Tropical Versailles in the National Capitol: A Feast on the Ruins of Cuba

Who would have thought? The revolution "of the humble and for the humble" removed democracy from the Capitol and filled it with millionaires smoking tobacco and drinking whisky


The night of Wednesday, February 26, more than 50 percent of Cuba was experiencing blackouts. The electrical crisis, which has been affecting the country for months, has worsened in recent days, with a total of eight thermal units out of service due to breakdowns or scheduled maintenance.

The annoying power outages were also compounded by the Herculean task of finding fuel for cooking, in a country where gas is scarce and a bag of charcoal costs over 1,500 pesos.

That night, while the Cubans sat at the table without light, without food, and without hopes, in Havana, a privileged group of millionaires and members of the communist elite held a banquet at the National Capitol.

Coming from a regime that has squandered democracy and individual freedoms, it is not surprising that the palace, which should embody the sovereignty of the people, was chosen to host, with all the grandeur of Versailles, the so-called Midnight Night of the Habanos Festival, described by its own organizers as an evening for a “select group” of individuals.

The National Capitol, once the seat of the Congress of the Republic, took on a cabaret atmosphere for the occasion, perhaps winking at its new role as the headquarters of the National Assembly of the regime. Through the Hall of Lost Steps, a solemn space where the legislators of a democratic Cuba should walk, all kinds of characters paraded, some incognito and others sadly infamous for their privileges, which were by no means hidden.

The Communist Party, which offers so many lessons on "cultural colonization" or the superficiality of that imperfect republic of the 1950s, adorned the building with all the grandeur of the first half of the 20th century. Carpets, a marching band, quality tobacco, and glamorous models: everything was shine and glamour, almost a sin for that model of an austere and less consumerist society they promote as the ideal for the rest of the Cubans.

The same people who sentenced the Cuban Aniette González García to three years in prison for taking a photo with the national flag, under the alleged charge of "outraging national symbols," organized a grand party right over the grave of the Unknown Mambí, in the rotunda of the Capitol. The same ones who have tried to monopolize patriotic sentiment and claim the right to label the rest as "anti-Cuban" smoked and drank rum without any shame in front of the statue of the Republic.

Who would have thought? The revolution "of the humble and for the humble" removed democracy from the Capitol to fill it with millionaires smoking cigars and drinking whiskey. Just a hundred meters away, the dilapidated buildings turned into unsanitary lots demonstrate a Havana reduced to rubble after decades of neglect and indifference.

The communist elite, which is increasingly less concerned about hiding their privileges, made an appearance at the event without any reservations. Among the attendees, Manuel Anido Cuesta, stepson of the ruler Díaz-Canel, traveled from Spain for the occasion. It is worth questioning what his purpose was there that night. Is the son of Lis Cuesta a specialist or a fan of cigars? Did he attend as an advisor to the designated dictator or simply because he is part of the “presidential family”? In any case, the dictator's stepson was seen alongside Lourdes Dávalos, a lawyer for the Cuban regime, who also traveled from Europe to smoke a cigar at the National Capitol.

In the Cuban landscape, it is not new for the official discourse to be very far from the facts. The communists, under Fidel Castro's leadership, expelled the "rich" to live in their expropriated mansions in the best neighborhoods of Havana. Perhaps now, at the twilight of communism, they feel less shame in displaying themselves.

The night of February 26 will go down in history as the night of ignominy for Cuba. The made-up rabble that improvised a tropical Versailles under the dome of our National Capitol only lacked the phrase: "Let them eat cake."

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Opinion article: Las declaraciones y opiniones expresadas en este artículo son de exclusiva responsabilidad de su autor y no representan necesariamente el punto de vista de CiberCuba.