Journey to Cuba
During the fall of 2015, The Record dispatched columnist Mike Kelly to Cuba with a three-part assignment. First, Kelly was to cover the visit to the communist nation by Pope Francis. Second, Kelly was to examine how the island’s people were adjusting to the renewal of diplomatic relations between the U.S. and the Cuba’s totalitarian regime. Third – and perhaps the most complicated and politically difficult part of the trip -- Kelly tracked down several American fugitives who had been granted asylum Cuban authorities. These included Joanne Chesimard, a Black Liberation Army operative who was convicted of murdering a N.J. State Trooper, and Guillermo “Willie” Morales, a Puerto Rican nationalist who is believed to have built the bomb that blew up Fraunces Tavern in New York City and killed a bank executive from Fair Lawn, N.J. What follows are 10 columns by Kelly.
Pope's Visit Raises Curtain on Cuba
September 18, 2015
Change Coming, but Pain Persists
HAVANA -- Inside a small house where a 1952 Ford Mainline sedan sits in the back yard under a mango tree and the morning blanket of humidity stifles any hint of a breeze, a woman sits in her tiny living room staring at a photo of a brother she lost to the revolution.
Maria Elena Cabo Alum is 70 now. Angel Cabo is 73. Fidel Castro's communist revolution, which swept Cuba more than half a century ago, did not kill Angel in a physical way. He says it gradually smothered his creative spirit.
So six years ago, he left - for New Jersey.
"There he is," Maria Elena said Thursday as Angel stared back at her from the pages of a photo album -- frozen in time as a young man in some snapshots, weathered by the years in others. "I miss him."
The revolution that broke up the Cabo family and so many others may now be undergoing what some observers believe is its most profound identity crisis in years.
Despite a series of reforms in recent years -- the sale of homes and cars is now allowed, for instance, and some travel restrictions have been lifted -- concerns persist that the single-party Castro government continues to treat dissidents too harshly while also moving too slowly to embrace other democratic and economic changes.
That debate will likely come into greater focus in the coming days as Pope Francis, the spiritual leader of the world's 1.5 billion Roman Catholics, arrives in Cuba on what billboards here are proclaiming a "Missionera de la Misericordia" -- a Mission of Mercy -- before continuing on to the United States.
It is not the first visit to Cuba by a pontiff. But it is the first by a Latin American pope who has shown no reluctance to speak forthrightly about human rights and the need for governments to treat people with dignity.
Francis has been credited by U.S. and Cuban officials with encouraging the secret talks that led to the resumption of formal diplomatic ties this summer. But experts say one of the issues the pope may address, either in Cuba or in talks with American officials, is the harsh impact on Cuban life of the U.S. economic embargo, which remains in place after more than a half century and has left Cuba struggling to import medicine, food and construction materials.
The revolution, the embargo and other issues are seen through the eyes of ordinary Cubans as a far more nuanced story - a tale of families like the Cabos, with some members who left home because they felt constrained by communism and others who stayed behind.
It's an often painful story -- one that is earnestly discussed and debated in the cafes and homes of Hudson County's Cuban community and in remarkably similar settings here in Cuba's capital city. On its most basic level, it is a story of what was taken away to a new homeland and what remained in the old.
Two perspectives
Angel Cabo, a lifelong pianist, was forced to pound the keys of a piano in a theater orchestra on the outskirts of this city, which still takes immense pride in its musical history.
Even when most of his friends were retiring, Angel said he needed more freedom to choose the songs he wanted to play.
He believed New Jersey offered him a chance to escape the stifling dictums of the Castro government. He also wanted to teach. So six years ago, when he was in his late 60s, he moved to Guttenberg, where today he is a successful piano instructor with a loyal following.
Maria Elena Cabo Alum stayed behind in Cuba -- but with no regrets, she says.
Her family - the husband she married 51 years ago, along with her son and daughter and their children -- received free health care and free education through college, courtesy of the government.
"We'll die as revolutionaries," said Maria Elena's husband, Humberto, 70. "The revolution gave us the right to get my education."
