Fidel & Religion. Fidel Castro

its needs through the distribution of goods, as is done in Cuba. In order to amass so many resources, countries such as Sweden — where even the workers have a high standard of living — need to keep the transnational corporations exploiting the Third World countries. In order to socialize its few assets and eradicate poverty, Cuba didn’t need to exploit any other country. Mark went on to say that the Apostles checked that there were five loaves and two fishes. “And they sat down in groups, by hundreds and by fifties.” People organize themselves to solve their problems. Jesus took the loaves and the fishes, “looked up to heaven, and blessed, and broke the loaves” for his disciples to distribute. Throughout the Gospels, the distribution of bread symbolizes the Father’s kindness and the establishment of fraternity. Food is associated with life’s abundance; it appears in the marriage in Cana and the meeting of the resurrected with the disciples at Emmaus. “And they all ate, and were satisfied. And they took up 12 baskets full of broken pieces and of the fish.” If at the end, 12 baskets of pieces are left, how many extra baskets were there in the crowd? And what did they have? Now, wherever a crowd is gathered, salesmen come up with sandwiches, soft drinks, and candy. In Jesus’ time, food was carried in baskets. Moreover, five loaves plus two fish is equal to seven, and seven in the Bible means “many,” just as our number eight, on its side, symbolizes the infinite. Thus, it is said that our sins will be forgiven not only seven but 70-and-seven times. Therefore, there were many fish and many loaves. Does it mean there was no miracle? Miracle, yes; not magic. Magic would be the spectacular action of taking five loaves in one hand and two fish in the other, covering them with a cloth, saying “abracadabra” and showing a bakery on one side and a fish shop on the other. What is the miracle? It is God’s power to alter the natural course of things. That power acts mainly on the human heart. That day those who had goods shared them with those who had none; there was enough to satisfy everyone, and some was left over. At the same time, this account is the prefiguration of eschatological reserve. The 12 baskets with food are related to the 12 tribes of Israel, protagonists in God’s scheme in history, and the group of 12 Apostles, pillars of the church.

      The source of Jesus’ spirituality, of the force that impelled him to struggle determinedly for the scheme of life, was his intimacy with the Father, which was nurtured through prayer. The Gospels refer to Jesus’ prayers and transmitted his teachings in this regard. They teach us the Our Father and encourage prayers of petition and of praise. However, the texts speak of the great amount of time that Jesus spent praying. As I see it, this is one of the critical points of Christian spirituality in the West and of the superficiality of our faith. We don’t pray deeply. We ask, praise, and meditate, but that’s merely the threshold of the life of prayer. Only farther on can we attain the mystic vigor that inspired Jesus. During this learning period, the best thing is to refer to the experiences of the Christians who lived intensely in intimacy with God and described the route they took.

      St. Augustine said that God was more intimate for us than we were for ourselves. Thus, the deepest prayer is the one that springs from the silence of the senses and of the mind and swells the heart for the Spirit to manifest itself. St. Paul said, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words. And he who searches the hearts of men knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God” (Rom. 8:26–27). This letting the Spirit pray within us requires gratitude in the relation with God, as happens in the relations of a couple. We then attain moments of inner silence in which we experience that unutterable presence that fertilizes our faith. From thence springs Christian life rooted in theological experience. At that level, we go beyond Christian life as mere sociological conditioning, as a kind of ideology of faith that, in principle, is opposed to an ideology of atheism. We are all born atheists. As Vatican II says in Gaudium et Spes, atheism is also present in the lack of testimony of Christians. I don’t think it should cause us as much concern as the idolatry that exists in various expressions of faith that have nothing to do with the God heralded by and embodied in Jesus, as in the case of those who call on God in defense of capital, colonialism, social and racial discrimination, and repression against the workers. The dialogue between Christians and Marxists should be held not at the level of truths of faith but rather at the level of the practice of liberation, of the demands of justice, of selfless service to the life of the community. That is the level of love, the fundamental criterion of our realization and our salvation. St. Paul even says that though we have the faith to remove mountains, if we don’t have charity, it serves no purpose: we would be as a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal (I Cor. 13:1–13). In the practice of liberation, those who struggle in the name of God for the scheme of life will be separated from those who join the party of death. That practice brings together Christians and atheists who are committed to building a society of fraternity in which the bounty of life will be shared equally. However, the possible opening of those atheists to the call of faith will undoubtedly depend on the testimony and coherence of the Christians, so the gift of God, as a seed, may find tilled soil.

      There were few questions. One of the young people complained that the lecture hadn’t been well advertised. A man replied, saying that a lot of announcements had been made. Perhaps this approach to Christianity was unheard-of for an audience such as that one. The blockade that the United States imposed against Cuba also in a way isolated the Christians on the island. Many remained on imperialism’s side against the socialism and communism that were established and which proclaimed their atheism. Nevertheless, in recent years, new winds have been blowing in the Cuban church. In mobilizing all of its forces to review its pastoral practice and establish new lines in its evangelizing activity, the Cuban church is now experiencing a new Pentecost.

       MONDAY, MAY 20, 1985

      The island awoke and was startled by a new imperialist act of aggression: Radio Martí had just begun broadcasting on shortwave from the United States. The fact that an anti-Cuban radio station used the name of the most venerated national hero and inspiration for the revolution hurt the people’s feelings. For 14 hours every day, the radio station broadcasts news and commentary from the Voice of America, music and speeches hailing Reagan’s policy and attacking the Cuban government.

      The Cuban government reacted immediately. On the morning of that same day, Granma, the official organ of the Central Committee of the Communist Party, carried an article called “Information for the People” on its front page. Signed by the government, it announced that the agreement on migratory matters that had been signed by delegations from the two countries in New York on December 14 was thereby suspended, as were visits to Cuba by Cuban citizens living in the United States — “except those authorized for purely humanitarian reasons” — and that measures regarding the communications between the two countries would be adopted. These included a decision that “the government of Cuba reserves the right to transmit medium-wave radio broadcasts to the United States to make fully known the Cuban view on the problems concerning the United States and its international policy.”

      I wondered whether or not it would be possible to interview the man who once again was the center of attention because he has fearlessly confronted the US government’s acts of aggression. In any case, I stayed at home, waiting for his office to phone me. Nobody called, and the day dragged slowly by, weighing on the harsh agony of my silent anxiety. The graphic symbols in the books I tried to read failed to break through the blockade of imaginings that flooded my mind.

       TUESDAY, MAY 21, 1985

      At 10:30 p.m. the phone rang. It was the comandante’s office, telling me not to go out. At midnight, a small Alfa Romeo driven by a member of the Ministry of the Interior picked me up and took off like a jet, going first along Fifth Avenue and then along Paseo, as if it had been challenged to make all the traffic lights before they turned red.

      Fidel Castro welcomed me at his office. Jesús Montané Oropesa, a member of the Central Committee and one of Fidel’s oldest compañeros in the July 26 Movement’s struggle against the Batista dictatorship, was with him. A mild, almost sweet smell of cigars filled the room. I sat down in a leather armchair and, with a lump in my throat, heard