Sunday, 27 November 2016

No thanks, I don’t want the West’s narrative on Fidel Castro’s legacy

The first post I wrote and published, to start what would eventually become iamalaw, was on Cuba. Following a trip to the island (long before the relaxation of US sanctions), I discussed whether the Cuban revolution could outlive Fidel Castro. With the ever-burgeoning private sector, and subtle changes that would have still been unthinkable at the time of my visit, some might argue that the answer is no. Indeed, some would opine that Fidel Castro’s death came at a time when capitalism had ever-so-slightly started to permeate Cuba’s once staunchly communist economy.


When I visited Cuba, it was void of American visitors (and thankfully that included the Kardashians) other than those few who were willing to take the risk to travel there via other neighbouring countries. Other than that minority, special dispensation was required for Americans to make the trip there.

The internet was available but much too expensive for the typical Cuban wage and incredibly slow at that. Therefore it was largely the privilege of foreigners. Nevertheless, Cubans were increasingly aware of the world around them. And many younger Cubans’ views on their then leader (Raul Castro was yet to be become president) was in contrast with the adulation the older generation held for Fidel Castro.

Speaking to many younger Cubans at the time, they were aware of the restrictions that life in Cuba had placed upon them. They maintained an indignation for being unable to travel, make money and access the lives that they glimpsed of the tourists they interacted with and those they saw in their rare access to the internet and western media. They were also aware of the propaganda, censorship, human rights violations and imprisonment of political prisoners that occurred under the regime.

With our awareness of the world, we can acknowledge that the Cuban revolution hasn’t been a bastion of human rights. Nor can we belittle this in a lack of empathy for those that have been subject to it. Nonetheless, when we compare this to that of American imperialism and European colonialism, the Cuban revolution seems like human rights utopia.

Unless I’m mistaken, Cuba hasn’t been responsible for a slave trade of an entire race for which the legacy endures centuries later. Nor has it invaded countries on account of their sovereign governments maintaining a different ideology or in seeking to pillage their natural resources. However, I can think of a few countries that have. In the wake of Fidel Castro’s death, commentators and politicians from said countries really need to take a long, hard look at themselves and their countries’ histories for their audacity in showing their opprobrium towards the former Cuban leader.

Cuban American exiles in Miami’s ‘Little Havana’ celebrated the death of Fidel Castro. They and their families understandably have no love lost for Castro given they were driven out of their country and many persecuted. Although to see some championing Donald Trump at the same time beggars belief. Donald Trump? If you want a conversation about human rights, this is the man who said he’d bring back 'a hell of a lot worse than waterboarding'. Similarly, for the right in America, 2016 was their year. First Trump and now this? It was like a Fox News wet dream.
At least history won't record Fidel Castro bragging about his desire to "grab 'em by the pussy"...
To lament human rights in Cuba and celebrate the death of Fidel Castro, while ignoring American imperialism and European colonialism, and in the same breath championing Donald Trump, then you're an idiot. Alas, there are an awful lot of idiots.

Dialogue around Fidel Castro is always bound to include the violations on human rights and that’s understandable. Yet we don’t discuss the legacy of American and European leaders, who have been responsible for much more heinous crimes against humanity, in the same context. Is it because capitalism provides a convenient distraction from their wrongdoing? Or, more likely, because they’re white?

Fidel Castro refused to continue the narrative of American imperialism and he was a comrade to many leaders who sought to improve the lives of their people in ushering an era of equality. He was a champion of African liberation; effectively seeking to overturn centuries of European colonialism. Castro was a sponsor of Angolan independence and a vociferous opponent of apartheid in South Africa. Cuba supported the ANC’s resistance when America had declined to actively support the resistance movement.

In Jamaica, Prime Minister Michael Manley and Fidel Castro became friends and allies and Cuban doctors and nurses were sent to support the Jamaican health system along with builders and engineers to assist in construction and public works programmes. Jamaica, like the wider region, was subject to European colonialism and latterly American imperialism. Fidel Castro showed there was another way. And he was willing to show solidarity to those who sought to free themselves of the shackles of their colonial and imperialist oppressors.
Michael Manley and Fidel Castro
Along with one of the highest literacy rates in the world and a world class national health service (while America has a health care system based on insurance), Cuba represented an alternative in the Caribbean and beyond. It showed that former colonies didn’t need to run into the arms of America to provide for their people. Castro put education at the forefront of the country and for the West, it’s probably why Cuba was deemed so dangerous. He created a highly intelligent country that, at times perhaps to the revolution’s detriment, has established a society with an insatiable thirst for knowledge and awareness of the wider world.

Further reform in Cuba is likely and the society that the revolution birthed will continue to be eroded as has already begun. Despite the growing momentum for it, the Cuban government has managed to avoid any revolution to effect change. Though with the death of Fidel Castro, and all he represented of the revolution, it’d be difficult to say that his death will not hasten that.

