Exceptional Program: Report on “Cuban Exceptionalism”
Allen Wells shares a thought during Cuban Exceptionalism (credit: Diane Hudson)
“Cuban Exceptionalism: Reflections on Latin American History” highlighted what the MHC does best: showing how a single theme—in this case, the history of Cuba—can inform and inspire the present. This daylong, sold-out program on December 4 in Portland included lectures, discussions, poetry, and even music.
Professor David Carey of USM and Professors Allen Wells and Enrique Yepes of Bowdoin College showed humanities in action. The day began with a quick snapshot from Allen Wells of where Cuban history parallels the rest of Latin America (authoritarian rule, racial diversity, nationalism, and a monoculture of exported products), and how it is historically different (strategically as a gateway to the Caribbean, having the isolation and insularity common to islands, and its status as a “protectorate” of the United States).
In one activity of the day, Wells asked everyone to read a letter from the writer, political activist, and national hero José Martí that he wrote to Manuel Mercado in 1895. Participants were to choose a quote to share in a “Quaker reading.” Voices among the more than 100 participants rose one by one: “I have lived in the monster and I know its entrails; my sling is David’s,” and “Our spirit is one, the will of the country, and I know it” (two of the most repeated phrases). As quotes rang out, Wells offered comments, including the suggestion that the sense of duty reflected in the letter was not as common to American intellectuals of the same period.
After a brief and fascinating foray into the world of sport (and how baseball became established in Cuba) by Wells, an ardent Mets fan, David Carey brought Cuba home to Portland. In the 19th century, Portland was one of the largest trade ports, with one of the largest imports being Cuba’s national product: sugar. Wealthy Cubans sent their children to study at private Portland schools, and many wealthy Portlanders established plantations in Cuba. Carey noted that Portland benefited tremendously from slavery in Cuba (a result of the sugar industry), the bitter irony being the pride the city took in supporting the fight against slavery in the U.S.
Wells and Carey went on to highlight the U.S. role in more recent events in Cuba. Cuba’s long reliance on the U.S. to import sugar caused an uncomfortably close relationship. U.S. vacationers sought an exciting tropical getaway in this “backyard” where they could indulge in behaviors they might not want people back home to know about. Bars, gambling, and prostitution were common attractions for tourists, and, up through 1957, the eve of the Cuban revolution, the country was known in the U.S. as a sordid place—despite the fact that Americans were only seeing the part of Cuba created by their demand.
As this was happening, suicides, crime, drug and alcohol abuse, political corruption, and divorce rates in Cuba all increased. The Saturday Evening Post, which many Cubans read, published articles that portrayed Cuba as an immoral country. “These perceptions challenged some of the most vital assumptions Cubans had about who they were,” Carey said. This backward and primal behavior contrasted strongly with Cubans’ pride in their urbanity and modernity. As a result, in part, of this slight on the national character, Batista’s takeover of the country made many Cubans feel powerless.
Carey’s descriptive analysis helped participants understand the support behind Fidel Castro, and the country’s mixed feelings toward the United States. Primary source documents used to help analyze the situation included American diplomat (and author of the “containment” theory”) George Kennan’s “A Realist Views Latin America,” Castro’s early speech “History Will Absolve Me,” and an exchange of letters between Castro and Khrushchev during the Cuban Missile Crisis. (Packets also contained information describing creative ways that teachers in attendance might use these documents in their classrooms.)
The day also included a good dose of the arts: an analysis of the popular imagery depicting Che Guevara, a discussion of Christina Garcia’s Dreaming in Cuban, and a reading of poetry written by celebrated poet Nicolás Guillén (1902-1989). Bowdoin professor Enrique Yepes introduced the last. While putting Guillén’s work in the context of the artistic as well as political scene of the day, Yepes also played recordings of Guillén reading his 1947 “Un son para niños antillanos,” and a musical performance of Guillén’s 1964 poem “Tengo” by Pablo Milanés. (“You can see why some of our students major in Yepes,” quipped Wells of his colleague, prompting nods from many in the room who no doubt would be tempted to do the same were they at Bowdoin these days.)
Many thanks are due to the excellent presenters. A significant hand of applause must go to MHC staff who helped with this event, and special kudos to Martina Duncan, who guided it to its final form.
