubanas y 3 son de EE. UU.; 19 de las autoras cubanas residen en La Habana, dos en Camagüey y una en Holguín. Por lo tanto, los trabajos están cargados de una visión «habanero centrista» que debe subsanarse en los números futuros de la revista. Entre las 22 autoras cubanas 13 nacieron en las décadas de 1940 y 1950 del siglo pasado, 8 en los años 60 y una autora nació en la década de 1930. Esto significa que todas crecieron, estudiaron desde la primaria hasta la universidad, se graduaron en maestrías y doctorados, obtuvieron las categorías docentes y científicas superiores después de 1959. Ejercieron simultáneamente sus labores en la docencia universitaria, la investigación, la literatura, el periodismo y el cine.

Cuando las autoras investigaron los problemas publicados en la revista Temas, habían experimentado en carne propia las transformaciones que la Revolución cubana produjo en toda la trama social y, en especial, en lo que significa ser mujer, ser hombre y ser LGBTQ. Luisa Campuzano resumiría estos avatares con el título de su artículo «Ser cubanas y no morir en el intento». Me atrevo a parafrasear el exergo con el que inicia Mirta Yáñez su trabajo, cuando cita del Génesis «Y entonces la mujer de Lot miró atrás a espaldas de él y se volvió estatua de sal», para atestiguar que las autoras de este libro nos atrevimos no solo a mirar atrás, sino que miramos el presente y el futuro sin pedir permisos… pero no nos convertimos en estatuas de sal.

Los 29 artículos son una muestra de cómo especialistas altamente calificadas en disciplinas de las ciencias sociales, las humanísticas, la psicología y la economía enseñan a los lectores sobre la evolución de los estudios de género en Cuba entre 1995 y 2014.

A medida que los interesados recorran los ensayos en el orden cronológico que aparecieron, comprobarán que la mayoría de ellos contiene una concepción dicotómica del género, porque lo identifican con lo que significa ser hombre y ser mujer. En esta dualidad enfatizan en el género femenino y, con este fin, comparan a las cubanas con los cubanos para sacar a la luz las especificidades de unas y de otros. Solo comienza a «abrirse» esta dicotomía para ir incluyendo poco a poco lo que hoy conocemos como LGBTQ en 1996 en un trabajo sobre cómo las religiones afrocubanas asumen a los hombres, a las mujeres, a los gays y a las lesbianas. Dos años después, en 1998, hay un segundo ensayo que evalúa la construcción cubana de los estereotipos femeninos, masculinos y «homosexuales». En 2004 el único autor masculino incluye a los homosexuales en su investigación sobre las masculinidades en Cuba. Tuvieron que pasar diez años más para que en el 2014 apareciera el estudio que resume los infinitos y entreverados factores sociales que explican las causas de la homofobia en Cuba, en nuestra historia y en el presente. Este ensayo comienza por explicar a los LGBTQ en Cuba para concentrarse en los programas para lograr incluir a las personas transexuales con plenos derechos a la sociedad. También en 2014 aparece un trabajo que estudia «la cara de género» de las personas inmersas en los empleos de la pequeña propiedad privada cubana que busca las especificidades con las que actúan en ellos las mujeres, los hombres, las lesbianas y los gays.

¿Cuáles son las cuestiones que trataron las autoras?

Comenzaron por estudiar a las mujeres en la literatura, en el cine y en la pintura, atendiendo a las funciones que cumplen en las tramas, destacando si existen diferencias al hacerlo si los creadores son hombres o mujeres e intentando acercarse a cómo los auditorios perciben estas peculiaridades. Las autoras son las cubanas Luisa Campuzano, Mirta Yáñez, Adelaida de Juan, Nara Araújo y Mercedes Santos Moray. Aparecen también ensayos acerca de las especificidades del empleo femenino en comparación con el masculino y atisbos de las manifestaciones entre las personas LGBTQ. Hay una especialista de EE.UU., Carollee Bengelsdorf, además de las cubanas María del Carmen Barcia, Yuliuva Hernández, Maribel Almaguer; Ana Lidia Torres, Dayma Echavarría, Dalia Virgilí y una servidora. Otros textos se dedican a la sexualidad, la diversidad sexual –siempre comparando a las mujeres con los hombres, con énfasis en las primeras– y hay un artículo dedicado a las masculinidades. Son tres los autores cubanos, Natividad Guerrero, Julio César González Pagés y Mariela Castro, más la norteamericana Susana Peña.

Las cubanas Mayda Álvarez, Inalvis Rodríguez y Lourdes Fernández se dedicaron a analizar los programas nacionales y las políticas sociales para desarrollar a las cubanas con plenos derechos. Tres trabajos incursionaron en el enfoque de género y resumieron analíticamente los estudios sobre la mujer escritos en Cuba y en Estados Unidos. Sus autoras son la norteamericana Carollee Bengelsdrof y las cubanas Inalvis Rodríguez y Marta Núñez, quien les escribe.

