lunes, agosto 02, 2010

DOS ARTÍCULOS DE MARY ANASTASIA O'GRADY: Zapata Lives y Viva Zapata

Zapata Vive


Castro fuerza a disidentes a aceptar el exilio como el precio de la liberación de sus mazmorras.

Tomado de http://online.wsj.com


Por Mary Anastasia O'Grady

Se suponía que el anuncio que Cuba hizo el mes pasado de que liberará a 52 prisioneros políticos actualmente encarcelados ayudaría a reparar la imagen internacional del régimen tras la muerte de Orlando Zapata.

La estrategia no está funcionando. Los 21 que ya fueron puestos en libertad y llegaron a España están relatando el infierno que es la Cuba dirigida por Castro. Y al menos 10 se rehúsan a salir del país. El espíritu de Zapata vive.
[Mary]

En diciembre de 2009, Zapata, que llevaba casi siete años pudriéndose en una celda de una prisión infestada de ratas y sufriendo continuas torturas, emprendió una huelga de hambre en nombre de todos los prisioneros de conciencia de Cuba. Estaba protestando no sólo por el encarcelamiento injusto de disidentes pacíficos, sino también por la crueldad dentro de los calabozos. El régimen intentó desesperadamente doblegar su resistencia, incluso negándole agua durante un tiempo. Eso condujo a una falla renal y, finalmente, a su muerte el 23 de febrero.

El fallecimiento de Zapata desató la indignación internacional y, el 7 de julio, el régimen cedió ante la presión. Accedió a liberar a los periodistas independientes, escritores y defensores de la democracia que fueron encerrados en 2003 durante la operación contra la oposición conocida como la Primavera Negra.

No obstante, solamente los más crédulos podrían interpretar la forzada conformidad de Castro como un respiro en la tiranía. En su lugar, se trata de una cínica treta para limpiarle la cara a la dictadura y, también, de un intento de recuperar decoro para los políticos del mundo que defienden a los Castro, como el ministro español de Asuntos Exteriores, Miguel Ángel Moratinos. Nadie entiende eso mejor que los ex prisioneros.

Los que fueron enviados a España no han ocultado su felicidad por haber salido de las cárceles de Cuba. "No hay palabras para describir con justicia lo asombrado y entusiasmado que estaba cuando me vi libre y de nuevo junto a mi mujer y mi hija", dijo Normando Hernández González al Comité para la Protección de Periodistas, en una entrevista telefónica. Sin embargo, Hernández, un periodista independiente, tampoco ha escatimado en palabras sobre la represión cubana.

En una entrevista con Radio República, una emisora de Miami, habló sobre el período "inenarrable" que pasó en la cárcel. "Es el crimen sobre el crimen, el odio visceral del régimen castrista para toda aquella persona que disiente de ellos pacíficamente. Es una experiencia única en la vida que no se la deseo a mi peor enemigo", aseveró.

El régimen trató de arreglar a los ex prisioneros vistiéndolos con pantalones cuidadosamente planchados, camisas blancas y corbatas. Pero llevaron historias de terror. El miércoles llegó a Miami Ariel Sigler, un líder sindical que ingresó en prisión hace siete años siendo un hombre sano y que ahora está confinado a una silla de ruedas.

Estos recordatorios gráficos de la retorcida mente de Castro han sido negativos para la agenda más amplia de Moratinos, que consiste en utilizar la puesta en libertad de los prisioneros para convencer a la Unión Europea para que abandone su "posición común" hacia Cuba. Adoptada en 1996, dice que la UE busca "en sus relaciones con Cuba promover el proceso de transición a una democracia pluralista y el respecto de los derechos humanos y libertades fundamentales, al igual que una recuperación y mejoramiento sostenible de los estándares de vida de los cubanos". El deseo de Moratinos de ayudar a Fidel a acabar con la posición común es una fuente de exasperación entre muchos disidentes cubanos.

