The Militant (logo)  

Vol. 76/No. 17      April 30, 2012

 
Puerto Rico, Cuba:
‘same enemy, shared struggle’
Puerto Rican independence fighter Carlos Alberto Torres
talks about Fernando González, one of Cuban Five
 

The following is a tribute to Fernando González, one of five Cubans who were arrested in September 1998 and framed up by the U.S. government for their work in defense of the Cuban Revolution. It was given by Carlos Alberto Torres, a longtime Puerto Rican independence fighter and himself a former political prisoner, at an Oct. 29, 2010, meeting in San Juan, Puerto Rico, organized by the Puerto Rico Committee for Solidarity with Cuba.

The five—Antonio Guerrero, Fernando González, Gerardo Hernández, Ramón Labañino and René González—were convicted on trumped-up charges that included conspiracy to commit espionage and, in the case of Hernández, conspiracy to commit murder.

At the time of their arrest they were living in southern Florida gathering information for the Cuban government on activities of Cuban-American counterrevolutionary groups with a history of attacks on Cuba and supporters of the Cuban Revolution with the complicity of Washington.

All but René González, who began a three-year parole Oct. 7, remain in prison. Fernando González is serving 17 years and 9 months; Guerrero, 21 years and 10 months; Labañino, 30 years; and Hernández, double life plus 15 years.

In March of this year, Torres was in New York campaigning for the release of the three Puerto Rican independence fighters currently locked up in U.S. prisons: Oscar López, Avelino González Claudio, and Norberto González Claudio. Torres, 59, was released on parole in July 2010 after serving 30 years of a 78-year sentence in federal prisons for “seditious conspiracy” and other trumped-up charges. Today Oscar López has already served nearly 31 years behind bars.

Speaking with Militant reporters during his New York visit, Torres noted that he had shared five of his years at the federal prison in Oxford, Wis., with Fernando González. Torres also met González’s mother and wife, Magali Llort and Rosa Aurora Freijanes, during their visits to Oxford. In 2007 González was transferred to the federal prison in Terre Haute, Ind., where Oscar López is also incarcerated.

Translation is by the Militant.
 

*****

In 2002, in the Oxford, Wisconsin, federal prison, as I was painting a work in oil called Resurrection, another inmate told me one of the five Cuban political prisoners had arrived. It was Fernando González Llort. Prison officials called him “Rubén Campa,” a pseudonym Fernando had used before his arrest.

After getting to know him and a few brief conversations, he told me his name was Fernando, not Rubén. He said, without any sign of annoyance, that the prison officials knew this but hadn’t corrected it, perhaps out of bureaucratic indifference.

It seemed to me almost humorous that this Cuban, so reserved and careful, always respectful and correct, showed so little concern at being called the wrong name. I too had used a pseudonym during the years I was underground, and I remembered that after my arrest in 1980, it was actually something of a relief to be able to use my own name again.

Fernando’s apparent indifference about what name he was called was a detail that revealed an important aspect of the person his experiences had created. It didn’t matter to him what definition prison officials imposed, because that had nothing to do with who he was. He kept a wall between them and him. Even in these circumstances, the only thing that mattered to him was how he defined himself. He and I were in complete agreement on this.

Over time we got to know each other more and understand each other better. I learned something of the arrest of the Cuban Five. Although I wasn’t familiar with the details of the charges against them and the sentences the federal court gave to Fernando, Ramón, René, Antonio and Gerardo, it was easy to imagine the duplicity and injustice behind their imprisonment. I also didn’t know, but could imagine, the abuse and isolation the five Cuban patriots had suffered since their arrest.

Cuban 5’s unbreakable commitment

Before me was an honest, committed man with a deep political consciousness. Despite the hardships he had been through, he showed no bitterness over his situation. He was proud he was carrying out his duty for Cuba, his nation and homeland. I have no doubt that all five Cuban heroes, defenders of the security of their homeland and their people, are men of outstanding uprightness and unbreakable commitment. The five have been punished because of the U.S. government’s hatred of the Cuban Revolution. Until I met Fernando, I thought this kind of mistreatment of prisoners was reserved solely for Puerto Rican political prisoners.

Over time we shared many things. Rare was the time that Fernando wouldn’t accompany me on walks in the prison yard. They became a time to talk about everything: personal memories, heated debates, banter that sometimes tailed off into jokes or recollections of girlfriends of our youth.

Shared struggle of Cuba, Puerto Rico

During the years we were both inmates in Wisconsin, I think we got to know each other as two individuals who were fighting for their homeland and were sacrificing themselves for it as well. I think we reached an understanding that the struggles for the independence of our two countries were deeply related. We are still fighting to win Puerto Rico’s independence—Cuba is fighting to protect and preserve hers. There’s a saying that Cuba and Puerto Rico are petals from the same flower, that they are sister islands with a long history of shared struggles. There, in prison in Oxford, Wisconsin, the truth of that saying was demonstrated in flesh and blood.

I learned more details about the unjust trial that kept the five Cuban heroes locked up in prison. I got to know better the character and spirit of resistance to injustice shown by Gerardo, Ramón, Antonio, René, and Fernando. And I was able see the determination to fight and the love that marked their families.

I should say something about what the support of family members, friends and compañeros means when you’re in prison. That support is absolutely essential. It sustains us, it gives us strength when we are feeling the weight of imprisonment. The love and commitment of our loved ones helps us put things back in perspective when prison conditions get to us so much that we lose focus. It’s not possible to capture in words the full importance of contact and visits with our loved ones.

Our jailers know this too. For prison officials, contact and visits with our families can be turned into a weapon to use against us. For the Puerto Rican political prisoners, and later for the five Cuban political prisoners as well, one tactic for attacking us has been to interfere with or deny contact or visits with our loved ones. They harass them or bar their visits. It shouldn’t surprise us, then, that both in the case of Oscar and Avelino, and in that of Gerardo, Ramón, René, Antonio, and Fernando, the tactic of interfering with family visits becomes a club to try to beat them down.

Despite the many restrictions and limitations, I had the honor and pleasure of meeting Fernando’s mother and wife. They are kind human beings, tireless and dedicated workers. Not only are they doing everything they can to bring Fernando and his compañeros home. They are fighting women who defend their people with a strong sense of commitment and responsibility. Although I haven’t met personally the family members of the other Cuban political prisoners, I know they too are fighting for them and support them, no matter what restrictions the jailers impose. Those same close family ties are something our patriots Oscar and Avelino have shared as well.

Today, both Cuba and Puerto Rico have patriots behind bars in U.S. federal prisons. We have the same nemesis, the same jailer. The same zombie—to use a Haitian term—who wants to bury Oscar and Avelino alive in the depths of the prison is trying to bury Fernando, Gerardo, Ramón, Antonio, and René as well.

In this battle to win our patriots’ freedom—which will be like a rebirth, a resurrection for them when they return home—both peoples can support each other and fight together in solidarity until Oscar and Avelino are brought home to us and Fernando, René, Gerardo, Ramón, and Antonio are brought back to their homes in Cuba.
 
 
Related articles:
Art exhibitions to win support for Cuban 5 set to open in UK
Free the five Cuban revolutionaries!
‘Exploited of America have begun writing own history’  
 
 
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