La Lucha for Cuba: Religion and Politics on the Streets of Miami (review)

Much has been written since the early 1960s about Miami's large and often-misunderstood exilic Cuban community. Most of the researchers have been specialists who focused on specific aspects of the broad exilic experience; although frequently interesting and sometimes valuable, these works illuminate only disconnected fragments of the whole mosaic. Conversely, Dr. De La Torre's concurrent roles as Director of the ILIFF School of Theology's Justice and Peace Institute, associate professor of social ethics, ordained clergyman, and devoted lifelong member of the exilic Cuban community provide him not only with broad arrays of expertise but also with the rare combination of perspectives needed to conduct this expansive, insightful, well-integrated, and long-needed study of contemporary Miami cubanidad. Using the much-publicized Elián González custody battle as a backdrop, he portrays the exilic Cuban community as a rich ajaico (Cuban stew) comprised of many positive elements but containing also many components that are deeply troubling to the author and, I believe, to many of his readers.

One of these themes is the widespread acceptance—often ingrained since childhood and rarely questioned—of a "distinctly Miami-style spirituality" that is based more upon hatred for Fidel Castro than upon love of God. It is one that posits el exilio and la lucha as the crux of Christian reflection, faith, and practice; and one that fosters fidelity to community norms above fidelity to Scripture and the principles of Christian ethics. A second theme is the use of la lucha concepts to misrepresent capitalism as a vital weapon in the "holy war" against Castro-style socialism—thereby justifying privilege of the exilic elite. A third theme is the deterioration of the hard-won right to political expression into a single-issue voting bloc that all too often compromises family interests in the electoral process. Fourth is the pervasive and multidimensional structures of intra-ethnic oppression based on race, gender, age, income, social class, and degree of conformity to the rigidly-imposed patterns of thought and speech that are ostensibly essential to the maintenance of a united front against vaguely-defined "forces of evil." Finally, there is the issue of isolation, partially situational and partially voluntary, from Caucasian, African-American, and non-Cuban Hispanic communities.

In the first sentence of his Preface, De La Torre acknowledges that his book will be "unsettling" for many Miami Cubans, and that he may well be labeled a communist and a Castro apologist, ostracized by those who "demand absolute conformity in thought in order to present a united front" (p. vi). A corollary apprehension, unstated but almost palpable, is that such fears of self-examination may stop him from reaching the very individuals he is most trying to help. Deeply influenced by José Martí, who strove to confront all injustices whether they were committed against his people or by his people, De La Torre sees his role as addressing "unspoken issues" out of concern for his community in Miami, and his homeland on the island.

De la Torre's unflinching gaze and his findings are analogous in their intent to those of a physician whose examination reveals evidence of serious but curable maladies. In both instances, the diagnosis is frightening and unpleasant to hear but is essential to recovery and revitalization. The renewal and revitalization of the Cuban community in Miami and in Cuba is the mission also of In Comunión, a partnership between the Catholic Archdiocese of Miami, the Catholic Church of Cuba, and St. Thomas University, which offers its unswerving commitment and its considerable talents to all sincere efforts toward reconciliation and renewal.

The challenges for all parties are undeniably great, but there is reason for hope. As the Catholic Bishops of Mexico and the United States wrote in their Pastoral Letter on the Emigration: "The Word...