Cuban physicist and longtime activist, Celia Hart Santamaría, died in a car accident in Havana on 7 September.
I
wish to devote this article to an amazing Cuban woman, a revolutionary in all
possible ways, whom I had the privilege of knowing.
I
received an email from a South American friend, notifying me of the death of
Celia Hart Santamaría, who was killed in a car accident in Cuba on 8
September. The pain of her loss is both mine and that of hundreds of thousands—and
perhaps millions—of people who knew her personally, read her articles and her
books, listened to her speeches, and for whom she served as a revolutionary
light in the Cuban and South American skies.
Two
years ago, I was invited to participate in an international educational
conference held in Cuba in memory of Paulo Freire, who established the stream
of critical education in the world. Prior to my trip, I contacted several South
American friends for suggestions. Although I noted that I was interested in
meeting people connected to the fields of education and community activism,
they told me time after time that it was “mandatory” for me to meet Celia Hart Santamaría.
Celia
was the daughter of two of the most important leaders of the Cuban revolution
and the right hand of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara. Her mother, Aida Santamaría, was the sole woman at the level of “commander” in the guerilla forces.
Following the revolution, Aida filled numerous governmental positions, her last
one being the president of Casa de las Americas, an institute for
literature and non-fiction writing, which is considered even today as the most
important in South America, and which acted for decades to publish the writings
and art of creators from the third world. Aida committed suicide in the 1970’s;
some say this was on the backdrop of her loss of faith in Fidel and the Cuban Communist
Party, with its oppression of Cuban writers and authors.
Celia’s
father, Armando Hart, was one of the most prominent leaders of the urban
revolutionary movement in Cuba,
and the first Minister of Education following the revolution. He was
responsible for organizing campaigns to end illiteracy, to promote a public
education system for all children on the island and to establish an
infrastructure for all the academic institutions that exist today.
In
this sense, Celia belonged to the “aristocracy” of the revolution. However,
nothing about her suggested aristocratic behavior. After several years of
activities within the young communists group, Celia wanted to learn physics and
was sent to East Germany,
where she completed a doctorate in this field. There, for the first time, Celia
was exposed to the full force of the oppression employed by the Stalinist
bureaucracy. She did not understand how what was occurring in East Germany at
this time under the dictator Honecker, was in any way connected to what she
believed and experienced in Cuba, as a child educated on the values and
writings of Che Guevara and Jose Marti (a national leader from the 19th
century, who fought for freedom from Spanish colonialism and is viewed in Cuban
consciousness as the father of the nation). Disappointed by her experience in
East Germany, Celia returned to Cuba with a desire to abandon all political
party activity.
In
our second meeting, Celia told me that upon her return to Havana,
she had long discussions with her father about the terrible oppression in East Germany. Her
father said he had several books that could help her to understand the
processes occurring in Eastern Europe, and he pulled out three volumes about
the life of Leon Trotsky, written by Isaac Deutscher, in which the life and
works of the number two person in the Bolshevik party, and the commander of the
Red Army, were detailed. She told me that the thought transformation she
experienced, with the inspiration of Trotsky, helped her remain within the
“walls of revolution,” as she expressed it.
Since
this discovery and up to her death, she wrote and acted on the idea that the
Cuban revolution must change direction, that the revolution must be deepened,
the bureaucracy increasing within the Cuban Communist Party must be destroyed
and that civil and political space of civil society must be democratized from
the Left, i.e. “from within and in the revolution,” as she stated.
In
her writings, Celia emphasized four primary topics. One is the search for what
is shared in the writings and values of Che Guevara, Trotsky and Marti. Celia’s
capacity to transform Trotsky into a familiar and accessible figure, connected
to the contemporary political reality, is a tremendous achievement. For this,
past Stalinists, current pro-capitalists and the mafia in Miami will not forgive Celia, a fact which
made her happy.
The
second area is the need for a “continuous revolution,” after the revolution, the
need to search for ways to change all human behaviors in the days of capitalism,
and thus build a “new person,” a central expression in the writings of Che
Guevara. She told me that as a daughter of Cuba and a revolutionary, she does
not understand the essence of commercials as a representative expression of
contemporary capitalism. “I don’t understand why they need to tell me which
toothpaste I must use. What is this nonsense? I do not understand what the
commercial is for. But I am aware of its power. Even I want Nike shoes.”
The
third emphasis, through which Celia also connected amongst the three
revolutionary figures, was her anti-imperialism and anti-colonialism. As a
daughter of Cuba, she was horrified by all forms of oppression, but
particularly the almost 60 year oppression employed by the United States employs
against the small island, which at times reached the level of crimes against
humanity—the poisoning of animals and agricultural lands, an embargo that
resulted in malnutrition and diseases of the nervous system amongst children,
and more. This is the reason that she unconditionally supported the social
changes being led by Hugo Chavez in Venezuela,
and Evo Morales in Bolivia.
With Chavez, she made political and social connections, and was invited by him
not long ago to participate in a ceremony in memory of Trotsky.
The
fourth topic was her strident objection to the relative openness of the Cuban
government in recent years concerning topics crucial to the country’s social
structure. She concerned herself with the threat to the achievements of the revolution,
as represented by the rightwing/conservative stream within the Cuban Communist Party.
This stream, according to Celia “the only one organized unofficially within the
party,” stands behind economic reforms that resulted in the establishment of
hundreds of “mixed” companies of the state together with capital holders
(including Israelis). She strongly objected to the industry of western tourism,
because of the decay it brings. On this topic Celia told me, “I know that
tourism brings cash, which is essential to the state. I do not live in a
vacuum. However, we must encourage revolutionary tourism, medical tourism, and
not tourism of the first world to the third world. This is humiliating.” When I
asked her what revolutionary tourism is, she pointed at me and said “here, you
are an example.” Celia emphasized numerous times that “Cuba underwent a deep
social revolution, without a doubt, but it is not socialist. We are in a
transitional stage. And in this transitional stage, there is no guarantee that
the revolution will not regress. Herein lies the importance of targeted
criticism of the party.”
