World

Fidel Castro: it's time the Latin American left found new heroes

But the Cuban leader wasn't simply a villain

November 28, 2016
Fidel Castro speaking in Havanna in 1978 ©Marcelo Montecino
Fidel Castro speaking in Havanna in 1978 ©Marcelo Montecino

 After the Cuban Revolution, Fidel Castro emerged a defining figure in the Cold War. He played a much stronger hand in world politics than anyone could have predicted given the size and history of his country. For the Latin American revolutionary left, the small island nation, located just 90 miles from Florida became an ideological lighthouse from the off. And, at a more practical level, it served as a financial and training hub. The events of 1959 immediately and boldly redrew the limits of political possibility; the links that Castro subsequently forged with leftist movements elsewhere on the continent further enhanced their capabilities and resolve. His example and his support thus contributed to the increasingly polarised politics in the region, and indeed the political violence, that was undermining the viability of Latin American democracy. The wave of democratisation that shook Latin America in the late 1970s reduced Cuba’s regional influence. The left was hard hit by the brutality of repression during dictatorships and civil wars in many countries. In the face of state terrorism, most radicals revisited their stance towards democracy. For all its flaws and bourgeois undertones, the idea of competitive elections acquired new attraction, which damaged Castro’s stock. And then came the collapse of the Soviet Union, Cuba’s great patron in the international system. Castro had to go back to the drawing board to ensure regime survival: he cut back on his internationalist ventures, somewhat opened the economy, and embarked on a rapprochement strategy vis-à-vis democracies in Latin America as well as Europe. The rise of Hugo Chavez brought along with it a fierce alternative to the liberal consensus of the 1990s. The Venezuelan leader put forward a model of constitutionalism that emphasised the majoritarian side of democracy, at the expense of checks, accountability and other “republican” features. Castro became a focal point of a so-called “Bolivarian” network, a label which nodded at Simon Bolivar, the early 19th century leader who had helped win independence for Venezuela and other states. The emergence of this new alignment allowed the now ageing Castro to, once again, return to the main stage of Latin American politics. The relationship between Castro and Chavez went beyond the exchange of plentiful Cuban doctors for plentiful Venezuelan petrodollars; it helped fuel the rhetoric and raise the profile of the Bolivarian challenge to the regional order. At the same time, however, Chavez was keen to emphasise that his brand of socialism was one designed for the “21st century,” implicitly distinguishing it from Cuba’s 20th century model. The new realities of world politics made it hard to imitate a regime that imprisoned the opposition, stifled the free press and allowed for no meaningful electoral competition. True, Venezuelan plebiscitarian democracy later evolved into competitive authoritarianism. Indeed, after Chavez’s death, the competitive aspect of that label was steadily lost. But these sorry developments cannot be attributed to Cuba’s ideological influence. For the ironic truth is that during the very period in which Venezuela descended into chaos and became increasingly isolated from its neighbours, the island nation made historic progress in improving its relationship with the United States. Castro’s death has inevitably reignited the debate about his legacy. Nowhere is this debate more passionate than in the Americas. Dismissing Castro as an authoritarian villain hampers a nuanced appraisal of his historic role in regional and world politics; and it does little to help address the current predicaments of the Cuban people. But elevating him into a hero, as many on the left have done, is not defensible either, at least not for democrats. Because democracy requires leaders who are prepared to put institutions and procedures before preferred outcomes on particular policies. If heroes are those whose words and deeds illuminate the way forward, the Latin American left definitely need to find new ones.