In a recent interview at his home in Guttenberg, Angel Cabo shared a far different view of that revolution.
"I lived more than 50 years under communism," he said. "I worked a lot, but I could never buy a car. I had to walk long distances to have money to buy hot dogs or some chicken for my family. Now that's over. I'm an American citizen."
In Cuba, Maria Elena acknowledged a degree of sadness as she heard about the pride her brother has in his new life and citizenship.
"What is awaiting our children?" she asked, as she reflected on her own future in Cuba. "We can't allow our children to grow up in a society where they all move to other countries. It's like we're in a drought here."
Aging population
This sense of loss and how it has caused millions of Cubans to leave may evolve over the coming decades into a profound social and economic problem in Cuba.
Benito Esquenazi, who left Cuba as a young boy in 1966 and now lives in Teaneck, said he still speaks to relatives in his homeland. But in recent years, he has found that many voice the same hope - to move somewhere else.
"Everybody that I talked to there was looking to leave," said Esquenazi, 54 and a vice president at a Manhattan financial services firm.
President Raul Castro, who replaced his older brother, Fidel, as the nation's leader eight years ago, publicly expressed concern several years ago that Cuba's population is rapidly aging, in part because so many younger Cubans are emigrating to the United States, Latin America and Europe. By 2020, Cuban social scientists predict, the retirements of older citizens will outpace the entrance of younger people into the country's workforce.
Whether such demographic and migration patterns will force major changes in Cuba's politics and economy is still an open question.
"The Cuban government is in kind of a holding pattern," said Ted Henken, a professor of Latino studies at Baruch College and co-author of the recent book "Entrepreneurial Cuba." "Just as U.S. policy on Cuba has been frozen in time, life in Cuba, in terms of real change, has been frozen in time."
Back at the Alum home in the Boyeros district in southwestern Havana, Maria Elena opened an envelope on Thursday and silently read a recent letter from Angel as a fan hummed in an adjoining room. Looking up, she said she understood why her brother left -- and that, in some ways, she agreed with his decision even if she has never seriously contemplated leaving Cuba.
"My brother left to make a better life," she said. "I didn't go through the trouble he went through."
As for her homeland, she is hopeful.
"I think change will come," she said. "But it will take a little while."
Photo: Maria Elena Cabo Alum, in her Havana living room, showing old photographs of herself and her brother, Angel Cabo, as children. She said his spirit was crushed by the revolution. "I miss him," she said. (Photo by Hannah Berkeley Cohen)
Photo: Angel, with his wife, Martha, left Cuba six years ago. He is now an American citizen living in Guttenberg. (Photo by Carmine Galasso)
The Revolution Gap
September 19, 2015
Cuba's Younger Generation Ready to Move On
HAVANA -- The old revolutionary moves slowly now, much like the revolution he fought so hard to win.
Almost six decades ago, Luis Alberto Clerge Fabra fought side by side with Fidel Castro, Raul Castro, Ché Guevara and other Cuban revolutionaries to turn his island homeland into what they believed could be a communist model of social and economic reform.
Fabra's loyalty later earned him an officer's commission in the Cuban army, diplomatic posts in Japan, the Netherlands and Czechoslovakia and a job as a history professor at the University of Havana.
But he's 79 -- no longer the young man in his 20s who went by the nom de guerre of "Pomponio" and hid with Castro and Guevara in the Sierra Maestra Mountains before storming into Havana on New Year's Day 1959 and seizing power from Cuban strongman Fulgencio Batista.
Now, with Cuba struggling to lift itself out of decades of economic morass, Fabra finds himself wondering about another struggle that he sees on the horizon -- to convince Cuba's youth that the revolution he fought so hard for was not a mistake.
"It's hard for young people to identify with the revolution," Fabra said. "It's like a mystical thing. What I'm seeing is kids with music, with iPods."
Such is the quiet battle now being fought in the hearts and minds of Cubans as this nation prepares for a four-day visit from Pope Francis, which begins today and precedes stops in New York, Washington, D.C., and Philadelphia.
