US in Cuba
Vol.1, Issue 1 (Summer '13)
/politics
Jenna Johnson
While the streets of major American and European cities are filled with ads featuring thin white models with perfect tans and long hair selling beauty products and expensive technology, the only faces plastered onto the sides of billboards in Cuba are those of revolutionary men. It was rare to walk more than 5 or 10 blocks without coming across a bust of José Martí or the iconic face of Che Guevara painted onto the side of a crumbling building. To me, a Women’s Studies student who falls far outside the beauty paradigm set by Western consumerism, this felt freeing – no ads reminding me of the inadequacy of my body or my income - but as I sit down to write this, attempting to understand the difference between the messages that governments extend to those they rule over through the environments in which we exist, I realized how privileged that “freedom” I felt was. While it felt that the “marketing” or propaganda in Havana is much less constant than that of the United States, it is unquestionable that it exists in a way that is distinctly similar to that of marketing in the United States, serving to uphold the rule of the Cuban government, construct "needs" that uphold that rule, and attempt to justify the "sacrifices" of those looking on.
The American capitalist system requires a constantly expanding market to exist, both in terms of new consumers and new products. In the American market, this means a need for pervasive and constantly expanding advertising in an attempt to construct and maintain the “needs” of consumers. In the U.S., this is often done by reminding us of our own inadequacies (by constructing constantly shifting standards of “normality”) and promoting a product or service that can help us “overcome” them. Ultimately, this leads to constant consumerism, in which we begin to believe that our constructed problems can be fundamentally solved by products or services. Beyond simply desiring high consumer spending for continued global capitalist dominance, the United States government feels that it requires it to function “normally," working to create an economic environment in which both the government and the consumer is dependent on high spending. For example, the US government directly promotes and supports single-family home ownership (or, at the very least, occupancy), high consumer spending, and massive production of often unnecessary products, creating an environment in which constantly growing and shifting "needs" flourish as they are constantly promoted and constructed by the government.
For a number of reasons, this same type of marketing is irrelevant in Cuba. The poverty of the country, the closed markets resulting from an attempt to bolster the socialist revolution, and the blockade against Cuba by the United States results in low purchasing power for most Cubans and a lack of variety of products. Does that mean that the Cuban people are free from the construction of consumer culture by the economy and the government? No. Reading the writing of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara and witnessing the decisions of the Cuban government make that clear. Just as in the US, Cubans are told what to desire and are convinced of “naturalness” of those needs. These “needs” are, however, extremely different from those constructed by the US government and are often purposefully meant to directly counter the “needs” of those in capitalist nations.
This was extremely obvious to me during multiple conversations we had with Henry throughout the trip, who took care to emphasize multiple times that Cubans take the time to enjoy life. This was significant from our perspective for multiple reasons, most notably the poverty in Cuba. In the United States, poverty and happiness are viewed as mutually exclusive, as a materially “comfortable” existence is seen as a precursor to happiness above all else, including things like education. This is not the case in Cuba, and given the proximity to the United States, it easily could be. It is also significant because this major factor – “happiness” – is so often seen as secondary to many in the United States, especially those that are conventionally “successful.” Sacrificing happiness or time to live in order to make more money or advance your career or education is seen as acceptable, normal, and even noble, and while the view of such decisions in Cuba may be the result of a lack of opportunity in many cases, it still revealed a distinctly different cultural “need,” one that can be understood by what aspects of existence governments value and how they choose to promote themselves.
In his 1965 essay “Man and Socialism in Cuba,” Che Guevara makes it clear what the appropriate “needs” of those of the vanguard are.
“It is not a matter of how many kilograms of meat one has to eat, nor of how many times a year one goes to the beach, nor how many pretty things from abroad you might be able to buy with present-day wages. It is a matter of making the individual feel more complete, with much more internal richness and much more responsibility.”
