US ignores Pope's condemnation of blockade
By Dara MacNeil
Given a choice between reporting on the alleged
debauchery of their president, or the depraved and
corrupt nature of their country's foreign policy, the
US media opted for the former.
Their sense of priorities was mirrored by colleagues
throughout the Western media.
Thus two days before John Paul II was due to condemn
the US blockade of Cuba as ``unjust and ethically
unacceptable'' a sizeable proportion of the US (and
world) media beat a hasty retreat from Havana and
returned to the US, there to delve into the more
salacious details of Bill Clinton's alleged
extra-curricular activities.
The Pope's remarkable condemnation of US policy towards
Cuba became a relative non-event.
Ironically, at the cost of acute personal embarrassment
to himself, President Clinton probably saved the US
body politic from a great deal more embarrassment and
criticism. That is not to suggest a conspiracy of any
sort. That misses the point entirely.
In the early 1990s, the Tory MP Alan Clark acquired a
degree of notoriety in the British press. This arose
from Mr Clark's admission to having had an affair with
the wife of a judge, and the woman's two daughters. The
revelation made Clark a household name in Britain. A
few years earlier Clark had laboured in obscurity, as
the country's Defence Procurement Minister.
In office he approved the sale of Hawk aircraft to the
Indonesian military. The contract was valued at £500
million. Purportedly for `training purposes' the Hawk
went on to be used in offensive actions against the
defenceless civilian population of occupied East Timor.
That should have made him household name in Britain.
It didn't. In short, Mr Clark's sexual adventures were
adjudged to be of greater moral import than aiding the
murder of innocent civilians.
Years later, Clark justified the sale when he told John
Pilger that his constituents (meaning himself) couldn't
care less about what one ``bunch of foreigners'' were
doing to another. Even then, Mr Clark's sexual
peccadilloes proved of far greater interest to the
British and international press. Similarly with the US
and President Clinton.
Nonetheless, it is over the longer term that the real
impact of the historic papal visit to Cuba will be
felt. Within the country, this may or may not be
reflected in a rise in religious (Catholic) observance.
It doesn't really matter anyway.
Despite the best efforts of some commentators to
demonstrate otherwise, Cuba is not a devotedly Catholic
country yearning to be free of the atheistic diktat.
Cuba is no Poland.
Even before the 1959 Revolution, practising Catholics
numbered less than 40% of the population. A smaller,
but still sizeable proportion of the population were
Protestant.
The Catholic establishment, however, quickly became a
focus for opposition to the new, revolutionary
government. Their cause was not helped by the vigour
with which Catholic authorities in the US promoted a
return to the days of Batista.
Many were also cognisant of the support given by the
Catholic establishment to Batista, in return for a
social and political pre-eminence that belied their
numerical strength in Cuba.
Others recalled how, even as late as the 1860s, the
Cuban Catholic church actively supported slavery,
arguing that the (black) slave would, through loyalty
and obedience, acquire a soul as pure as ``white sugar.''
Following the defeat of the Bay of Pigs invasion in
1961, the cause of Catholicism was further damaged.
Discovered among the effects of the invasion forces was
a leaflet, signed by the mercenaries' chaplain,
intended for distribution in Cuba.
It was addressed explicitly to the ``Catholics of Cuba''.
Thus, not only was the church seen to present a direct
threat to the Revolution, but it was also seen to be
openly sectarian. Cuba, after all, was never a
`Catholic' country. The leaflet concluded: ``Catholics:
long live Cuba, free, democratic and Catholic.''
In the eyes of many Cubans, the official Catholic
church was now wholly discredited. Thus, by the late
1980s, `observing' Catholics were estimated to number
less than 100,000.
Nonetheless, religious observance was not (as some have
claimed) banned. It was still permitted, albeit behind
the closed doors of churches and private homes. Indeed,
Castro frequently opposed the traditional conservatism
of the Catholic establishment with the example of
Camillo Torres - the 1960s Colombian priest who died
after taking up arms against his country's wealthy
elite.
By contrast, the country's Protestant churches were far
quicker to accept and, in time, work with the
Revolution. Many saw in Che Guevara's theory of the New
Man a distinct reflection of the New Man of Christian
theology.
Today, some of the Revolution's staunchest supporters
can be found in the ranks of Protestant and
Presbyterian churches. Nonetheless, for many, religion
per se has become a curious historical anachronism, a
dated relic of the old days.
Yet, despite the (Catholic) church-state tensions,
members of the clergy and religious lay workers did not
suffer the same fate as their colleagues in other Latin
American countries. In Guatemala, El Salvador and
pre-Sandinista Nicaragua grassroots church workers,
priests and nuns were routinely murdered by the US
backed authorities.
Indeed, it was in US financed El Salvador - not in Cuba
- that Archbishop Romero was gunned down by a state-run
death squad.
His crime was to demand an end to official murders and,
a week before his murder, to demand an end to US
military aid. It was that latter call which probably
spurred the regime to action.
It was El Salvador - not in Cuba - that four US nuns
were brutally raped and murdered by the same forces.
They had recently arrived from Sandinista Nicaragua, a
`crime' that carried the death penalty in El Salvador.
And it was in El Salvador - not in Cuba - that seven
Jesuits were massacred by death squads, in 1989. They
too had criticised the US-backed regime. So much for
religious freedom.
What will prove to be an enduring legacy of the papal
visit therefore, will not be measured in attendance at
Sunday mass. More crucial is the fact that the papal
visit has added substantially to the isolation of the
US internationally.
That an individual as virulently conservative as John
Paul 11 can reach a rapprochement with the `godless'
Cubans, merely serves to underline the utter
foolishness of the US position on Cuba. Their position
is fast becoming untenable.
Thus they now face opposition from a majority of the
world's nations (as expressed on six consecutive
occasions since 1992 in the UN General Assembly), the
European Union and the Organisation of American States.
The politically powerful voice of the papacy has now
lent its voice to that coalition.
Implicit in the papal visit was an acknowledgement of
Cuba's sovereignty and right to self-determination.
That will severely undermine the `moral righteousness'
of the anti-Castro catholic establishment in Miami. It
will also lead more Catholics throughout the US to
question the wisdom of their government's policy on
Cuba.
Doubtless, John Paul II secretly harbours the hope that
his visit will spark eruptions of devotion and fervour
in Havana. But, as the devotion and fervour weren't
really there to begin with, that seems unlikely.
However, perhaps most deserving of pity are those US
and international media elements who abandoned Cuba for
Washington. For in time it will become clear that the
`big story' of January 1998 was in Havana, and not Bill
Clinton's trousers.