Our Hitler
By Eduardo Santiago
In our house, November 25 is called Markmas because it is exactly a month previous to Christmas, and it is my husband Mark’s birthday. He loves all holidays and adding another one is a tradition the rest of the family and all of our friends support.
What should we call November 25th now that the day has been tainted by the death of the tyrannical Cuban dictator Fidel Castro? His passing is politically irrelevant, yet “mourned” by many in the streets of Havana, whether they want to or not. Nine days of mourning have been ordered, which means anyone caught listening to a radio or watching television or just humming to themselves—even in the privacy of their own homes—will see consequences. So if you were grappling with the terms “tyrannical” and “dictator” this should resolve that conflict.
Simultaneously, in Little Havana, the tiny Cuban heart of Miami, there is joyous celebration. Enormous Cuban flags are paraded down 8th Street alongside the U.S. flag, a commemoration of the country that provided more than a million of us with food, shelter and opportunity.
Although Cubans are known around the world for their music, there wasn’t a musical instrument in sight. Instead, it was the traditional beating of pots and pans, and I was delighted that tradition includes banging on electric rice makers. We are, after all, Americans now.
During television coverage of Little Havana on November 26, an English- speaking Cuban man put down the celebratory pots and pans just long enough to deliver a provocative sound bite: “He was our Hitler.”
The comparison, which gets bandied about quite frequently, has never felt appropriate to me. There is no comparison between the systematic extermination of more than eight million people, with the inconveniences caused by a charismatic and arrogant Latin American dictator. Fidel Castro was not a brilliant man, but he had some remarkable talents, such as talking out of both sides of his mouth, earning the blind trust of millions at mandatory rallies, and making political deals that, above all, lined his own pockets.
If there is to be a comparison between the Cubans and the Jews, it might be their sentient cry of, “Never forget.”
But is not forgetting enough? How has not forgetting served us? As a sinister new administration steps into the White House, the muffled cry in too many hearts appears to be, “Could it happen again?”
For those of you grappling with the word sinister, you need look no further than alt-right leader and Trump’s incoming chief strategist, Steve Bannon. As for the rest, all but two are white, all but two are men, and just one—Elaine Chao, AKA Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell’s wife—has run a federal agency before. For George W. Bush, and we all recall how well that went.
So, could it happen again, here? The answer will be clear come next Markmas.
Eduardo Santiago was born in Manzanillo, Cuba and is the author of the novels Tomorrow They Will Kiss and Midnight Rumba. Visit his website.
Reading recommendation: Midnight Rumba by Eduardo Santiago.