Los ex prisioneros también resienten su exilio después de, como dice Hernández, "un secuestro de siete años". Así le explicó a Radio República: "Lo lógico sería 'Sí, me vas a dar la libertad. Dámela para mi casa. Dámela para no separarme más de mi hermana, de las personas de mi familia, mi pueblo, de mis vecinos'". Pero en su lugar, cuenta que fue "prácticamente obligado" a ir a España a cambio de poder salir de la cárcel y conseguir atención médica para su hija y para él mismo.

Las horrorosas condiciones de las cárceles de Cuba no son un secreto. En sus escalofriantes memorias Contra toda esperanza (1986, 2001) el ex prisionero Armando Valladares describe la brutalidad que sufrió de primera mano como prisionero de conciencia durante 22 años. Un flujo consistente de exiliados ha hecho eco desde entonces de sus acusaciones. Pero otro matiz de la crueldad es más difícil de comprender: durante medio siglo, el régimen ha dejado salir a los prisioneros políticos sólo si acceden a firmar un papel en el que reconocen que han sido "rehabilitados", o cuando el régimen está bajo presión, si acceden a dejar la isla. Deshacerse de prisioneros con mucha fuerza de voluntad, a la vez que reciben una palmada en la espalda por su "liberación", ha sido la treta de Castro.

Ahora algunos prisioneros se están negando a jugar el juego. Diez de los 52, entre ellos Óscar Elías Biscet, famoso por su pacifismo, no aceptarán el exilio como una condición de la liberación. Estas almas valientes siguen encerradas.

Desde luego, si son liberadas y autorizadas a quedarse en casa, es muy probable que vuelvan a cometer esos mismos 'crímenes' que los llevaron a la cárcel la primera vez. Un peligro especialmente trascendental para los disidentes es el artículo 72 del Orwelliano código penal de Cuba, que dice: "Se considera estado peligroso la especial proclividad en que se halla una persona para cometer delitos, demostrada por la conducta que observa en contradicción manifiesta con las normas de la moral socialista".

Los disidentes cubanos aseguran que hay cientos, tal vez miles, de prisioneros encerrados por esta clase de delitos. Nadie lo sabe a ciencia cierta. Pero sacar del país a unos cuantos no califica como un paso hacia un gobierno civilizado. La memoria de Zapata exige mucho más.

Escribir a O'Grady@wsj.com

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Tomado de http://online.wsj.com/

Zapata Lives


Castro forces dissidents to accept exile as the price of release from his dungeons.


By MARY ANASTASIA O'GRADY


The announcement last month that Cuba would exile 52 political prisoners currently in jail was supposed to help repair the regime's international image in the wake of the death of Orlando Zapata.

It's not working. The 21 who have already arrived in Spain are speaking out about the hell hole run by Castro that is Cuba. And at least 10 are refusing to leave the country. Zapata lives.

In December 2009, Zapata, who had been rotting in a rat-infested prison cell and repeatedly tortured for almost seven years, launched a hunger strike on behalf of Cuba's prisoners of conscience. He was protesting the unjust incarceration of nonviolent dissidents and the cruelty inside the dungeons. The regime desperately tried to break him, even refusing him water for a time. This led to kidney failure and his death on Feb. 23

Cuban political prisoner Óscar Elías Biscet

Zapata's passing sparked international outrage, and on July 7 the regime yielded to the pressure. It agreed to release the independent journalists, writers and democracy advocates who had been jailed during the 2003 crackdown on dissent, known as the Black Spring.

Yet only the naïve could read Castro's forced acquiescence as a break with tyranny. It is instead a cynical ploy to clean the face of a dictatorship. It is also an effort to reclaim respectability for the world's pro-Castro politicians, including Spanish Foreign Minister Miguel Ángel Moratinos. No one understands this better than the former prisoners.

Those sent to Spain have not hidden their joy about getting out of Cuban jails. "There are no words to fairly describe how amazed and excited I was when I saw myself free and next to my wife and daughter again," Normando Hernández González told the Committee to Protect Journalists in a telephone interview. But Mr. Hernández, an independent journalist, hasn't minced words about Cuban repression either.

