Picture a photo of a girl in a blue summer dress, posing on a vintage red Chevy, surrounded by decaying architecture with the “capitolio,” modeled after our own, in the background. Underneath the photo are millions of comments from people, impressed with how picturesque the city is, tagging their friends saying, “we need to visit!”
The irony is overwhelming. Someone with the freedom to travel outside her own country, to post on social media uncensored, with a symbol of democracy in the background … all from Havana, Cuba.
Havana, where the majority of Cubans don’t have access to the Internet, and where the few who do have only restricted and regime-monitored access. Havana, where there is no democracy, freedom of speech, freedom of the press or any other fundamental human right that the girl posting the picture gets to enjoy in her home country.
When a friend of mine posted a picture of an article celebrating the “transition of power” in Cuba, I messaged her privately to explain that the so-called transition did not actually change anything for the millions still suffering under the communist regime. Realizing her naivete about the situation in Cuba, she quickly posted a screenshot of our conversation to show her followers that there is more to Cuba than meets the eye.
And that made me wonder – how many of my peers are actually aware of the reality in Cuba?
Born and raised in Miami, or North Cuba as it is often referred to, I grew up surrounded by a diaspora of people fleeing the political situation in their country. I grew up knowing that the communist Castro regime silenced dissidents through beatings and imprisonment, took away citizens’ property, and used the military to take control of businesses, distributed the profits to its supporters. Many were forced to flee the country on makeshift boats to pursue freedom and economic opportunity in the United States.
When Fidel Castro died, the streets of Little Havana were crowded with people banging pots and pans, carrying the Cuban flag. They yelled and sang and celebrated the death of the man responsible for so much of their suffering. I remember seeing a picture of my friend’s grandparents; smiling, with the Cuban flag around them. My friend wrote of how growing up, she had watched them sit quietly in a room listening to Cuando Salí de Cuba, longing for their native home. They are the fortunate ones.
There are still roughly 11 million people left on the island – people who live in poverty after the regime took their home. People like the Damas de Blanco, who march silently to mass every Sunday holding pictures of relatives that were arrested or still in prison for speaking out against the regime; they are brutally beaten and incarcerated. People like Danilo Maldonado (El Sexto), Dr. Oscar Biscet, Guillermo Farinas, the list goes on and on.
But what makes the situation worse is that the girl posing in the picture is a famous actress with 28 million followers. As a person with significant influence, it is irresponsible to visit Cuba without acknowledging the plight of Cubans or condemning the repressive regime.
As the comments showed, it only prompted more people, equally ignorant of Cuba’s dire situation, to desire to visit. It is unconscionable not to stand with the courageous men and women who face repercussions for fighting against the regime’s daily human rights violations. For those of us in the free world, it is our duty to speak out against the abuses of dictatorships around the world – especially in the ones in our own backyard. And also to send a strong and clear message of support to the people stuck dreaming of a brighter tomorrow, a free tomorrow.
Elie Wiesel wrote “We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”
We must choose to not be silent. We must be responsible for our actions and what they represent. There are too many people suffering to claim ignorance.
Antonella Davalos works for Congresswoman Ileana Ros-Lehtinen, Chairman Emeritus of the House Foreign Affairs Committee.
