SermonsIrakere

The Presidential Palace/Museum of the Revolution and La Colmenita

January 26, 2025

The next morning, we devoted ourselves to sightseeing. A straight 20-minute walk down San Rafael Street took us to the Old City of Havana, with the statue below at the end. Art permeates Havana. Cuba promotes music, visual art, and dance in schools from a young age. From what I have observed, artists appear to be more revered than sports heroes. In 2021, their call to the government for more freedom of expression caught the regime and much of the world by surprise. It also resulted in some of the artists serving prison sentences.

Our next stop was a visit to the former Presidential palace of Cuba that the government turned into the Museum of the Revolution in 1973 and a National Monument in 2010. But first, Ken got a chance to check out some of Cuba’s famous vintage cars:

The Plaza we crossed to get to the palace was the first place we encountered begging—she was an old, clearly malnourished woman. I don’t remember seeing people like her during our first trip to Cuba nine years ago.

The Presidential Palace

Ornate stone palace with domed cupola. Tank parked in front.
Presidential palace

Because one of Cuba’s frequent electrical blackouts had struck that day, the museum inside the the palace had no lights. Therefore, the following photos are dimmer than I would have liked, even with all the fancy adjustments on my iPhone. All the photos have English translations that you can read if you click on the photos, as do the next set of photos. To sum up the attitude of the museum toward these reminders of pre-revolutionary times, consider the comment on the office of the Presidents of Cuba between 1920-1965: “In this place, the most anti-popular, proimperialist (sic) and macabre decrees and laws that governed the national scene before 1959 were endorsed.”

Resistance

The next set of photos (below the picture of George Washington) chronicles the history of resistance in Cuba from the time of Indigenous people resisting Christopher Columbus and the conquistadors to the Cuban Revolution in the 1950s-60s. The three Indigenous groups who lived there at the time of Columbus’s arrival were the Taíno, Ciboney, and Guanajatabey. By 1544, Spaniards had decimated the native population from a conservative estimate of 112,000 people to 893 people, according to a count by Bishop Diego de Sarmiento. Criollo first referred to Spanish people born in Cuba, then to those who had intermarried with Indigenous and enslaved African people. They rebelled against the Colonial Government three times in the early 18th century, and resisted the English invasion during the Seven Years War or the First World War , as Churchill called it. And as long as we’re going to reframe things, it was a time when the English Crown authorized the British Navy and English privateers to be pirates and steal gold from Spanish ships that the Spanish had stolen from the New World.

From the time the Spaniards introduced slavery to the Island in the 16th century, enslaved people had probably rebelled against their enslavers, but from 1763 with the wealth coming in from sugarcane and coffee plantations, it had become a necessary cog in the capitalist enterprise, and insurrections became frequent. In the early 19th century social critics like Padre Felix Varela and Jose Saco spoke out against slavery and other social injustices.

Now we get to Jose Martí.

Imagine George Washington. If you can’t, I have provided Gilbert Stuart’s portrait to the left. Now, imagine that George Washington was a sickly abolitionist, journalist, poet and writer, who fought and died in the revolution that freed Cuba from colonial rule. If you can imagine George Washington comprising all these elements, you will understand what Jose Martí represents to the Cuban people.

Interestingly, a lot of of the Cuban intellectuals like Varela, Saco and Marti spent years in New York City, writing in exile.

The Ten Years’ War was an uprising was led by Cuban-born planters and other wealthy natives. On 10 October 1868, sugar mill owner Carlos Manuel de Céspedes and his followers proclaimed independence. This was the first of three liberation wars that Cuba fought against Spain, the other two being the Little War (1879–1880) and the Cuban War of Independence (1895–1898).  The painting behind the velvet rope represents the Constitutional Assembly of Guáimaro, in which representatives of areas that joined the uprising met and decided what they wanted their government to look like. One decision that they overwhelmingly agreed upon was the separation of civil and military powers with the latter being subordinate to the former. They elected Céspedes as president of the assembly and reconstituted themselves as the House of Representatives.

From 1929 to 1933, the Cuban people rose up to resist the dictatorship of dictatorship imposed by Gerardo Machado, the “Donkey with Claws.”

