Yesterday the Cuban revolution was betrayed by its own leaders. The following diplomatic conference notes which were intercepted and decrypted this morning may provide some insight into what happened.
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At the gate they paused, half frightened to go on but Glenn Greenwald led the way in. They tiptoed up to the building, and such reporters as were tall enough peered in at the conference room window. There, round the long table, sat half a dozen Americans and half a dozen of the more eminent Cubans, Fidel himself occupying the seat of honor at the head of the table. The Cubans appeared completely at ease with their former adversaries. The company had been enjoying a game of cards but had broken off for the moment, evidently in order to drink a toast. A large jug was circulating, and the mugs were being refilled with beer. No one noticed the wondering faces of the reporters that gazed in at the window.
Mr. Obama, of the United States, had stood up, his mug in his hand. In a moment, he said, he would ask the present company to drink a toast. But before doing so, there were a few words that he felt it incumbent upon him to say.
It was a source of great satisfaction to him, he said - and, he was sure, to all others present - to feel that a long period of mistrust and misunderstanding had now come to an end. There had been a time - not that he, or any of the present company, had shared such sentiments - but there had been a time when the respected leaders of Cuba had been regarded, he would not say with hostility, but perhaps with a certain measure of misgiving, by their northern neighbors. Unfortunate incidents had occurred, mistaken ideas had been current. It had been felt that the existence of a country populated and controlled by revolutionaries was somehow abnormal and was liable to have an unsettling effect in the neighborhood. Too many Americans had assumed, without due enquiry, that in such a country a spirit of license and indiscipline would prevail. They had been nervous about the effects upon their own citizens, especially upon the unemployed. But all such doubts were now dispelled. Today he and his friends had visited Cuba and inspected every inch of it with their own eyes, and what did they find? Not only the most up-to-date methods, but a discipline and an orderliness which should be an example to all Americans everywhere. He believed that he was right in saying that the people of Cuba did more work and received less food than any other people in the hemisphere. Indeed, he and his fellow-visitors today had observed many features which they intended to introduce in their own country immediately.
He would end his remarks, he said, by emphasizing once again the friendly feelings that subsisted, and ought to subsist, between Cuba and its neighbors. Between Cubans and Americans there was not, and there need not be, any clash of interests whatever. Their struggles and their difficulties were one. Was not the labor problem the same everywhere? Here it became apparent that Mr. Obama was about to spring some carefully prepared witticism on the company, but for a moment he was too overcome by amusement to be able to utter it. After much choking, during which he almost turned purple, he managed to get it out: “If you have your peasants to contend with,” he said, “we have our Blacks and Mexicans!” This bon mot set the table in a roar; and Mr. Obama once again congratulated the Cubans on the low rations, the long working hours, and the general absence of pampering which he had observed in Cuba.
And now, he said finally, he would ask the company to rise to their feet and make certain that their glasses were full. “Gentlemen,” concluded Mr. Obama, “gentlemen, I give you a toast: To the prosperity of Cuba!”
There was enthusiastic cheering and stamping of feet. Fidel was so gratified that he left his place and came round the table to clink his mug against Mr. Obama’s before emptying it. When the cheering had died down, Fidel, who had remained on his feet, intimated that he too had a few words to say.
Unlike most of Fidel’s speeches, it was short and to the point. He too, he said, was happy that the period of misunderstanding was at an end. For a long time there had been rumors - circulated, he had reason to think, by some malignant enemy - that there was something subversive and even revolutionary in the outlook of himself and his colleagues. They had been credited with attempting to stir up rebellion among the people of neighboring countries. Nothing could be further from the truth! Their sole wish, now and in the past, was to live at peace and in normal business relations with their neighbors. This nation which he had the honor to control, he added, was a cooperative enterprise. The title-deeds, which were in his own possession, were owned by all Cubans jointly.
He did not believe, he said, that any of the old suspicions still lingered, but certain changes had been made recently in the routine of the country which should have the effect of promoting confidence still further. Hitherto the people of the island had had a rather foolish custom of addressing one another as “Comrade.” This was to be suppressed. There had also been a very strange custom, whose origin was unknown, of Cuban leaders sporting beards, smoking cigars, and wearing military fatigues. This, too, would be suppressed, and the fatigues had already been sold off on eBay. His visitors might have observed, too, the flag which flew from the masthead. If so, they would perhaps have noted that the white star, red triangle, and blue stripes with which it had previously been marked had now been removed. It would be a plain white flag from now onwards.
He had only one criticism, he said, to make of Mr. Obama’s excellent and neighborly speech. Mr. Obama had referred throughout to “Cuba.” He could not of course know - for he, Fidel, was only now for the first time announcing it - that the name “Cuba” had been abolished. Henceforward the nation was to be known as “Juana” - which, he believed, was its correct and original name.
“Gentlemen,” concluded Fidel, “I will give you the same toast as before, but in a different form. Fill your glasses to the brim. Gentlemen, here is my toast: To the prosperity of Juana!”
There was the same hearty cheering as before, and the mugs were emptied to the dregs. But as the reporters outside gazed at the scene, it seemed to them that some strange thing was happening. What was it that had altered in the faces of the Juanans? Glenn Greenwald’s eyes flitted from one face to another. Some of them had five chins, some had four, some had three. But what was it that seemed to be melting and changing? Then, the applause having come to an end, the company took up their cards and continued the game that had been interrupted, and the reporters walked silently away.
But they had not gone twenty yards when they stopped short. An uproar of voices was coming from the conference room. They rushed back and looked through the window again. Yes, a violent quarrel was in progress. There were shoutings, bangings on the table, sharp suspicious glances, furious denials. The source of the trouble appeared to be that Fidel and Mr. Obama had each played an ace of spades simultaneously.
Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and they were all alike. No question, now, what had happened to the faces of the Juanans. The reporters outside looked from Juanan to American, and from American to Juanan, and from Juanan to American again; but already it was impossible to say which was which.
[with apologies to George Orwell]
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