[Congressional Record Volume 153, Number 24 (Thursday, February 8, 2007)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E295-E297]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




     LIFTING THE EMBARGO--THE BEST WAY TO PROMOTE DEMOCRACY IN CUBA

                                 ______
                                 

                         HON. CHARLES B. RANGEL

                              of new york

                    in the house of representatives

                       Thursday, February 8, 2007

  Mr. RANGEL. Madam Speaker, I rise today to point out the Bush 
administration's policy of isolating Cuba and bringing down the Castro 
government (or its successor) has no chance of success and enter into 
the Record the first of two parts to an article in the current issue of 
Foreign Affairs by Julia E. Sweig entitled ``Fidel's Final Victory.'' 
Dr. Sweig's article analyzes the reality of the current relationship 
between the U.S. and Cuba and advocates the lifting of the embargo as a 
means to a more effective advance U.S. interest in establishing an 
economic relationship with Cuba.
  I have long opposed U.S. policy towards Fidel Castro and Cuba, 
specifically the embargo, as I strongly believe that restricting travel 
and trade is a failed policy that hinders the American People from 
competing in the Cuban market and works against the promotion of 
democracy on the island. It also denies citizens of the United States 
the fundamental right and freedom to travel where they want and denies 
Cuban Americans to visit their relatives living in Cuba.
  Current United States policy toward Cuba is markedly out of touch 
with current world realities. Almost every nation has normal trade and 
diplomatic relations with Cuba, especially many of our allies such as 
Israel, Spain, China and other European nations. Instead of collapsing, 
the Cuban economy is growing at a rate of 8 percent a year, and the 
government has new and profitable relationship involving crude oil 
drilling operations off of the Cuban coast with China in conjunction 
with India, Norway and Spain.
  It is evident that continuing the current course and making threats 
about what kind of change is and is not acceptable after Fidel, the 
Bush administration will only slow the pace of liberalization and 
political reform in Cuba, guaranteeing many more years of hostility 
between the two countries.
  The best approach to dealing with post-Fidel Cuba is by immediately 
proposing bilateral crisis management and confidence-building measures, 
ending economic sanctions, and by stepping out of the way of Cuban 
Americans and other Americans who wish to travel freely to Cuba. 
Further, lifting the embargo now will prevent American businesses from 
falling even further behind as foreign competitors in this market. I 
urge you to consider H.R. 624, a bill to lift the trade embargo on Cuba 
and for other purposes.

                         Fidel's Final Victory

                          (By Julia E. Sweig)

       Summary: The smooth transfer of power from Fidel Castro to 
     his successors is exposing the willful ignorance and wishful 
     thinking of U.S. policy toward Cuba. The post-Fidel 
     transition is already well under way, and change in Cuba will 
     come only gradually from here on out. With or without Fidel, 
     renewed U.S. efforts to topple the revolutionary regime in 
     Havana can do no good--and have the potential to do 
     considerable harm.
       Julia E. Sweig is Nelson and David Rockefeller Senior 
     Fellow and Director of Latin America Studies at the Council 
     on Foreign Relations. She is the author of Inside the Cuban 
     Revolution: Fidel Castro and the Urban Underground and 
     Friendly fire: Losing

[[Page E296]]

     Friends and Making Enemies in the Anti-American Century.


                           CUBA AFTER CASTRO?