In 1952, former president Fulgencio Batista overthrew the government in a coup. While some criticisms of the Cuban government’s human rights abuses since Castro took over in 1959 are legitimate,* we do not typically hear about the human rights abuses under the Batista’s regime. The death toll of dissidents killed under his regime ranges from hundreds up to 20,000—the uncertainty lying in the fact that many were disappeared by Batista’s security forces and never heard from again. Hundreds were tortured to death. Batista also had warm relations with U.S. organized crime personalities, like Meyer Lansky and Lucky Luciano. Together they turned Havana into what playwright Arthur Miller called, “”hopelessly corrupt, a Mafia playground, (and) a bordello for Americans and other foreigners.” For all these reasons, Castro’s rebels had broad popular support when they toppled Batista’s government. Some of those who fought with him and were hoping for democratic elections were later dismayed when the elections never took place. And of course, it did not matter to the Cuban elite that Castro’s reforms helped the great majority of Cuban people become better educated, healthier, and food-secure after these elites fled the country.

Amnesty International, in its reports on the state of human rights in Cuba, will describe the harassment and imprisonment of dissidents.† But it usually includes a paragraph on the U.S. embargo on Cuba:

IIn other words, the embargo creates a siege mentality in Cuba. If the U.S. lifted the political and economic pressure, as it began to do under the Obama Administration, the government would feel more comfortable expanding some democratic structures that are already in place.

Also, Cuba, Laos, and Vietnam are the only Communist countries left in the world. (China has vast wealth disparity amongst its citizens, which means it cannot be Communist, and a fascist monarchical clan rules North Korea.) The U.S. trades with both Laos and Vietnam. It punishes Cuba only because it can.

La Colmenita

In the evening we went to attend a performance of La Colmenita, which I mentioned in the last post. I probably should have looked up how to take pictures in the dark with my fancy iPhone camera, but these were the best I have, after a lot of editing. “La Colmenita,” means “the little beehive” which explains why the children dress in bee costumes. Founded by Carlos Alberto Cremata, this children’s theater group has traveled all over the world. When Michael and I were here with the Witness for Peace delegation nine years ago, we learned that on their one and only tour of the United States, La Colmenita performed at one of the most impoverished schools in Los Angeles. After seeing the dilapidated state of the building and learning that the school could not afford music or art programs, the children decided to donate the money they earned touring California to that school so the children there could have music and art again.

The performance we attended was dedicated to the ground-breaking Afro-Cuban jazz band, Irakere. It began with all the children singing and dancing on state, followed by a Teen Bee narrator explaining events that followed, with intermissions of Afro-Latin, and Latin Jazz music, including a tribute to Irakere. In the first play, a little girl in a Heidi dress appeared (circled in black below) and watched a procession of animals each claiming that they were the best dancers. After that, a Cuban version of Goldilocks unfolded, with the little girl eating the baby bear’s soup, instead of oatmeal, and lying in his bed. Predictably, the bears came home, a chase ensued, but the play ended with everyone dancing on the stage (the adults sitting on the stage behind music stands were the people who voiced the characters in animal costumes.)

After La Colmenita, we went to Danielle’s Bed and Breakfast to welcome her, and the eight of us had dinner. Judy, Ken, and I went back to sleep. Camila, Danielle, Dawn, Jose, and Michael went to El Floridita, so that a Danielle could listen to the live music—that night, the bar featured a female singer. Michael et al. were unsuccessful in their efforts to convince Danielle to sing

Miscellanea

Other important aspects of the day: A perfect cup of latte and a cart decorated with old newspapers. Roughly translated, the phrase written on the bottom ridge of the cart says, “What a tremendous source of pride it is to be Cuban!”

I’ll close with Jose Martí’s most famous poem, Guantanamera, later turned into a song made famous in the U.S by Pete Seeger.

*A lot are illegitimate. For example, in the first couple of years after overthrowing Batista’s dictatorship, Castro’s government practically eliminated illiteracy. His detractors claim this was a bad thing because the now-literate peasants could read the government’s propaganda.

†But compare this report to some of Amnesty’s reports on places where Community Peacemaker Teams (formerly Christian Peacemaker Teams) works: The West Bank, Colombia, Iraqi-Kurdistan, and the Aegean Islands.

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