In
our first meeting, Celia forced me to pass an anti-colonial “test.” We met in
the lobby of the hotel in which I was staying in Havana. After a firm
handshake, she said to me: “you will have to prove to me why, despite the warm
recommendations of our mutual friends, I should even speak with an Israeli. You
know that I despise the behavior of Israel toward the Palestinian people, I
think it is a crime against humanity. I also want to tell you that I am the
chairperson of the Committee for Solidarity with the Palestinian People and
that I organize demonstrations everywhere I identify an Israeli presence or an
Israeli-American presence.” She attacked, and attacked for a long time. A woman
with strong rhetorical capacities and great rage against the injustices of the
world. A vibrant woman. She further tested me in the area of Judaism: “I don’t
like your God. He is violent, kills peoples, is a revengeful God, angry and
fierce. I prefer Jesus, who was a revolutionary in his time.” She laughed when
I replied that she must remember that the Christian Jesus was Jewish, and that
the Catholic Church has no history of peace and brotherhood, to say the least.
Celia
left me with a complex impression. On the one hand, I felt that her anger and
revolutionary excitement was a wonderful example for a Cuban daughter of the
revolution, critical toward the political leadership and aware of the process of
retreat of the revolutionary idea when there exists political leadership that
is becoming increasingly bureaucratic. On the other hand, like numerous
Trotskyites, she was overly fond of endless arguments, mostly empty, amongst
themselves and with other revolutionary forces in the South American arena. However,
she possessed something that was common to the vast majority of Cubans with
whom I spoke, a majority of them educators and community activists. She did not
fear self-criticism. In conversations, everything was always on the table. Undoubtedly
this is a boon to the revolutionaries. To see things correctly, not to fear
mistakes, to criticize strongly, and along with this to be convinced and change
opinions.
At
the same time, her “Trotskyism,” if it can thus be called, was essentially
different. It was refreshing and attempted to combine the philosophical streams
that developed in the radical Left. And it is the complexity of her ideas that
charmed her listeners.
When
we spoke about the Middle East, and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, she did
not spare harsh criticism for the “national-bourgeoisie” leaderships, in her
words, of the Palestinians and the Arab world. “From my perspective, there is
an essential difference between unconditional support for the struggle of the
Palestinian people, and support for the national-bourgeoisie leadership, and
also supposedly of the Arab bourgeoisie. I examine things not only through words,
but also in human behavior. When, during the period of the fall of the Berlin
Wall, the American embargo caused hunger in Cuba,
I was invited to the home of the President of the Arab League in Cuba. He
derived great enjoyment from his ability to import quality, Middle Eastern
style food and to invite his friends to a celebration. This disgusted me. How
can he celebrate when my people are hungry!” From Celia’s perspective, in her
writings and speeches, there will never be room to forgive personal behavior
that does not fit the espoused values in which a person claims to believe.
In
this respect she was greatly influenced by the person and writings of Che
Guevara, as are all Cubans. Celia told me how she met him personally when she
was a child and how her mother once said, with tears in her eyes, after she
discovered that Che went to South America to begin a new guerilla force, that
she would never forgive him for not taking her with him.
She
also loved Fidel Castro, as a type of father figure, a feeling that is shared
throughout Cuba.
Tens of people with whom I spoke repeated the formula that expresses the type
of relations between the people and its leader. The vast majority of them had
harsh criticism of the Communist Party, but everyone distinguished between it
and Castro. Castro, although he was until his recent retirement the chairman of
the party, remained a beloved figure. In the Cuban imagination, Fidel
represents that revolution—its achievements and ability to hold on despite the
difficulties and mistakes. Celia told me with tears in her eyes that one of the
most difficult crises in her life was when members of the Communist Party Central
Committee decided to suspend her from it, “to take a break from activism,” she
told me cynically. This occurred two months prior to our meeting. She spent her
entire life in the party, despite her sharp criticism and her admiration of
Trotsky, and she saw it as home. She was told that Fidel said “don’t touch my
Celia,” which prevented her from being thrown out of the party and further
permitted her to continue acting freely in Cuba and South America. However,
despite the humiliation of the suspension, she said to me “as long as Fidel is
alive I will not build an alternative revolutionary party. Only following his
death. I owe him this.”
And
indeed Celia passed away as her party was the revolution. Despite her connections
with Trotskyite parties, she was never willing to join one of them. This is
good, for in this way she could represent a progressive spirit within Cuba. Over the
years Celia became a representative of the leftwing of Cuban civil society, a
counter to the right-conservative wing which became stronger following the fall
of the Berlin Wall. Her voice, in Cuba and outside, will be greatly
missed.
In
our third meeting she said to me “heaven doesn’t interest me, it is boring
there, there are no revolutions. I want to act, here and now. With all of my strength.
This is the role of revolutionaries. This is the true life that is worth
living.”
My
friend Celia, I had the privilege of meeting you and speaking with you. I will
always remember your last words to me as we parted, when I told you that it was
difficult for me to leave Cuba, with its amazing people, its spirit of
solidarity, and the feeling that with every step the spirit of revolution is
strengthened, and you said to me “your job is to return to Israel and fight
there. This is the role of revolutionaries, to be where they are needed, in the
most difficult place, where it is most frustrating…”
May
her memory be blessed.
Marcello Weksler is Director of Educational Program for Marginalized Youth, Tel Aviv; and Board Member
of the AIC. This article was translated from the original Hebrew.
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