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The propaganda machinery of the Cuban regime remains in "damage control" mode.
Ten days after the video of Miguel Díaz-Canel's outburst with a resident affected by the Granma situation went viral on social media, the official program 'Chapeando Bajito', hosted by Arleen Rodríguez Derivet, returned with a new episode aimed at exonerating the leader from any lack of empathy.
Under the title “What Melissa Took and Brought,” the veteran pamphleteer devoted her space to a personal defense exercise of the ruler, in which she accused the “noisy crowd of social media” of manipulating the scene and “spreading hate,” while insisting that Díaz-Canel “has shown ample evidence of deep sensitivity”.
The text, more akin to a moral sermon than to a journalistic analysis, repeated the usual script of the authorities: victimizing the power, blaming the emigrants, and justifying insensitivity with heroic rhetoric.
In that vein, Rodríguez Derivet spoke of "modern rayadillos" —comparing the regime's critics to the colonial Spanish soldiers— and accused them of "descending directly from the enemies of independence" simply for questioning the handling of the disaster following Hurricane Melissa and the lack of empathy from the leader of the so-called "continuity."
According to the account of the Guantanamo propagandist, the "haters" do not contribute or help, while true patriots "donate mattresses" and trust in the leadership of their "soul brother," the designated leader who always includes her in the entourage of his international tours.
However, the message stumbles upon a reality that can no longer be hidden, neither with spiritual metaphors nor with revolutionary sentimentality: the entire country saw the video, and the image of the president, nervous, evasive, and aggressive towards an elderly woman asking for a bed, cannot be erased with a benevolent transcript.
One of the most revealing passages in Rodríguez Derivet's text came when he attempted to justify why the program did not show the full video of the exchange between the president and the woman.
"Only the person who filmed it with their phone has that video," they asserted, as if a state media outlet had neither the means nor access to obtain it.
Instead of displaying the images— which could confirm or contradict their account— 'Chapeando bajito' only provided a "reconstructed" transcript by the journalists present. This acknowledgment effectively amounts to admitting that the official narrative is based on hearsay, rather than on verifiable visual evidence.
On the other hand, Rodríguez Derivet's insistence on "goodwill," "the love that returns," and "the nobility of the people" contrasted sharply with the weakness of the central argument: that Díaz-Canel's response was "honest" and "human."
For Rodríguez Derivet, using a rude and violent tone to tell a woman who has lost everything, "I don’t have a bed to give you right now," is, paradoxically, a sign of sincerity, not a lack of empathy.
Even so, in his defense effort, Rodríguez Derivet revealed a crack: he admitted that "the form was not the best," although he immediately tried to redeem the leader by appealing to his "sincerity" and "human exhaustion."
That seemingly innocent phrase is the only moment of realism in the entire text. Because by acknowledging that the scene conveyed something inappropriate, Rodríguez Derivet inadvertently validated what millions of Cubans saw with their own eyes: a ruler overwhelmed, impatient, and disconnected from the suffering around him.
"I particularly hold on to that honest expression: 'I'm not going to lie to you,'" concluded the journalist, in a defense that seemed more desperate than convincing.
The problem, however, is not just what was said, but what was revealed: the media leadership of the Castro regime, unable to admit mistakes or apologize, has opted for a united front that combines emotional propaganda, moral manipulation, and attacks on critics.
Rodríguez Derivet's piece arrived just hours after Abel Prieto's unsuccessful attempt to rehabilitate Díaz-Canel on X with the hashtag *#YoSigoAMiPresidente*, which led to a flood of mockery and over 10,000 negative comments.
With this new release, 'Chapeando Bajito' confirms that the official communication strategy does not aim to restore citizen trust but rather to impose an alternative narrative for all to see, even if no one believes it.
Like in the old days of party propaganda, Rodríguez Derivet does not inform but preaches: critics are traitors, dissenters are manipulated, and the only legitimate ones are those who remain silent or applaud.
But today, social media does not follow the dictates of the Palace. In his attempt to "humanize" the ruler, Rodríguez Derivet ended up once again highlighting the disintegration of a communicative machinery that repeats patriotic mantras before an exhausted people. The phrase "everyone who gives love will receive love" sounded almost cruel in a country where bread, electricity, and hope are in short supply.
"Chapeando Bajito" aimed to conclude the chapter on the "Granma woman" with a lesson in revolutionary love. Yet, what remains, once again, is the echo of a country that no longer believes in the tales of power or in the borrowed tears of its spokespersons.
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