29 January 1998 Edition
US ignores Pope's condemnation of blockade
By Dara MacNeil
Given a choice between reporting on the alleged debauchery of their president, or the depraved and corrupt nature of their country's foreign policy, the US media opted for the former.
Their sense of priorities was mirrored by colleagues throughout the Western media.
Thus two days before John Paul II was due to condemn the US blockade of Cuba as ``unjust and ethically unacceptable'' a sizeable proportion of the US (and world) media beat a hasty retreat from Havana and returned to the US, there to delve into the more salacious details of Bill Clinton's alleged extra-curricular activities.
The Pope's remarkable condemnation of US policy towards Cuba became a relative non-event.
Ironically, at the cost of acute personal embarrassment to himself, President Clinton probably saved the US body politic from a great deal more embarrassment and criticism. That is not to suggest a conspiracy of any sort. That misses the point entirely.
In the early 1990s, the Tory MP Alan Clark acquired a degree of notoriety in the British press. This arose from Mr Clark's admission to having had an affair with the wife of a judge, and the woman's two daughters. The revelation made Clark a household name in Britain. A few years earlier Clark had laboured in obscurity, as the country's Defence Procurement Minister.
In office he approved the sale of Hawk aircraft to the Indonesian military. The contract was valued at £500 million. Purportedly for `training purposes' the Hawk went on to be used in offensive actions against the defenceless civilian population of occupied East Timor. That should have made him household name in Britain.
It didn't. In short, Mr Clark's sexual adventures were adjudged to be of greater moral import than aiding the murder of innocent civilians.
Years later, Clark justified the sale when he told John Pilger that his constituents (meaning himself) couldn't care less about what one ``bunch of foreigners'' were doing to another. Even then, Mr Clark's sexual peccadilloes proved of far greater interest to the British and international press. Similarly with the US and President Clinton.
Nonetheless, it is over the longer term that the real impact of the historic papal visit to Cuba will be felt. Within the country, this may or may not be reflected in a rise in religious (Catholic) observance. It doesn't really matter anyway.
Despite the best efforts of some commentators to demonstrate otherwise, Cuba is not a devotedly Catholic country yearning to be free of the atheistic diktat. Cuba is no Poland.
Even before the 1959 Revolution, practising Catholics numbered less than 40% of the population. A smaller, but still sizeable proportion of the population were Protestant.
The Catholic establishment, however, quickly became a focus for opposition to the new, revolutionary government. Their cause was not helped by the vigour with which Catholic authorities in the US promoted a return to the days of Batista.
Many were also cognisant of the support given by the Catholic establishment to Batista, in return for a social and political pre-eminence that belied their numerical strength in Cuba.
Others recalled how, even as late as the 1860s, the Cuban Catholic church actively supported slavery, arguing that the (black) slave would, through loyalty and obedience, acquire a soul as pure as ``white sugar.''
Following the defeat of the Bay of Pigs invasion in 1961, the cause of Catholicism was further damaged. Discovered among the effects of the invasion forces was a leaflet, signed by the mercenaries' chaplain, intended for distribution in Cuba.
It was addressed explicitly to the ``Catholics of Cuba''. Thus, not only was the church seen to present a direct threat to the Revolution, but it was also seen to be openly sectarian. Cuba, after all, was never a `Catholic' country. The leaflet concluded: ``Catholics: long live Cuba, free, democratic and Catholic.''
In the eyes of many Cubans, the official Catholic church was now wholly discredited. Thus, by the late 1980s, `observing' Catholics were estimated to number less than 100,000.
Nonetheless, religious observance was not (as some have claimed) banned. It was still permitted, albeit behind the closed doors of churches and private homes. Indeed, Castro frequently opposed the traditional conservatism of the Catholic establishment with the example of Camillo Torres - the 1960s Colombian priest who died after taking up arms against his country's wealthy elite.
By contrast, the country's Protestant churches were far quicker to accept and, in time, work with the Revolution. Many saw in Che Guevara's theory of the New Man a distinct reflection of the New Man of Christian theology.
Today, some of the Revolution's staunchest supporters can be found in the ranks of Protestant and Presbyterian churches. Nonetheless, for many, religion per se has become a curious historical anachronism, a dated relic of the old days.