At the heart of this battle -- and the concurrent hope expressed by many for the pope to call for greater freedom for this nation's burgeoning dissident movement -- is the deeper question of whether Cuba's communist revolution is still relevant in the 21st century.
On its most basic level, this debate has divided generations. Older Cubans still cling to the memory of a communist uprising that transformed their lives. But their children and grandchildren wonder why that revolutionary spirit has left many of them mired in low-wage jobs and unable to buy homes.
Several miles from Fabra's two-story, stucco home in Havana's Miramar section, 17-year-old Ronald Menendez showed up for work one day recently at a gift shop on 23rd Street in a white T-shirt emblazoned with a photograph of the curly, bearded Cuban revolutionary Che Guevara.
Menendez hardly considers himself a revolutionary -- or even a die-hard communist. The gift shop he runs is an example of how the government, now led by Fidel Castro's younger brother, Raúl, allows Cubans to open small businesses in private homes.
Menendez pays $3 a day to rent a postage stamp-sized patio and closet-sized room where he sells refrigerator magnets and greeting cards.
"I respect what Che Guevara and the Castros did," Menendez said. "But it's more of my grandparents' generation that was affected. Not me so much."
Instead, Menendez now wants a technological revolution in Cuba, starting with more access to the Internet.
"I want to be able to communicate with my friends who have left Cuba for other countries," he said.
Around the corner from Menendez's gift shop, Jacqueline Morejon Martinez, 53, operates a café on the patio outside her apartment and shares many of the same concerns about how Cuba needs to have renewed revolutionary spirit that includes more economic and political reform.
"I travel outside Cuba, but when I come back to Cuba, I feel like we are stuck in time," she said.
That sense that the rest of the world is embracing more democratic and economic reforms while Cuba persists in preserving its communist heritage of control over a wide swath of ordinary life has become a major source of discontent for increasing numbers of young Cubans.
"In Cuba, for every one or two steps forward, there are five steps backward," said John Kavulich, an economist at the U.S.-Cuba Trade and Economic Council, which is based in New York City.
For some, Cuba is not changing fast enough, especially in responding to demands for greater democratic reforms. To others, however, the revolutionary spirit of Fidel Castro is still inspiring.
On a recent afternoon, Damian Swarez, 32, of Edison stopped by Martinez's café for lunch after a shift at a nearby hospital where he is finishing up his medical training to become a physician.
Seven years ago, Swarez graduated from Rutgers University and applied to study medicine in Cuba, in part because he admired the country's policy of free and universal health care and education -- a much-touted achievement of Castro's revolution.
After graduating from Havana's Latin American School of Medicine, Swarez said, he plans to return to New Jersey -- but not to a high-paying physician's practice. He said Cuba's revolutionary spirit has inspired him to work as a family physician in New Jersey's poorest neighborhoods.
"Perhaps Paterson or Newark," he said.
The idealism that Swarez embodies -- as an American, no less -- is what some observers say is disappearing from Cuba's youth.
"To most people under 40, Fidel is just a historical figure," said Mario Gonzalez-Corzo, a Cuban-born economist at New York City's Lehman College who also teaches at Rutgers and Columbia universities.
Gonzalez-Corzo, who lives in Cliffside Park, said he believes that Cuba has evolved into a "transitional state, not just in the economy but in terms of cultural values.
"Needless to say," he added, "it doesn't imply greater political openness."
Here, in Havana, many Cubans speak openly of their hope that Pope Francis will draw attention during his public appearances to Cuba's slowness in allowing democratic reforms. But the pope has not indicated one way or the other whether he will comment about Cuba's politics during his trip, which has been officially described by the Vatican as a "mission of mercy."
Francis' official schedule for his four-day visit to Cuba does not include any time for meetings with political dissidents. However, the Vatican has announced that he plans to meet with several hundred students on Sunday evening after he celebrates Mass at Havana's Plaza de la Revolution.