       Ever since Fidel Castro gained power in 1959, Washington 
     and the Cuban exile community have been eagerly awaiting the 
     moment when he would lose it--at which point, the thinking 
     went, they would have carte blanche to remake Cuba in their 
     own image. Without Fidel's iron fist to keep Cubans in their 
     place, the island would erupt into a collective demand for 
     rapid change. The long-oppressed population would overthrow 
     Fidel's revolutionary cronies and clamor for capital, 
     expertise, and leadership from the north to transform Cuba 
     into a market democracy with strong ties to the United 
     States.
       But that moment has come and gone--and none of what 
     Washington and the exiles anticipated has come to pass. Even 
     as Cuba-watchers speculate about how much longer the ailing 
     Fidel will survive, the post-Fidel transition is already well 
     under way. Power has been successfully transferred to a new 
     set of leaders, whose priority is to preserve the system 
     while permitting only very gradual reform. Cubans have not 
     revolted, and their national identity remains tied to the 
     defense of the homeland against U.S. attacks on its 
     sovereignty. As the post-Fidel regime responds to pent-up 
     demands for more democratic participation and economic 
     opportunity, Cuba will undoubtedly change--but the pace and 
     nature of that change will be mostly imperceptible to the 
     naked American eye.
       Fidel's almost five decades in power came to a close last 
     summer not with the expected bang, or even really a whimper, 
     but in slow motion, with Fidel himself orchestrating the 
     transition. The transfer of authority from Fidel to his 
     younger brother, Raul, and half a dozen loyalists--who have 
     been running the country under Fidel's watch for decades--has 
     been notably smooth and stable. Not one violent episode in 
     Cuban streets. No massive exodus of refugees. And despite an 
     initial wave of euphoria in Miami, not one boat leaving a 
     Florida port for the 90-mile trip. Within Cuba, whether Fidel 
     himself survives for weeks, months, or years is now in many 
     ways beside the point.
       In Washington, however, Cuba policy--aimed essentially at 
     regime change--has long been dominated by wishful thinking 
     ever more disconnected from the reality on the island. Thanks 
     to the votes and campaign contributions of the 1.5 million 
     Cuban Americans who live in Florida and New Jersey, domestic 
     politics has driven policymaking. That tendency has been 
     indulged by a U.S. intelligence community hamstrung by a 
     breathtaking and largely self-imposed isolation from Cuba and 
     reinforced by a political environment that rewards feeding 
     the White House whatever it wants to hear. Why alter the 
     status quo when it is so familiar, so well funded, and so 
     rhetorically pleasing to politicians in both parties?
       But if consigning Cuba to domestic politics has been the 
     path of least resistance so far, it will begin to have real 
     costs as the post-Fidel transition continues--for Cuba and 
     the United States alike. Fidel's death, especially if it 
     comes in the run-up to a presidential election, could bring 
     instability precisely because of the perception in the United 
     States that Cuba will be vulnerable to meddling from abroad. 
     Some exiles may try to draw the United States into direct 
     conflict with Havana, whether by egging on potential Cuban 
     refugees to take to the Florida Straits or by appealing to 
     Congress, the White House, and the Pentagon to attempt to 
     strangle the post-Fidel government.
       Washington must finally wake up to the reality of how and 
     why the Castro regime has proved so durable--and recognize 
     that, as a result of its willful ignorance, it has few tools 
     with which to effectively influence Cuba after Fidel is gone. 
     With U.S. credibility in Latin America and the rest of the 
     world at an all-time low, it is time to put to rest a policy 
     that Fidel's handover of power has already so clearly exposed 
     as a complete failure.


                         CHANGE IN THE WEATHER

       On July 31, 2006, Fidel Castro's staff secretary made an 
     announcement: Fidel, just days away from his 80th birthday, 
     had undergone major surgery and turned over ``provisional 
     power'' to his 75-year-old brother, Raul, and six senior 
     officials. The gravity of Fidel's illness (rumored to be 
     either terminal intestinal cancer or severe diverticulitis 
     with complications) was immediately clear, both from 
     photographs of the clearly weakened figure and from Fidel's 
     own dire-sounding statements beseeching Cubans to prepare for 
     his demise. Across the island, an air of resignation and 
     anticipation took hold.
       The dead of August, with its intense heat and humidity, is 
     a nerve-racking time in Cuba, but as rumors sped from home to 
     home, there was a stunning display of orderliness and 
     seriousness in the streets. Life continued: people went to 
     work and took vacations, watched telenovelas and bootlegged 
     DVDs and programs from the Discovery and History channels, 
     waited in lines for buses and weekly rations, made their 
     daily black-market purchases--repeating the rituals that have 
     etched a deep mark in the Cuban psyche. Only in Miami were 
     some Cubans partying, hoping that Fidel's illness would soon 
     turn to death, not only of a man but also of a half century 
     of divided families and mutual hatred.
       Raul quickly assumed Fidel's duties as first secretary of 
     the Communist Party, head of the Politburo, and president of 
     the Council of State (and retained control of the armed 
     forces and intelligence services). The other deputies--two of 
     whom had worked closely with the Castro brothers since the 
     revolution and four of whom had emerged as major players in 
     the 1990s--took over the other key departments. Ranging in 
     age from their mid-40s through their 70s, they had been 
     preparing for this transition to collective leadership for 
     years. Jose Ramon Balaguer, a doctor who fought as a 
     guerrilla in the Sierra Maestra during the revolution, 
     assumed authority over public health. Jose Ramon Machado 
     Ventura, another doctor who fought in the Sierra, and Esteban 
     Lazo Hernandez now share power over education. Carlos Lage 
     Davila--a key architect of the economic reforms of the 1990s, 
     including efforts to bring in foreign investment--took charge 
     of the energy sector. Francisco Soberon Valdes, president of 
     the Central Bank of Cuba, and Felipe Perez Roque, minister of 
     foreign affairs, took over finances in those areas.
       At first, U.S. officials simply admitted that they had 
     almost no information about Fidel's illness or plans for 
     succession. President George W. Bush said little beyond 
     soberly (and surprisingly) pointing out that the next leader 
     of Cuba would come from Cuba--a much-needed warning to the 
     small yet influential group of hard-line exiles (Republican 
     Florida Congressman Lincoln Diaz-Balart, a nephew of Fidel's, 
     prominent among them) with aspirations to post-Fidel 
     presidential politics.
       A few weeks into the Fidel deathwatch, Raul gave an 
     interview clearly meant for U.S. consumption. Cuba, he said, 
     ``has always been ready to normalize relations on the basis 
     of equality. But we will not accept the arrogant and 
     interventionist policies of this administration,'' nor will 
     the United States win concessions on Cuba's domestic 
     political model. A few days later, U.S. Assistant Secretary 
     of State for Western Hemisphere Affairs Thomas Shannon 
     responded in kind. Washington, he said, would consider 
     lifting its embargo--but only if Cuba established a route to 
     multiparty democracy, released all political prisoners, and 
     allowed independent civil-society organizations. With or 
     without Fidel, the two governments were stuck where they have 
     been for years: Havana ready to talk about everything except 
     the one condition on which Washington will not budge, 
     Washington offering something Havana does not unconditionally 
     want in exchange for something it is not willing to give.
       From Washington's perspective, this paralysis may seem only 
     temporary. Shannon compared post-Fidel Cuba to a helicopter 
     with a broken rotor--the implication being that a crash is 
     imminent. But that view, pervasive among U.S. policymakers, 
     ignores the uncomfortable truth about Cuba under the Castro 
     regime.
       Despite Fidel's overwhelming personal authority and Raul's 
     critical institution-building abilities, the government rests 
     on far more than just the charisma, authority, and legend of 
     these two figures.