In a telephone interview with Miami's Radio Republica, he talked about his "indescribable" time in jail. "It's crime upon crime, the deep hatred of the Castro regime toward everyone who peacefully dissents. It is a unique life experience that I do not wish upon my worst enemy."

The regime tried to spruce up the former prisoners by dressing them in neatly pressed trousers, white shirts and ties. But they brought tales of horror to Spain. Ariel Sigler, a labor organizer who went into prison seven years ago a healthy man but is now confined to a wheel chair, arrived in Miami on Wednesday.

These graphic reminders of Castro's twisted mind have been bad for Mr. Moratinos's wider agenda, which is to use the release of the prisoners to convince the European Union to abandon its "common position" on Cuba. Adopted in 1996, it says that the EU seeks "in its relations with Cuba" to "encourage a process of transition to pluralist democracy and respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms, as well as a sustainable recovery and improvement in the living standards of the Cuban people." Mr. Moratinos's desire to help Fidel end the common position is a source of anger among Cuban dissidents.

The former prisoners also resent their exile, after, as Mr. Hernández puts it, "being kidnapped for seven years." He explained to Radio Republica: "The more logical outcome would be, 'Yes, you are freeing me. Free me to my home. Free me so I won't be apart from my sister, from my family, from my people, from my neighbors.'" Instead he says he was "practically forced" to go to Spain in exchange for getting out of jail, and to get health care for his daughter and himself.

Cuba's horrendous prison conditions are no secret. In his chilling memoir "Against All Hope" (1986, 2001), Armando Valladares cataloged the brutality he experienced first hand as a prisoner of conscience for 22 years. A steady stream of exiles have echoed his claims. But another bit of cruelty is less well understood: For a half century the regime has let political prisoners out of jail only if they sign a paper saying they have been "rehabilitated" or, when the regime is under pressure, if they agree to leave the island. Getting rid of the strong-willed, while being patted on the back for their "release," has been Castro's win-win.

Now some prisoners are refusing to deal. Ten of the 52, including Óscar Elías Biscet, famous for his pacifism, say they will not accept exile as a condition of release. These brave souls remain locked up.

Of course, if they are released and allowed to stay home, the same "crimes" that landed them in prison are likely to do so again. A particular hazard for dissidents is Article 72 of the Orwellian Cuban criminal code, which says that "any person shall be deemed dangerous" if he has "shown a proclivity to commit crimes demonstrated by conduct that is in manifest contradiction with the norms of socialist morality."

Cuban dissidents claim there are hundreds and perhaps thousands of prisoners locked up for "dangerousness," "contempt" and other crimes of dissent. No one knows for sure. But shipping a few dozen out of the country doesn't qualify as a step toward civilized government. The memory of Zapata demands much more.

Write to O'Grady@wsj.com
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OPINIÓN DE NUESTRO COLABORADOR PAUL ECHANIZ DADA EN UN E MAIL

Dear Ms. O'Grady,
In the name of those Cuban prisioners unjustly incarcerated and silenced, I thank you for your advocacy for their predicament and appreciate the concern of the WSJ for their plight. (This is completely ignored by the NYT).
Your insight is unique for a non-Cuban journalist.
Please continue to write about the Cuban situation with your objective, and exceptional, point of view.
This is greatly appreciated by those who suffer for the truth to be told.
Sincerely,
Paul Echaniz
New York, N.Y.
***********************

Tomado de http://online.wsj.com/

Viva Zapata


A Cuban dissident is murdered while Latin leaders schmooze with Castro.

By MARY ANASTASIA O'GRADY


Mexican President Felipe Calderón wore a broad smile as he warmly greeted Cuba's Raúl Castro at the Rio Group summit on the posh Mexican Riviera last week. The two men, dressed in neatly pressed guayabera shirts, shook hands as Mr. Calderón, with no small measure of delight, gestured to his audience to welcome Mexico's very special guest.

