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Raúl Castro: un homme seul dans la foule

Les cris, les banderoles, les slogans récités par des milliers de voix, réveillent en lui des sensations endormies, éteintes. Il regarde la marée humaine qui passe devant la tribune et des pulsations irrégulières battent dans sa poitrine. Le visage rouge, les pupilles dilatées, le poil hérissé, la mâchoire sous tension. Ce sont les premiers symptômes de l’excitation que provoquent les foules sur les leaders. Un rituel qui demande de lever la main à certains moments, pour écarter la solitude qu’apporte le pouvoir

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Les cris, les banderoles, les slogans récités par des milliers de voix, réveillent en lui des sensations endormies, éteintes. Il regarde la marée humaine qui passe devant la tribune et des pulsations irrégulières battent dans sa poitrine. Le visage rouge, les pupilles dilatées, le poil hérissé, la mâchoire sous tension. Ce sont les premiers symptômes de l’excitation que provoquent les foules sur les leaders.

Un rituel qui demande de lever la main à certains moments, pour écarter la solitude qu’apporte le pouvoir. Les autocrates s’inventent des marches, d’immenses processions, des défilés fastueux (“les plus grands du monde”) dans lesquels ils jouissent de leur propre autorité. Ils savent qu’eux, et seulement eux, peuvent obliger des millions de personnes à quitter leurs lits (aux premières lueurs du jour), les faire monter dans des bus, relever le nom de chaque personne présente et les faire défiler sur une grande place. Pour faire savoir clairement qui le leur demande, ils font passer le message à travers la foule qui scande leurs noms, les vénère et les remercie.

Une “masse” qu’ils n’oseraient jamais rabaisser, qu’ils ne fréquentent pas, qu’ils craignent et qu’ils (au fond) n’aiment pas.

Sur la place de la Révolution, une personne âgée avec des lunettes de soleil préside la cérémonie du premier mai. Plusieurs jours avant, il avait fait inspecter chaque toit à proximité du lieu, il a placé des gardes aux points les plus hauts de la ville et évalué les possibilités de se faire tirer dessus pendant qu’il est à la tribune. Son propre petit-fils se tient à ses côtés pour le protéger et une flottille de voitures l’attendent “au cas où il se passe quelque chose” et qu’il doive s’échapper. Il n’a pas confiance en cette même foule qu’il a pourtant fait venir.

L’autocrate a peur de son propre peuple. Peur et méfiance. Le sentiment est mutuel. Il sait que les centaines de milliers de petites têtes qu’il voit depuis les hauteurs sont là… parce qu’ils le craignent, et non parce qu’ils l’aiment.

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Joyeux 7e anniversaire!

À l’âge de sept ans, j’avais un sourire incomplet. Je perdais mes dents de lait et je lisais toutes les affiches que je voyais dans la rue. C’était un temps d’apprentissage et de genoux égratignés à force de tomber en jouant. Aujourd’hui, je souffle sur ce même nombre de bougies d’anniversaire, sur un gâteau imaginaire. Cette fois ce n’est pas pour moi, mais c’est pour la créature virtuelle née le 9 avril 2007 et qui est aussi passée par l’étape dentitions, fièvres, rires et chutes.

Le blog Génération Y fête son anniversaire, avec presque un millier de posts publiés, près d’un million et demi de commentaires, plusieurs amis perdus et d’autres gagnés.

Durant tout ce temps, je n’ai pas souffert de l’horreur de la page blanche. Au contraire, je sens que ni le temps ni le difficile accès à Internet ne m’ont empêchée de raconter toute cette réalité cubaine qui se montre à mes yeux. Ce blog a désormais sa propre vie. Il respire dans chacun de ses lecteurs et a une existence parallèle où je ne peux le saisir, le cacher, le protéger.

L’épreuve de la peur du début est passée, de la diabolisation officielle, de la méfiance de tant de gens, des bugs techniques et même de l’instinct de survie qui m’a dit plus d’une fois qu’il fallait tout arrêter. Il est ainsi, avec ses blessures et l’expérience de ses sept années.

Une nouvelle étape commence bientôt. Génération Y déménage dans sa nouvelle demeure, à l’intérieur d’un journal en ligne, collectif et moderne. Au prochain anniversaire, il y aura d’autres visages sur la photo. Soufflons d’ores et déjà des bougies pour eux !

Traduit par Aïda

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Raúl Castro: un homme seul dans la foule

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L’organisation internationale contre la torture lance une “intervention d’urgence” pour José Daniel Ferrer

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José Daniel Ferrer

MIAMI, États-Unis.- L’Observatoire pour la protection des défenseurs des droits humains (OPDDH), a lancé ce vendredi une campagne d'”Interventions urgentes” en faveur du prisonnier politique et de conscience cubain José Daniel Ferrer García, leader de l’Union patriotique de Cuba (UNPACU), selon une note de Radio Televisión Martí.

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Who Is Filling Cuba’s University Classrooms?

