Cuba, despite the U.S. embargo, has proven a formidable summer Olympic contender. The nation placed eleventh in the medal count at the 2004 Olympics, an impressive showing for a nation of roughly 11 million -- below 70th in the world in terms of population. In 2000, Cuba was eighth in medals earned, in 1996, ninth.
Since the end of the Cold War America has lost touch with the political competitiveness of the games. With the United States' global power unchallenged, we find ourselves often dwelling on the “good will” of the games, or on individual athletes whose stories have inspired us. We’ve lost touch with the national pride that a victory can inspire. For many nations, a single medal can be as powerful as the 1980 "miracle on ice," or Mary Lou Retton’s 1984 all around title.
For Havana, the summer games are seen as a time to demonstrate the success of the revolution. They’re an equalizer of sorts -- an opportunity to earn global respect on a level playing field.
But the lead up to the games has had the opposite effect. Multiple defections have underscored one of the many disadvantages of maintaining an authoritarian state with an impoverished economy. Talented people, given the option, will often choose to leave.
And they certainly are. The defection of four major boxers and the sidelining of a fifth who tried to flee but failed, have left the team with inexperienced fighters. This is not isolated. The disappearance of three members of Cuba’s AAA Junior baseball team in Edmonton this week, has set a decisive tone for Havana’s participants in Beijing.
This is a change from just a few years ago. A recent Miami Herald article recalls Felix Savon, who won three gold medals before retiring after the 2000 games, telling Don King -- who had offered Savon a multi-million dollar contract to defect and box professional in the states: “Why would I box for a million dollars when I can fight for 10 million Cuban people?''
Revolutionary fervor, it seems, must be earned. The poor economic performance of the past decade, combined with Raul's lowering of expectations in his July 26, 2008 speech at Moncada Barracks, is not enough to secure even the loyalty of Cubans who have received the best the government can offer.
Maslow's hierarchy of basic needs predicts this problem: people need security, identity, community, and self-actualization, in that order. If they do not get it they either seek it out --in this case, by defecting -- or they become fertile ground for the next generation of revolutionaries...or counter-revolutionaries.
Appeals to nationalism, and, in Cuba's case, a common enemy, have succeeded for decades in keeping Cubans loyal to the revolution. When Cuba felt the sting of real isolation, this worked. But now Cuba is, in effect, fully integrated with the global economy, with the United States being Cuba's fifth largest trading partner despite the embargo. "El bloqueo", far from hastening a change in the Cuban system, is sustaining it by providing a constant sense of threat.
Nationalism and fear are alive and well in Cuba this summer. Look at the Olympic send-offs from the two Castro brothers. Fidel's comments -- “To the glorious Cuban athletes on their way to the Olympic Games: Go forward, and traveling with you is the love of our people to our native land,” -- rang with the mystique of a fabled revolution, while Raul’s farewell -- “You all know what the Cuban people expect from you," sounded far more like the charge of a dictator on uncertain ground.
Cuba stands at a crossroads. U.S. policy has provided a crutch to the Havana regime, a fail-safe scapegoat for any and all of the island's woes. We can continue to prolong a cruel level of economic underperformance, or we can help Cuba face the need to embrace a new path. The choice is ours.
(Patrick Doherty contributed to this post.)