Raul Castro may offer concessions to Cubans to slow down any further economic and social shifts, as he effectively already has with existing economic reforms. But the zeal for change amongst an apathetic youth is too great to hold off indefinitely. Furthermore, with Raul Castro as a man also in the twilight of his life, he too may be running out of time to stall it.

Fidel Castro will continue to be a divisive figure in history and understandably so. Although I shan’t accept the biased and ideologically driven narrative of him from the West. Juxtaposed with their own history, the West really aren’t in a position to criticize Castro and history will judge him much more favourably than they might hope.
SHARE:

Sunday, 13 November 2016

The election of Donald Trump is more abhorrent than Brexit but they share the same ugly principles

In the early hours of the morning after the US presidential election, I woke up and reached for my phone. As I squinted from the glare of the backlight, with some anxiety I instinctively checked the results that were already in and immediately felt a sickening sensation in the pit of my stomach.

It was eerily a feeling of deja vu; exactly the same routine and feeling I had experienced upon seeing the results of the EU referendum.

Donald Trump was not only ahead but it looked like he was going to win. As I hopped between tabs of reliable news outlets and social media, refreshing each page in hope, I accepted that Trump was going to win the election. It was what I thought would happen but badly wanted to be wrong about. Trump was now on 244 electoral college votes while Hillary Clinton was on 215. Trump was en route to victory and it didn’t look like anything would change that.

As Clinton conceded defeat, the atmosphere was akin to when it’d become clear that the UK had voted to leave the EU in a foolish decision that was driven by xenophobia and ignorance. The mood in London (a city that had overwhelmingly voted to remain in the EU) was just as subdued as it was following the referendum.

Where Brexit and the election of Trump differed was Brexit arguably wasn’t as bad a result. Not to mention, despite my disdain for many Brexiters, the Trump campaign (and his election) undoubtedly showed the American electorate and society in a much worse light.

Trump can be called many things. Racist, sexist, Islamophobic, homophobic, xenophobic, misogynistic, narcissistic and bigoted all accurately describe the President Elect. Oh, and don’t forget his aspirations as a sexual predator and sexual abuser. On the latter, I don’t know how else you can describe a man who brags about his desire when meeting a beautiful woman to “grab ‘em by the pussy”.

One conspicuous omission from the above is ‘liar’. I’m sure Trump has told his fair share of lies and I’m sure many of his obnoxious policies will quickly prove to be too outlandish and impractical to implement, which might lead some to call him deceitful. But when it came to his campaign, Trump told Americans exactly what his plans were with his trademark candidness.

I also think Trump had the chutzpah to actually intend to implement his policies before realising or being advised that they’d be impossible. And enough of the electorate nevertheless voted for him to become President. If he finds a way to build a wall to keep Mexicans out, and manages to get Mexico to pay for it, it can’t be claimed that he didn’t tell you so.

Essentially, Trump supporters went further with the extent of the hate that they were knowingly willing to support via their voting of a candidate who actually intended to follow through on all the hateful utterances he spewed throughout his campaign. That says a lot about American society when a candidate running on that platform can win a presidential election.

America has long been disdainfully perceived globally as a nation of supreme ignorance and electing Donald Trump has only reinforced that view. It’s a perception many Americans aren’t aware of but I think many of those who didn’t vote for Trump are now realising this for themselves.

In the UK we’re still in political limbo over our exit of the EU and I’m still not convinced a hard Brexit at least will happen (especially with the recent court ruling that the government does need to consult Parliament before triggering Article 50). But for Americans, there’s little uncertainty around Trump assuming the presidency of the United States.

Returning to the UK, there is much that unites Brexit and the election of Trump in the ugly principles they’re both underpinned by. Political apathy and distrust of politicians is at an all-time high and understandably so. Governments and politicians are seen as the friends of big business, the ‘1%’ and each other while the public accept the narrative without scope for redress. With both the EU referendum and the US presidential election, sections of the respective electorate sought to give the establishment a kicking.

When Brexiters voted to leave the EU, they wanted to send a message. They wanted to tell the establishment and the career politicians that they wanted to see them with a bloody nose. Most Brexiters didn’t know what the EU did and I suspect many still don’t. Conversely, voting to remain in the EU was what the government wanted them to vote for and if the EU was worth their vote, what had it done for them? This was the emotionally driven and flawed logic of many people that voted to leave. They’d had enough and this was their chance to stick it to the politicians in Westminster and Brussels.

Voters in communities that’d had the heart ripped out of their local economies by recessions and a lack of investment saw the government and the EU as the cause of their woes and they understandably directed their anger at politicians. This was no different from US cities with declining industries where the working class had decided enough was enough. No more empty promises from politicians followed by a term of neglect. They were ready to reject the status quo of politicians and unfortunately for Clinton, she represented that.

Trump on the other hand, with his brash demeanour, populist rhetoric and cheap shots that provided a mouthpiece for all the insults the working class wanted to hurl at the politicians they felt had let them down, was the antithesis of the political class. He might have come from money, and was very much part of the establishment, but his sentiments didn’t carry the Washington narrative.