El resto de los tópicos solo fueron tratados por una autora. El de las mujeres jóvenes lo escribió María Isabel Domínguez; el de las mujeres en las religiones afrocubanas lo investigó María Margarita Castro; el dedicado a las mujeres en una zona rural fue responsabilidad de Maribel Almaguer y Ana Lidia Torres. Todas las que he mencionado son cubanas. La antropóloga norteamericana Helen Safa trató a las familias en el Caribe y, específicamente, en Cuba.

Llamo la atención a los editores de la revista Temas sobre tramas que estuvieron ausentes en estos 29 trabajos y que deben convocar a los autores para que escriban sobre ellos en próximos números: los relativos a los enfoques de género que trasciendan la dicotomía mujer/hombre e incorporen las particularidades que emanan de los estudios sobre las personas LGBTQ; los del racismo y el antirracismo; aquellos que profundicen en las desigualdades y en la pobreza; investigaciones sobre la violencia de género y la violencia familiar; los estudios rurales; más sobre las características similares y diferentes de acuerdo al género en los sectores públicos y privados y, por último, las imágenes sexistas, racistas, consumistas y prácticamente pornográficas que contienen los medios de comunicación cubanos.

Deseo resaltar que todas las autoras que aparecen en esta antología digital analizaron críticamente en sus obras los aspectos de las realidades cubanas que escogieron. ¿Cuáles fueron sus intenciones? Llamar la atención sobre la urgencia que tenemos en nuestro país de estudiar la evolución de las mujeres y su influencia en las relaciones de género, para comprender cada etapa de la transición socialista cubana, enfatizando desde la década de 1990 hasta hoy. Todas estas especialistas ofrecieron soluciones para que todas las ramas científicas, no solo las sociales, resolvieran estos vacíos de conocimientos. Asimismo, aprendieron de las historias de cada uno de los asuntos que estudiaron en Cuba e igualmente extrajeron experiencias de las investigaciones que se llevaron a cabo en otros países sobre estos temas para no perder el tiempo repitiendo los errores que ya se cometieron. Por ejemplo, la historiadora cubana María del Carmen Barcia nos ilustró sobre un asunto que ignoramos, el de los oficios que ejercían desde el siglo pasado las mujeres en el despalillo del tabaco, lo relativo a la proliferación de las costureras, así como el de las mecanógrafas y taquígrafas desde inicios del siglo xx.

Los textos alertaron a los dirigentes de nuestra mi nación sobre lo imperioso de incorporar una mirada de género a las decisiones y a las actuaciones que ellos llevan a cabo en todas las esferas del país. ¿Por qué afirmo rotundamente que esta es una posibilidad realista? Porque las autoras convencen con sus argumentos que no hay realidades femeninas ni de género homogéneas, sino una multiplicidad de ellas, lo que obliga a considerar las diferencias de razas, generaciones, regiones geográficas, profesiones, niveles educacionales y muchas otras más. Imbuidos en estos saberes, los decisores y los activistas pueden actuar, experimentar y rectificar sus políticas para hacer avanzar las relaciones de género y a Cuba toda.
Las autoras incorporan en sus investigaciones algo que pareciera ser una verdad de Perogrullo para todos, pero que de hecho se minimiza o simplemente se desconoce. En Cuba persisten modos de ser y de pensar patriarcales que explican por qué existen los prejuicios de la supremacía masculina y sexistas que subordinan a las mujeres y desprecian a los LGBTQ. Así los explican Natividad Guerrero y María Isabel Domínguez en sus textos sobre cómo se forman los estereotipos sexuales desde la niñez y cuánto chocan con los avances que se han alcanzado en la vida cubana.

La fuerte presencia de la ideología patriarcal entre los cubanos y las cubanas explica por qué la presencia femenina en distintas esferas sociales no significan que ellas posean una conciencia de lo que significa ser una mujer cubana y, mucho menos, estar inmersas en las relaciones de género que prevalecen en mi país. Esto lo reconocen las autoras que tratan el empoderamiento femenino como Mayda Álvarez.

Por último, este libro tiene una importancia que no podemos pasar por alto. Con las citas y las referencias de cada artículo se puede reconstruir una bibliografía del estado de los estudios de género en Cuba antes de 1959 y desde esta fecha hasta hoy. Se incluyen textos escritos por cubanos que residen en la isla y en el exterior, así como escritos de especialistas de otros países.

Cuando los lectores beban de sus páginas agregarán otros valores que yo no pude reconocer. ¡Que así sea!

"Veinticinco años después de su surgimiento, Temas constituye hoy un proyecto multiplataforma digital que mantiene como su núcleo fundamental la publicación periódica (3 -6 meses) de los números de la revista, que ahora se acerca a su número 100..."