                         politically incorrect

       Cuba is far from a multiparty democracy, but it is a 
     functioning country with highly opinionated citizens where 
     locally elected officials (albeit all from one party) worry 
     about issues such as garbage collection, public 
     transportation, employment, education, health care, and 
     safety. Although plagued by worsening corruption, Cuban 
     institutions are staffed by an educated civil service, 
     battle-tested military officers, a capable diplomatic corps, 
     and a skilled work force. Cuban citizens are highly literate, 
     cosmopolitan, endlessly entrepreneurial, and by global 
     standards quite healthy.
       Critics of the Castro regime cringe at such depictions and 
     have worked hard to focus Washington and the world's 
     attention on human rights abuses, political prisoners, and 
     economic and political deprivations. Although those concerns 
     are legitimate, they do not make up for an unwillingness to 
     understand the sources of Fidel's legitimacy--or the features 
     of the status quo that will sustain Raul and the collective 
     leadership now in place. On a trip to Cuba in November, I 
     spoke with a host of senior officials, foreign diplomats, 
     intellectuals, and regime critics to get a sense of how those 
     on the ground see the island's future. (I have traveled to 
     Cuba nearly 30 times since 1984 and met with everyone from 
     Fidel himself to human rights activists and political 
     prisoners.) People at all levels of the Cuban government and 
     the Communist Party were enormously confident of the regime's 
     ability to survive Fidel's passing. In and out of government 
     circles, critics and supporters alike--including in the 
     state-run press--readily acknowledge major problems with 
     productivity and the delivery of goods and services. But the 
     regime's still-viable entitlement programs and a widespread 
     sense that Raul is the right man to confront corruption and 
     bring accountable governance give the current leadership more 
     legitimacy than it could possibly derive from repression 
     alone (the usual explanation foreigners give for the regime's 
     staying power).
       The regime's continued defiance of the United States also 
     helps. In Cuba's national narrative, outside powers--whether 
     Spain in the nineteenth century or the United States in the 
     twentieth--have preyed on Cuba's internal division to 
     dominate Cuban politics. Revolutionary ideology emphasizes 
     this history of thwarted independence and imperialist 
     meddling, from the Spanish-American

[[Page E297]]