New students at the University of Havana (14ymedio) Born during the Special Period, they have grown up trapped in the dual currency system, and when they get their degrees Raul Castro will no longer be in power. They are the more than 100,000 young people just starting college throughout the country. Their brief biographies include educational experiments, battles of ideas, and the emergence of new technologies They know more about X-Men than about Elpidio Valdés, and only remember Fidel Castro from old photos and archived documentaries. They are the Wi-Fi kids with their pirate networks, raised with the “packets” of copied shows and illegal satellite dishes

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New students at the University of Havana (14ymedio)

Born during the Special Period, they have grown up trapped in the dual currency system, and when they get their degrees Raul Castro will no longer be in power. They are the more than 100,000 young people just starting college throughout the country. Their brief biographies include educational experiments, battles of ideas, and the emergence of new technologies They know more about X-Men than about Elpidio Valdés, and only remember Fidel Castro from old photos and archived documentaries.

They are the Wi-Fi kids with their pirate networks, raised with the “packets” of copied shows and illegal satellite dishes. Some nights they would connect through routers and play strategy video games that made them feel powerful and free. Whoever wants to know them should know that they’ve had “emerging teachers” since elementary school and were taught grammar, math and ideology via television screens. However, they ended up being the least ideological of the Cubans who today inhabit this Island, the most cosmopolitan and with the greatest vision of the future.

On arriving at junior high school they played at throwing around around the obligatory snack of bread while their parents furtively passed their lunches through the school gate. They have a special physical ability, an adaptation that has allowed them to survive the environment; they don’t hear what doesn’t interest them, they close their ears to the harangues of morning assemblies and politicians. They seem lazier than other generations and in reality they are, but in their case this apathy acts like an evolutionary advantage. They’re better than us and will live in a country that has nothing to do with what we were promised.

A few months ago, these same young people, starred in the best known case of school fraud uncovered publicly. Some of those hoping to earn a place in higher education bought the answers to an admissions test. They were used to paying for approval, because they had to turn to private tutors to teach them what they should have learned in the classroom. Many of those who recently enrolled in the university had private teachers starting in elementary school. They are the children of a new emerging class that has used its resources so that their children can reach a desk at the right hand — or the left — of the alma mater.

These young people dressed in uniforms in their earlier grades, but they struggled to differentiate themselves through the length of a shirt, a fringe of bleached hair, or through pants sagging below their hips. They are the children of those who barely had a change of underwear in the nineties, so their parents tried to make sure they didn’t “go through the same thing,” and turned to the black market for their clothes and shoes. They mock the false austerity and, not wanting to look like militants, they love bright shiny colors and name brand outfits.

Yesterday, with the start of the school year, they received a lecture about the attempts of “imperialism to undermine the revolution through its youth.” It was like a faint drizzle running over an impervious surface. The government is right to be worried; these young people who have entered the university will never become good soldiers or fanatics. The clay from which they are made cannot be molded.

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Who Is Filling Cuba’s University Classrooms?

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A Caricature of a Cuban Woman

Woman drinking (14ymedio) 14yMEDIO, Yoani Sanchez, Havana, 22 August 2014 — A woman on national television said that her husband “helps” her with some household chores. To many, the phrase may sound like the highest aspiration of every woman. Another lady asserts that her husband behaves like a “Federated man,” an allusion to the Federation of Cuban Women (FMC), which today is celebrating its 54th anniversary. As for me, on this side of the screen, I feel sorry for them in the face of such meekness

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Woman drinking (14ymedio)

Woman drinking (14ymedio)

14yMEDIO, Yoani Sanchez, Havana, 22 August 2014 — A woman on national television said that her husband “helps” her with some household chores. To many, the phrase may sound like the highest aspiration of every woman. Another lady asserts that her husband behaves like a “Federated man,” an allusion to the Federation of Cuban Women (FMC), which today is celebrating its 54th anniversary. As for me, on this side of the screen, I feel sorry for them in the face of such meekness. Instead of the urgent demands they should mention, all I hear is this appreciation directed to a power as manly as it is deaf.

It’s not about “helping” to wash a plate or watch the kids, nor tiny illusory gender quotas that hide so much discrimination like a slap. The problem is that economic and political power remains mainly in masculine hands. What percentage of car owners are women? How many acres of land are owned or leased by women. How many Cuban ambassadors on missions abroad wear skirts? Can anyone recite the number of men who request paternity leave to take care of their newborns? How many young men are stopped by the police each day to warn them they can’t walk with a tourist? Who mostly attends the parent meetings at the schools?

Please, don’t try to “put us to sleep” with figures in the style of, “65 percent of our cadres and 50 percent of our grassroots leaders are women.” The only thing this statistic means is that more responsibility falls on our shoulders, which means neither a high decision-making level nor greater rights. At least such a triumphalist phrase clarifies that there are “grassroots leaders,” because we know that decisions at the highest level are made by men who grew up under the precepts that we women are beautiful ornaments to have at hand… always and as long as we keep our mouths shut.

I feel sorry for the docile and timid feminist movement that exists in my country. Ashamed for those ladies with their ridiculous necklaces and abundant makeup who appear in the official media to tell us that “the Cuban woman has been the greatest ally of the Revolution.” Words spoken at the same moment when a company director is sexually harassing his secretary, when a beaten woman can’t get a restraining order against her abusive husband, when a policeman tells the victim of a sexual assault, “Well, with that skirt you’re wearing…” and the government recruits shock troops for an act of repudiation against the Ladies in White.

Women are the sector of the population that has the most reason to shout their displeasure. Because half a century after the founding of the caricature of an organization that is the Federation of Cuban Women, we are neither more free, nor more powerful, nor even more independent.

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A Caricature of a Cuban Woman

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