“I can't breathe” were the final words of George Floyd, repeated more than 20 times while a white Minneapolis police officer, Derek Chauvin, pressed his knee into Floyd’s neck for nearly nine minutes on May 25, 2020. The horrific killing of George Floyd ignited mass anti-police brutality protests in more than 1,700 cities and towns in all 50 U.S. states and hundreds of cities worldwide. “I Can't Breathe” has been painted on murals, banners, protest signs and chanted by protesters along with “Black Lives Matter.”
The jury selection process for the trial of the killer cop, Dereck Chauvin, began on March 9, 2021 with testimonies set to begin on March 29, 2021. Protests demanding "Justice for George Floyd" and "Convict Killer Cops" have taken place outside the Minneapolis courthouse and across the United States.
Fire This Time is printing an excellent article by August Nimtz, a professor of Political Science and African-American and African Studies at the University of Minnesota. He is also a resident of Minneapolis.
Civil liberties and human rights are
frequent targets of critics of the Cuban
Revolution. There are indeed limits to
civil liberties in Cuba. Where I differ
from most of Cuba’s critics is their
assumption that these limits are in
place against the will of the majority
of Cubans. That is the price, I argue,
that most of them are willing to pay
for defending their sovereignty against
their implacable foe to the north,
looking forward to the day when those
limitations are no longer in place.
If human rights includes, as United
Nations instruments do, economic,
social, and cultural rights such as
healthcare, then Cuba does as well as,
if not better than, the United States.
Witness, as I write, the exemplary job it
is doing in combatting Covid-19, unlike
its northern neighbour. But almost
never on the list of alleged human
rights abuses on the island, particularly
those drawn up by US critics, is police
brutality–specifically, the killing of
Cuban citizens, and especially those
with roots in Africa. Even the most
vociferous critics of the “repressive
Cuban regime”, to use their language, are
unable to produce any credible evidence
that the police in Cuba murder blacks as
they do in the United States. Their silence
on the matter is almost deafening.
The hated US-backed Fulgencio Batista
regime that was overthrown in 1959 was
notorious for its brutality. Its police were
particularly sanguinary. A parent going to
a police station in search of a missing son
dreaded to hear the detested “se estaba
. . . ” from the authorities—”he used to
be”. For Afro-Cubans the situation was
especially horrific. This is why many of
the police assassins, some of whom were
black, were tried and executed within
months of the revolution’s triumph on 1
January 1959, to the applause of millions
of Cubans.
But am I guilty of comparing apples and
oranges, two very different societies?
The history of both societies suggests
otherwise. If the murder of George Floyd
has its origins in the institution of racial
slavery, as some would argue, then we
should expect to see similar outcomes in
Cuba. It existed there almost a century
before being planted in what would
become the United States. And it outlived
America’s “peculiar institution” by two
decades. But, again, what happened to
George Floyd simply does not happen in
Cuba.
Think of another country in the Americas
with a long history of racial slavery,
Brazil–where the police regularly kill
blacks with impunity. What, then,
explains Cuban exceptionalism? Exactly
what happened in 1959: the triumph of
the Cuban Revolution.
In the twenty-five month lead-up to that
victory on 1 January 1959, the Rebel
Army, once it liberated a piece of territory
from Batista’s despised military, realized
that a police force was needed–along with
other social services like healthcare and
education. To be effective, the new police force, unlike its
predecessor, depended on the support
and active cooperation of the denizens.
This practice informed the Rebel Army
when it forced Batista to flee the island
on 31 December 1958. In collaboration
with the underground, the 26th of July
Movement, a general strike took place
the following day. Key to its success
was the seizure of police stations–a
relatively easy and bloodless operation
owing precisely to the mass character of
the general strike. Rank-and-file police
surrendered or tried to blend into the
crowds.
“No police”, as the New York Times
reported on 6 January, “are on the streets
since they are held in quarters and all
officers are under arrest. A few police
patrol cars are circulating, occupied by
two policemen and two members of the
rebel militia. Boy scouts are directing
traffic in some places.” Thus began the
simultaneous top-down/bottom-up
reinvention of Cuba’s police. The Rebel
Army commander who headed up the
police in the liberated areas became the
national head of Cuba’s new police force.
The intimate collaboration between the
Rebel Army and local population to
police an area generalized to the entire
country.
When I ask Cuban friends about
“snitching” to the police when they see
misbehaviour in their neighbourhoods,
they immediately say, “of course; why
not?” US police constantly complain
about not getting that kind of
cooperation. Unlike in the United States,
especially in communities of colour,
Cubans do not see the police as a foreign
occupation force. A US rapper once said
about the police: “when they start to
snitch on each other, then we’ll snitch.”
Race continues to be a challenge for the
revolution. Fidel Castro acknowledged
as much in a speech to a largely African
American and Latinx audience in New
York in 2000–the unfinished quest for
racial equality exposed with the collapse
of the Soviet Union. Thus began a series
of programs and measures that have
garnered some success.
I have had only one encounter with
Cuban police during my visits since 1983.
In 2006, while sightseeing with a woman
friend who was Caucasian, a policeman,
a mulatto, thinking I was Cuban,
asked for my identification–a frequent
complaint of black Cubans. Cuba has
strict laws against the harassment
of tourists. Without my passport, I
eventually convinced him I was a US
citizen. He appeared, at the end, a bit
sheepish about the whole matter. Never
did I feel threatened; maybe because like
most police in Cuba–at least then–he
did not carry a gun.
I confess that I have had only one
negative (something I am not doing
right!)—but telling—experience with
the police in Minnesota since moving
here in 1971. It was due to the former
chief of police of Minneapolis, Tony
Bouza, and occurred in his own home.
I was attending a Cuba-related event
in late winter 1995, hosted by his wife.
Together with my then companion, who
was Caucasian, we were retrieving our
overcoats from one of his bedrooms. He
came in and without cause began trying
to provoke a fight by mocking how I
looked. I thought, at first, that he was
being facetious. No, he was serious, and I
decided not to take the bait and quickly
left. “Imagine”, I remember saying later,
“being a black male in the Minneapolis
police station when he was in charge”.
Being more conscious about my blood
pressure–not unimportant for African
American men–I have noted that it
improves when I have been in Cuba.
Maybe because I am more relaxed there,
unconsciously less on guard when it
comes to the police.
For those who fault America’s “original
sin” for George Floyd’s murder, Cuba
teaches that history is not destiny. Again,
despite the revolution’s continuing
challenges on the race question, what
happened to Floyd does not happen
in Cuba. Even its severest critics have
to agree with this. Is there a better
explanation than what I offer here?
August H. Nimtz is Professor of Political
Science and African American and African
Studies, and Distinguished Teaching
Professor, at the University of Minnesota.
Recent publications include Lenin’s Electoral
Strategy from Marx and Engels through the
Revolution of 1905: The Ballot, the Streets–
or Both (2014), Lenin’s Electoral Strategy
from 1907 to the October Revolution of 1917:
The Ballot, the Streets–or Both (2014), and
Marxism versus Liberalism: Comparative
Real-Time Political Analysis (2019).
Back to Article Listing