A mere 300 miles away, in a military prison hospital in Havana, political prisoner Orlando Zapata lay in a coma. For 84 days the 42-year-old stone mason of humble origins had been on a hunger strike to protest the Castro regime's brutality toward prisoners of conscience. His death was imminent.

Zapata's grim condition was no secret. During his strike, for 18 days, he had been denied water and placed in front of an air conditioner. His kidneys had failed and he had pneumonia. For months human-rights groups had been pleading for international attention to his case.

But over at the Playa del Carmen resort on the Yucatán, Mr. Calderón wasn't about to let Zapata spoil his fiesta, or his chance to improve his image among the region's undemocratic governments. The summit went on as planned with no mention of Havana's human-rights hell. On Tuesday Zapata passed away.

Zapata's death while Latin American leaders broke bread with Castro is a coincidence that captures the cowardice and expediency toward Cuban oppression that has defined the region for a half century. Now the Latin gang, with Cuba as a prominent member, has decided to form a new regional body to "replace" the Organization of American States. To make their intentions clear, they banned Honduras's democratically elected President Porfirio Lobo from last week's meeting.

The Mexican foreign ministry did not respond to several requests last week for a statement from Mr. Calderón on Zapata's death. Its silence suggests that the only thing the Mexican president regrets is the unfortunate timing of the dissident's demise.

Yet Zapata hasn't gone quietly. His passing has once more elevated the truth about the lives of 11 million Cubans enslaved for the last 50 years under a totalitarian regime. And it has embarrassed the likes of Mr. Calderón. Newspapers across the globe, from Buenos Aires to Madrid, are denouncing the mind-boggling hypocrisy of those who feign concern for human rights while embracing Castro.

Like most Cuban dissidents, Zapata did not so much choose his role as martyr as it chose him. Born in the province of Holguin in the eastern part of the country, he moved through the Cuban education system as any ordinary citizen.

But the requisite Marxist indoctrination didn't take. Like so many Cuban patriots before him, once his conscience had been awakened no measure of cruelty could stop him from speaking out.

Zapata became part of a wave of peaceful resistance that began to organize and grow bolder in the late 1990s and early 2000s. He was detained three times in 2002. According to Miami's Cuban Democratic Directorate, which tracks dissident activity, he was arrested for a fourth time on Dec. 6, 2002, "along with [the prominent pacifist and medical doctor] Oscar Elías Biscet."

Dr. Biscet, a devout Catholic and disciple of Martin Luther King Jr.'s adherence to nonviolence, began opposing the regime when he learned of its policy of suffocating babies who survived abortions. Today he is considered one of the island's most important human-rights defenders. His continuing imprisonment and torture are well documented. It is not known whether Mr. Calderón, who also describes himself as a Catholic, discussed Mr. Biscet's plight with his guest Raúl.

Zapata was arrested again in March 2003 along with 74 others in what the resistance calls the "black spring." This time he was held and in May 2004 he was sentenced to 25 years. But his commitment to his brethren never wavered. Indeed, it deepened.

In July 2005, at the Taco Taco prison, he took part in a nonviolent protest marking the 1994 massacre of 41 Cubans who had tried to flee the island on a tugboat and were drowned by state security. That got him another 15 years in the clink.

Zapata was judged guilty of "disobedience to authority" and was repeatedly tortured. But he died a free man, unbroken and unwilling to give up his soul to the regime, which is more than can be said for Mr. Calderón. Word is that Mr. Calderón noticed the offshore drilling contracts Castro has given to Brazil's Petrobras and is cuddling up to the dictator in hopes that Mexico's Pemex will be next.

As to Cuban freedom, the yearning lives on, and Zapata's death is already serving as a source of renewed inspiration to the movement. The regime knows this, which is why state security put his hometown on lockdown the day of his funeral. Even as Cubans mourn their loss, it is certain that, treasuring his personal triumph over evil and his gift of bravery to the nation, they will not let his death be in vain.

Write to O'Grady@wsj.com