When I arrived in Cuba, the first aspect of the
country that struck me was its patriotism. Images of Fidel Castro, Ché Guevara,
and other revolutionary heroes watch over many parts of the city of Havana.
Billboards on the highway and on businesses read “Viva Fidel,” “Todos somos
Fidel” (We are all Fidel) and variations of “Celebrando 58 años de la
Revolución” (celebrating 58 years of the Revolution). In downtown Havana,
streets are named after various heroes, and statues are arranged all over the
city. La Plaza de la Revolución has building-sized portraits of Castro and
Guevara. A statue memorializing Calixto García, a leader of the Cuban War of
Independence (what people in the United States call the Spanish-American War),
has etched on the side a quote that stuck with me: “Morir por la patria es
vivir” (To die for the homeland is to live).
On our third night in Cuba, my program and I attended a celebration in honor of the birthday of José Martí, known as the godfather of Cuban independence. Martí is one of the only people who all Cubans—whether for or against the Revolution—can support. This celebration had the aura of a political march, complete with torches, chants, and signs. Raúl Castro gave a speech about students as the future leaders of the Revolution, and he was met with a roaring ovation. Throughout the march, there were many loudspeakers with a booming voice leading chants that varied in message, from the neutrally patriotic “Viva la patria” to the pro-Castro-government chant of “Yo soy Fidel.” Some voices led chants organically, while others followed the lead of the speakers.
How do we separate patriotism from propaganda? What does it mean to be patriotic in a country that has known only one pair of brothers as its leaders for the past 58 years? How much of this support for Fidel Castro is organic, and how much is imposed by the government? Depending on whom I spoke with, these questions had an array of answers. For an assignment in my Theory of the Cuban Revolution class, I asked people who were alive for the Revolution their thoughts on it. Many people’s faces lit up when I asked about their memories of 1959. Of the people who I spoke with, who were alive when the 26th of July Movement declared victory, many generally supported the Revolution and the way that Castro governed—obviously these individuals had survived the Revolution without suffering exile or worse. Many hated the previous dictator, Fulgencio Batista, and the tiered economic stagnancy that he represented, and I got the general sense that, of the people I asked, many had been living happily under the Castros.
The young people I’ve spoken to so far seemed to feel more lukewarm about the Revolution and its constant shows of patriotism. When I asked them about the march for José Martí, many shrugged their shoulders and seemed neither excited nor annoyed at the prospect of its occurrence. For some who I talked to, the march was just an event in which they engaged, more cultural than political. While some students genuinely appreciated Fidel Castro, I got the sense that many didn’t feel the same personal connection to Castro that many of the older citizens did. The students I’ve spoken to seem split on their future in the country—which is normal for students when one asks about their future. One dental student I spoke to wants to finish her studies and move to Spain, never looking back to Cuba, while a philosophy student wants to study in England and then return to Cuba for work.
My first two weeks have given me a chance to compare and contrast the various shows of patriotism in Cuba and in the United States. Both have an array of organic and top-down displays of patriotism. America has everything from government-sponsored military appreciation days at sporting events, to homemade fireworks on the Fourth of July, while Cuba has everything from government-sponsored billboards with Fidel Castro’s and Ché Guevara’s faces on them, to watercolor paintings in small businesses saying “Viva la Revolución.” While at first I felt suffocated by constant displays of Cuban patriotism, which I initially thought of as propaganda, I changed my view once I looked inwards to my home country, where patriotism runs through the very fabric of the flag and the society.
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