Fleeing from Fidel's Rule

Thousands besiege the Peruvian embassy demanding asylum

It was one of the most dramatic protests against the austerities and repression of life in Cuba in years. Last week more than 7,000 men, women and children poured through the gates and clambered over the walls of the Peruvian embassy on Havana's spacious Avenida Quinta, demanding asylum. Some accounts put the figure as high as 10,800. There they remained through a week of tension and confusion as Latin American diplomats agonized over what to do with them.

Some of the fortunate found relief from the tropical sun under the spreading leaves of mango trees in the embassy gardens. But others were overcome by sunstroke and dehydration. Dozens of children lay sprawled on the cool terrazzo floor of the two-story mansion, while one mother nursed her newborn baby, aptly named Peru. "There are people in the branches of the trees, on top of the mangled iron gate and even on the roof of the embassy," wailed one beleaguered Peruvian official. "There's not enough room for one more person."

The headlong rush for freedom was touched off after six asylum-seeking Cubans in a bus rammed through the embassy gate; in the fracas, a policeman was killed. Cuban authorities subsequently announced that they were withdrawing their guards from the embassy. Havana has had an ongoing dispute with Peru and other Latin American countries over their policy of granting political asylum to gatecrashing Cubans who manage to gain entrance to their embassies. There is some suspicion that in withdrawing guards from the Peruvian compound officials knew what would happen: thousands of unhappy Cubans from every walk of life began streaming into the 20-acre embassy grounds. Declared Radio Havana: "If the government of Peru wishes to receive in their country all the antisocials and bums, we will be glad to authorize them to leave our country and also those who are ideologically in disagreement with the revolution and socialism."

On a visit to the embassy, President Fidel Castro told the asylum seekers that they would all be given visas to leave if other countries would accept them. He also assured them that they could move freely out of the embassy, but many refused to budge, fearful that they would not be readmitted or would be beaten up by the pro-regime bullyboys who waited just outside. Meanwhile, Peruvian officials, pleading that they could not possibly accommodate all the refugees, called an emergency meeting of the Andean pact nations. At week's end all five members --Venezuela, Ecuador, Colombia, Bolivia and Peru--as well as several other countries offered to take in the refugees. The U.S., which has admitted 800,000 Cubans since Castro came to power in 1959, will accept a "fair share of the refugees," said a State Department spokesman.

This was not the first time that Castro had found an escape hatch to rid Cuba of potential troublemakers. Observers recalled last week that he had acted similarly back in 1965, in the midst of serious unrest and economic troubles. At that time, he decided to open the port of Camarioca on the north coast. Flotillas of boats from Florida promptly moved in as Cuban exiles came to pick up their relatives. The port opening eventually led to the "freedom flights" sponsored by the U.S. Government that by 1973, when the airlift ended, had transported some 270,000 Cuban refugees to the U.S. Last month, in fact, Castro hinted that he might again open a port to allow Cubans to leave at will.

Cuba's 9.8 million people have unquestionably fallen on hard times. In a lengthy speech last December, the Cuban president described his country as "sailing in a sea of difficulties." He delivered a litany of economic woes and other problems besetting the country. Chief among them is the fact that, despite efforts to develop fishing and citrus industries, Cuba is still tied to the boom-and-bust cycle of the sugar market. Sugar prices dropped from a high of 600 per lb. in 1974 to 100 per lb. last year. In addition a severe blight destroyed most of the tobacco crop last year, shutting down cigar factories. Cuba now actually imports tobacco from Spain for domestic consumption.

Because of the lack of foreign exchange, goods from the West have all but disappeared. Those from the Soviet bloc are scarce and expensive. Rationing is severe and strictly enforced. City dwellers, for instance, are allotted only 12 oz. of meat every nine days; consequently, fresh beef brings $10 per lb. on the burgeoning black market. Even black beans, a staple of the Cuban diet, are in short supply.

Cuba specialists in Washington explain that some 100,000 expatriates have recently returned to the island for visits, and this has served to point up the hardships of those who remained in Cuba. Says an Administration official: "The presence of conspicuously consuming relatives from Miami with their tales of steaks, automobiles and air conditioning made the austerity much harder to take." The scarcities have spawned some wry humor. Taxis are so hard to get that they are referred to as "the uncapturables." Buses are likened to aspirin--take one every four hours.

Washington analysts do not believe the exodus at the Peruvian embassy represents any fundamental threat to Castro's regime. They point out that there have been no signs inside Cuba of militant opposition to the revolution since the mid-1960s. Says Riordan Roett, Latin American specialist at Johns Hopkins University: "The stability of Castro's regime is not by any means threatened by the prospect of popular uprising." Probably not. But Castro's influence, especially in view of his ambitions to leadership in Latin America, has hardly been enhanced.

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