     War to the Bay of Pigs, to sustain a national consensus. 
     Unity at home, the message goes, is the best defense against 
     the only external power Cuba still regards as a threat--the 
     United States.
       To give Cubans a stake in this tradeoff between an open 
     society and sovereign nationhood, the revolution built 
     social, educational, and health programs that remain the envy 
     of the developing world. Public education became accessible 
     to the entire population, allowing older generations of 
     illiterate peasants to watch their children and grandchildren 
     become doctors and scientists; by 1979, Cuba's literacy rates 
     had risen above 90 percent. Life expectancy went from under 
     60 years at the time of the revolution to almost 80 today 
     (virtually identical to life expectancy in the United 
     States). Although infectious disease levels have been 
     historically lower in Cuba than in many parts of Latin 
     America, the revolutionary government's public vaccination 
     programs completely eliminated polio, diphtheria, tetanus, 
     meningitis, and measles. In these ways, the Cuban state truly 
     has served the poor underclass rather than catering to the 
     domestic elite and its American allies.
       Foreign policy, meanwhile, put the island on the map 
     geopolitically. The Cubans used the Soviets (who regarded the 
     brash young revolutionaries as reckless) for money, weapons, 
     and insulation from their implacable enemy to the north. 
     Although the government's repression of dissent and tight 
     control over the economy drove many out of the country and 
     turned many others against the Castro regime, most Cubans 
     came to expect the state to guarantee their welfare, deliver 
     the international standing they regard as their cultural and 
     historical destiny, and keep the United States at a healthy 
     distance.
       The end of the Cold War seriously threatened this status 
     quo. The Soviet Union withdrew its $4 billion annual subsidy, 
     and the economy contracted by 35 percent overnight. Cuba's 
     political elite recognized that without Soviet support, the 
     survival of the revolutionary regime was in peril--and, with 
     Fidel's reluctant acquiescence, fashioned a pragmatic 
     response to save it. Cuban officials traveling abroad 
     started using once-anathema terms, such as ``civil 
     society.'' Proposals were circulated to include multiple 
     candidates (although all from the Communist Party) in 
     National Assembly elections and to permit small private 
     businesses. The government legalized self-employment in 
     some 200 service trades, converted state farms to 
     collectively owned cooperatives, and allowed the opening 
     of small farmers' markets. At Raul's instigation, state 
     enterprises adopted capitalist accounting and business 
     practices; some managers were sent to European business 
     schools. As the notion of a ``socialist enterprise'' 
     became increasingly unsustainable, words like ``market,'' 
     ``efficiency,'' ``ownership,'' ``property,'' and 
     ``competition'' began to crop up with ever more frequency 
     in the state-controlled press and in public-policy 
     debates. Foreign investment from Europe, Latin America, 
     Canada, China, and Israel gave a boost to agriculture and 
     the tourism, mining, telecommunications, pharmaceutical, 
     biotechnology, and oil industries.
       These changes rendered Cuba almost unrecognizable compared 
     with the Cuba of the Soviet era, but they also allowed 
     Fidel's government to regain its footing. The economy began 
     to recover, and health and educational programs started to 
     deliver again. By the end of the 1990s, Cuba's infant 
     mortality rate (approximately six deaths per 100,000 births) 
     had dropped below that of the United States, and close to 100 
     percent of children were enrolled in school full time through 
     ninth grade. Housing, although deteriorating and in desperate 
     need of modernization, remained virtually free. And a 
     cosmopolitan society--albeit one controlled in many ways by 
     the state--grew increasingly connected to the world through 
     cultural exchanges, sporting events, scientific cooperation, 
     health programs, technology, trade, and diplomacy. Moreover, 
     by 2002, total remittance inflows reached $1 billion, and 
     nearly half of the Cuban population had access to dollars 
     from family abroad.
       In 2004, a process of ``recentralization'' began: the state 
     replaced the dollar with a convertible currency, stepped up 
     tax collection from the self-employed sector, and imposed 
     stricter controls on revenue expenditures by state 
     enterprises. But even with these controls over economic 
     activity, the black market is everywhere. Official salaries 
     are never enough to make ends meet, and the economy has 
     become a hybrid of control, chaos, and free-for-all. The 
     rules of the game are established and broken at every turn, 
     and most Cubans have to violate some law to get by. The 
     administrators of state enterprises steal and then sell the 
     inputs they get from the government, forcing workers to 
     purchase themselves the supplies they need to do their jobs--
     rubber for the shoemaker, drinking glasses for the bartender, 
     cooking oil for the chef--in order to fill production quotas.
       At the same time, the revolution's investment in human 
     capital has made Cuba uniquely well positioned to take 
     advantage of the global economy. In fact, the island faces an 
     overcapacity of professional and scientific talent, since it 
     lacks the industrial base and foreign investment necessary to 
     create a large number of productive skilled jobs. With 10,000 
     students in its science and technology university and already 
     successful joint pharmaceutical ventures with China and 
     Malaysia, Cuba is poised to compete with the upper ranks of 
     developing nations.

                          ____________________