At the time Guevara was writing and continuing today, the Cuban government seems to have had a dual objective: helping Cubans understand why socialism is “good” and why capitalism is “bad," while the United States has had to make the same efforts to promote capitalism, those efforts have unquestionably faded as the belief of capitalism as a “superior” economic system is largely unquestioned in 2013 as the world in general values capitalism over communism/socialism. Words like this, from a man whose face covers the Havana landscape, not only make an attempt to trivialize the needs constructed by capitalism, but simultaneously emphasize the moral and intellectual “superiority” of those “needs” in socialist nations. The writing of Guevara and Castro, along with the decisions that continue to be made by the Cuban government, try to portray material desires as mere distractions from the revolution, while simultaneously attempting to justify the material reality of Cuban existence as a sacrifice for the success of the revolution.
In the midst of a housing crisis during the Special Period in the early 1990’s that obviously continues today, Castro very blatantly stated that this sacrifice was justifiable in order to promote the revolution.
“If in five years we don’t build housing, if that’s the price for saving the revolution, then we’ll spend five years without building them.”
Reading statements like this, the Cuban Revolution seems powerful and unwavering; a government dedicated to its cause – a revolution (supposedly) built on equality and justice. The reality of this, over 20 years after this statement was made, seemed quite different. While this sacrifice in the abstract sounds powerful, the face of Guevara obscured behind the precarious, self-made external wooden structures that keep existing housing standing seems quite different. While Castro, who likely has access to all the space he desires, preaches eloquently, the material reality of Cuban life, especially that of Afro-Cubans, cannot be ignored.
This statement shows an obvious incongruence between material needs and the "needs" that the government attempts to construct for political gain. Unquestionably, while the vast spaces that most Americans occupy are unnecessary, many Cubans occupy housing that is unsafe and crumbling, with multiple people killed under the weight of their own fallen home per year. Despite the government's best attempts, these realities cannot be erased.
While in the United States, or other capitalist nations, a lack of material goods is framed as due to a lack of effort, since American capitalism purports that all have equal opportunity for success, in Cuba is it something drastically different. It is, in theory, seen as a necessary sacrifice on the road to revolution - more explicitly in popular culture it is portrayed as due to the American blockade, which likely explains a great deal, but not the entirety, of the state of the Cuban economy. What purpose, then, do the faces of Martí and Guevara that cover the landscape serve, then?
To me, though I have the privilege of being an outsider looking in, the faces of the “Fathers of the Revolution” that cover Havana serve as a constant reminder of the rhetoric of the revolution and why the city is in such disrepair. Choosing to value certain services over others has resulted in little if any attention being paid to the state of structures in Havana, though the massive construction that was occurring as we were there shows that this is changing. While I don’t think I met a single adult without a college degree, regardless of occupation, I also never met someone who lived in a home that didn’t include multiple generations of family members. While Cubans are not necessarily satisfied with their housing situations, it is accepted. The Revolutionary government continues to exist despite the housing crisis, and Cuba continues to enjoy extremely high rates of literacy and education. The opposite phenomenon is felt in the US, where college educations are rare for adults nation-wide (especially in Alabama) and even those in government housing are given access to a private living space. The sacrifices made in each nation are extremely different, extremely personal, and due to calculated political choices.
The willingness to accept such sacrifice is quelled in the United States with the promise of a “better” future, but in Cuba it requires the belief that the Revolution really does have the promise of improving the nation, despite its many downfalls in the past 50 years. Just as in the United States, the Cuban government attempts to do this by making the Revolution a constant part of Cuban daily life, covering the landscape with reminders about the Revolution, the potential of socialism, and the inhumanity of anything else.
The United States & Cuba: Shared Commitments to Propaganda, Personal Sacrifice, and the construction of "Needs"
Around Havana, reminders of the Revolution felt constant. More concentrated in the Cuban neighborhoods rather that the area around our hotel and the tourist shops, it was clear the purpose of these reminders was not a heartfelt homage, but rather serving as a reminder of the promise of the Revolution and the presence of the government. Most revealing to me was the two places that I saw Che's face plastered the most - the sides of crumbling buildings and the shirts sold in tourist shops. For most tourists visiting Cuba, who may wander between the Malecon, nicer restaurants, souvenir shops, and the Hotel Nacional, it was this Che they would be exposed to - Che for sale rather than Che for Revolution. To me, this made it exceedingly obvious the way that the government is using this image - to keep Cubans in line and to keep foreigners intrigued in "exotic" Cuban culture.