Yet, despite the (Catholic) church-state tensions, members of the clergy and religious lay workers did not suffer the same fate as their colleagues in other Latin American countries. In Guatemala, El Salvador and pre-Sandinista Nicaragua grassroots church workers, priests and nuns were routinely murdered by the US backed authorities.
Indeed, it was in US financed El Salvador - not in Cuba - that Archbishop Romero was gunned down by a state-run death squad.
His crime was to demand an end to official murders and, a week before his murder, to demand an end to US military aid. It was that latter call which probably spurred the regime to action.
It was El Salvador - not in Cuba - that four US nuns were brutally raped and murdered by the same forces. They had recently arrived from Sandinista Nicaragua, a `crime' that carried the death penalty in El Salvador. And it was in El Salvador - not in Cuba - that seven Jesuits were massacred by death squads, in 1989. They too had criticised the US-backed regime. So much for religious freedom.
What will prove to be an enduring legacy of the papal visit therefore, will not be measured in attendance at Sunday mass. More crucial is the fact that the papal visit has added substantially to the isolation of the US internationally.
That an individual as virulently conservative as John Paul 11 can reach a rapprochement with the `godless' Cubans, merely serves to underline the utter foolishness of the US position on Cuba. Their position is fast becoming untenable.
Thus they now face opposition from a majority of the world's nations (as expressed on six consecutive occasions since 1992 in the UN General Assembly), the European Union and the Organisation of American States. The politically powerful voice of the papacy has now lent its voice to that coalition.
Implicit in the papal visit was an acknowledgement of Cuba's sovereignty and right to self-determination. That will severely undermine the `moral righteousness' of the anti-Castro catholic establishment in Miami. It will also lead more Catholics throughout the US to question the wisdom of their government's policy on Cuba.
Doubtless, John Paul II secretly harbours the hope that his visit will spark eruptions of devotion and fervour in Havana. But, as the devotion and fervour weren't really there to begin with, that seems unlikely.
However, perhaps most deserving of pity are those US and international media elements who abandoned Cuba for Washington. For in time it will become clear that the `big story' of January 1998 was in Havana, and not Bill Clinton's trousers.
Given a choice between reporting on the alleged debauchery of their president, or the depraved and corrupt nature of their country's foreign policy, the US media opted for the former.
Their sense of priorities was mirrored by colleagues throughout the Western media.
Thus two days before John Paul II was due to condemn the US blockade of Cuba as ``unjust and ethically unacceptable'' a sizeable proportion of the US (and world) media beat a hasty retreat from Havana and returned to the US, there to delve into the more salacious details of Bill Clinton's alleged extra-curricular activities.
The Pope's remarkable condemnation of US policy towards Cuba became a relative non-event.
Ironically, at the cost of acute personal embarrassment to himself, President Clinton probably saved the US body politic from a great deal more embarrassment and criticism. That is not to suggest a conspiracy of any sort. That misses the point entirely.
In the early 1990s, the Tory MP Alan Clark acquired a degree of notoriety in the British press. This arose from Mr Clark's admission to having had an affair with the wife of a judge, and the woman's two daughters. The revelation made Clark a household name in Britain. A few years earlier Clark had laboured in obscurity, as the country's Defence Procurement Minister.
In office he approved the sale of Hawk aircraft to the Indonesian military. The contract was valued at £500 million. Purportedly for `training purposes' the Hawk went on to be used in offensive actions against the defenceless civilian population of occupied East Timor. That should have made him household name in Britain.
It didn't. In short, Mr Clark's sexual adventures were adjudged to be of greater moral import than aiding the murder of innocent civilians.
Years later, Clark justified the sale when he told John Pilger that his constituents (meaning himself) couldn't care less about what one ``bunch of foreigners'' were doing to another. Even then, Mr Clark's sexual peccadilloes proved of far greater interest to the British and international press. Similarly with the US and President Clinton.
Nonetheless, it is over the longer term that the real impact of the historic papal visit to Cuba will be felt. Within the country, this may or may not be reflected in a rise in religious (Catholic) observance. It doesn't really matter anyway.
Despite the best efforts of some commentators to demonstrate otherwise, Cuba is not a devotedly Catholic country yearning to be free of the atheistic diktat. Cuba is no Poland.