He was everything traditional politicians weren’t. And while that included being hugely unqualified for the job, voting for him meant a change from the status quo and an opportunity to give the political class a drubbing. Just as the Brexiters had had enough and were showing it via the ballot, Trump supporters were doing exactly the same.

Their vitriol was at a level where even if the consequence was an unqualified buffoon leading their country, thus compounding the disdain and derision of America, it was a chance they were willing to take. While I shared some of the reservations many Americans had over Clinton (and would have preferred Bernie Sanders as the Democratic Party candidate) it’s nonetheless a big statement when you can’t beat Donald Trump. This was the extent of the failure that the political class had effected.
"You don't like immigrants? Me too! Let's be friends!"
The same could be said for the Brexiters who were willing to damage the British economy and similarly make the UK a laughing stock on the world stage (although they were were too insular and high on misplaced jingoism to realise that). Anything associated with xenophobic morons like Nigel Farage et al should be an overwhelming loser yet it wasn’t the case. What an L we took in the EU referendum indeed.

While there needs to be some empathy for the aforementioned groups (more so to understand how politicians and society facilitated this mess), the undertones of prejudice and hatred that led to the respective results are harder to understand.

I’ve always maintained that not everyone who voted for Brexit is a racist but every racist voted for Brexit. And the same can be said for Trump supporters. The Leave campaign in the UK was driven by an undeniable xenophobia. The logic was that immigrants were clearly taking our jobs (jobs that many Britons don’t want to do) and they had to go. Although beyond xenophobia, this was about racism.

British born ethnic minorities like me were just as unwelcome even though the UK was our home where we were educated, work and contribute to society. For many Leave supporters, Brexit was their way of telling us to ‘go home’ (even those of us who were born here). They even managed to get some ethnic minorities like Tory MP Preeti Patel to get in on the act. If we do get shipped off to who-knows-where, she’ll presumably be on the last boat to leave but she won’t be so smug then.

It was no different in America. With every group that Trump offended, I was incredulous that he managed to maintain, if not grow, his support. Yet every time he managed to insult a minority group, it was perceived as a willingness to champion the white, working class male. Many had come to feel disenfranchised and resented what their country had become with ‘unnecessary legislation giving minorities equal rights’. Consequently, many repaid Trump in votes.

Add that to the group of voters who held a deep rooted disdain and distrust for politicians, and those who held some prejudice for at least one minority group, and that’s a lot of votes.

Those groups certainly aren’t mutually exclusive and if you represented them in a venn diagram, there’d be a sizeable number in the intersection; something that knowingly or otherwise helped Trump to the White House.

Trump promised to ‘make America great again’ but what he really meant, as supported by much of his rhetoric throughout his campaign, was he wanted to make America white again. And that resonated with many racist voters. The EU referendum and the presidential election showed that race relations in particular hadn’t really improved. Rather the racists didn’t have anyone speaking out for them.

With the likes of Farage, Trump et al championing the sentiments of the downtrodden racist, and doing so in the mainstream, they made it OK to be open about one’s racism. No longer did their views need to be caveated with “some of my best friends are black/Muslim/[insert minority group here]” and like the Death Eaters in Harry Potter following Voldemort’s resurgence, they weren’t going to hide their true identities or their views.

Following the EU referendum, there were reports of racist and religiously motivated attacks by people who felt emboldened by the result. And the same has happened following the election of Trump with hate crimes effectively being committed in the name of the President Elect.

In the days after the presidential election, social media has been rife with posts documenting such attacks. Journalist Shaun King has received countless reports of these and his Facebook page paints a picture of the extent of just how emboldened Trump supporters feel following his election. To return to the Harry Potter analogy, the Trump supporters have their Voldemort and they’re extremely roused as he prepares to enter the Ministry of Magic.

Historians have long referenced the ‘special relationship’ in articulating the connection shared between America and the UK. Culturally and politically, that’s long been the case. Furthermore, the EU referendum and the presidential election have shown they share more than that in an ugly yet and strong undercurrent of prejudice.

On the possibility of the triggering of Article 50 being blocked or a soft Brexit, and in what seems like a veiled threat combined with a blatant attempt at stoking existing divisions in the UK, Nigel Farage said it could result in “political anger the like of which we have never seen in this country”. With the tensions exposed in the UK, he could be right and America could be facing the same scenario. Heated anti-Trump protests have already taken place and I expect there will be more.

Both countries have shown not only how divided they are but how fragile their facades of tolerance are when given the opportunity to deviate from this without reproach. However, more worryingly is how little they’ve seemingly progressed from a history that can be characterised by generations of abject prejudice. On reflection, perhaps we didn’t move as far away from it as we once thought.
SHARE:
© iamalaw

This site uses cookies from Google to deliver its services - Click here for information.

Blogger Template Created by pipdig