Even before the 1959 Revolution, practising Catholics numbered less than 40% of the population. A smaller, but still sizeable proportion of the population were Protestant.
The Catholic establishment, however, quickly became a focus for opposition to the new, revolutionary government. Their cause was not helped by the vigour with which Catholic authorities in the US promoted a return to the days of Batista.
Many were also cognisant of the support given by the Catholic establishment to Batista, in return for a social and political pre-eminence that belied their numerical strength in Cuba.
Others recalled how, even as late as the 1860s, the Cuban Catholic church actively supported slavery, arguing that the (black) slave would, through loyalty and obedience, acquire a soul as pure as ``white sugar.''
Following the defeat of the Bay of Pigs invasion in 1961, the cause of Catholicism was further damaged. Discovered among the effects of the invasion forces was a leaflet, signed by the mercenaries' chaplain, intended for distribution in Cuba.
It was addressed explicitly to the ``Catholics of Cuba''. Thus, not only was the church seen to present a direct threat to the Revolution, but it was also seen to be openly sectarian. Cuba, after all, was never a `Catholic' country. The leaflet concluded: ``Catholics: long live Cuba, free, democratic and Catholic.''
In the eyes of many Cubans, the official Catholic church was now wholly discredited. Thus, by the late 1980s, `observing' Catholics were estimated to number less than 100,000.
Nonetheless, religious observance was not (as some have claimed) banned. It was still permitted, albeit behind the closed doors of churches and private homes. Indeed, Castro frequently opposed the traditional conservatism of the Catholic establishment with the example of Camillo Torres - the 1960s Colombian priest who died after taking up arms against his country's wealthy elite.
By contrast, the country's Protestant churches were far quicker to accept and, in time, work with the Revolution. Many saw in Che Guevara's theory of the New Man a distinct reflection of the New Man of Christian theology.
Today, some of the Revolution's staunchest supporters can be found in the ranks of Protestant and Presbyterian churches. Nonetheless, for many, religion per se has become a curious historical anachronism, a dated relic of the old days.
Yet, despite the (Catholic) church-state tensions, members of the clergy and religious lay workers did not suffer the same fate as their colleagues in other Latin American countries. In Guatemala, El Salvador and pre-Sandinista Nicaragua grassroots church workers, priests and nuns were routinely murdered by the US backed authorities.
Indeed, it was in US financed El Salvador - not in Cuba - that Archbishop Romero was gunned down by a state-run death squad.
His crime was to demand an end to official murders and, a week before his murder, to demand an end to US military aid. It was that latter call which probably spurred the regime to action.
It was El Salvador - not in Cuba - that four US nuns were brutally raped and murdered by the same forces. They had recently arrived from Sandinista Nicaragua, a `crime' that carried the death penalty in El Salvador. And it was in El Salvador - not in Cuba - that seven Jesuits were massacred by death squads, in 1989. They too had criticised the US-backed regime. So much for religious freedom.
What will prove to be an enduring legacy of the papal visit therefore, will not be measured in attendance at Sunday mass. More crucial is the fact that the papal visit has added substantially to the isolation of the US internationally.
That an individual as virulently conservative as John Paul 11 can reach a rapprochement with the `godless' Cubans, merely serves to underline the utter foolishness of the US position on Cuba. Their position is fast becoming untenable.
Thus they now face opposition from a majority of the world's nations (as expressed on six consecutive occasions since 1992 in the UN General Assembly), the European Union and the Organisation of American States. The politically powerful voice of the papacy has now lent its voice to that coalition.
Implicit in the papal visit was an acknowledgement of Cuba's sovereignty and right to self-determination. That will severely undermine the `moral righteousness' of the anti-Castro catholic establishment in Miami. It will also lead more Catholics throughout the US to question the wisdom of their government's policy on Cuba.
Doubtless, John Paul II secretly harbours the hope that his visit will spark eruptions of devotion and fervour in Havana. But, as the devotion and fervour weren't really there to begin with, that seems unlikely.
However, perhaps most deserving of pity are those US and international media elements who abandoned Cuba for Washington. For in time it will become clear that the `big story' of January 1998 was in Havana, and not Bill Clinton's trousers.