"I don't plan to talk about religion," said Laura Alvarez, 19, who is studying finance at the University of Havana and was invited to the pope's meeting. "I want him to bring change and more freedom politically."
Grisel Penalver, also 19 and a finance student with Alvarez at the university, said she too plans to attend the pope's meeting.
"The Cuban revolution has brought success to us," said Penalver. "But it also has its faults. One of my hopes is that those high up in power listen to us."
Back in his home on the other side of Havana, Luis Alberto Clerge Fabra, the old revolutionary, said he doesn't plan to attend the pope's Mass in Revolution Square.
"I'll watch it on TV," he said.
As for Cuba's youth, he said he fears that far too many will go to Revolution Square without any sense of the sacrifice he and his revolutionary compatriots made.
"You see these kids," he said, "and they're thinking about other things."
Photo: Ronald Menendez, 17, wearing a Ché Guevara T-shirt as he sold magnets and cards in Havana. "I respect what Ché Guevara and the Castros did," he said. "But it's more of my grandparents' generation that was affected. Not me so much." (Photo by Hannah Berkeley Cohen, special to the Record)
Photo: Jacqueline Morejon Martinez, 53, operates Cafeteria Doña Laura on the patio outside her apartment in Havana. "I travel outside Cuba, but when I come back to Cuba, I feel like we are stuck in time," she said. (Photo by Hannah Berkeley Cohen, special to The Record)
Photo: Damian Swarez graduated from Rutgers, then studied medicine in Cuba because he admires its universal health care. He said he plans to return to be a family physician in one of New Jersey's poorest neighborhoods. "Perhaps Paterson or Newark," he said. (Photo by Hannah Berkeley Cohen, special to The Record)
An Inspiration of Faith, Even Among the Communists
September 20, 2015
HAVANA -- The ladies who tell fortunes by the waterfront look to Pope Francis for inspiration. So does the despondent father who argues his son was wrongly imprisoned as a political dissident.
The pope's arrival Saturday was greeted with ample measures of hope, pride and expectation from what seemed to be just about every corner of life in this city.
Even the guy from the Cuban Ministry of Propaganda, who supervised the hanging of a giant banner of Jesus on a building overlooking the Plaza de la Revolución where Francis will preside at Mass today, conceded that he is a big fan.
"The pope's visit represents a lot of love and heart," said the official, Ramon Fernandez, as he took a break from inspecting the plaza where workers labored under a searing sun to set up water stations, fences and medical tents for today's Mass and an expected crowd that could reach hundreds of thousands.
"I'm not Catholic, I'm a Communist," said Fernandez, who added that he would nevertheless try to receive Communion at today's Mass. "I respect the religion and I carry it in my heart and I may become a Catholic at any moment. I love peace and love."
For days in anticipation of the pope's visit, workers have been draping light posts along Havana's streets with Cuban and Vatican flags, erecting billboards with Francis' picture and trimming the grass along roads and highways -- often with machetes instead of lawn mowers.
After two days in Havana, Francis heads to Santiago de Cuba and Holquin before leaving for the United States on Tuesday.
His eight-day trek across the two nations, which includes stops in Washington, D.C., New York City and Philadelphia will be a wide-ranging journey with the outdoor Mass today at Havana's Plaza de la Revolución and visits to Congress, the White House, the United Nations, the National September 11 Memorial & Museum before a final Mass not far from Philadelphia's Independence Hall, where the Declaration of Independence was signed.
What is already apparent in this tropical city, however, is that Francis will likely have no trouble winning over Cuba's people -- including many of its leaders who once banned religious worship and closed churches and synagogues.
New era at hand
Greeting the pontiff after his plane landed just before 4 p.m. at Havana's Jose Marti International Airport, Cuban President Raúl Castro pledged that his nation would "welcome you with profound affection, respect and hospitality."
Castro, who took over power in Cuba in 2008 after his older brother, Fidel, resigned because of ill health, also praised the pontiff for meeting with him in May at the Vatican "to exchange ideas on some of the most important issues related to the world we live in."
The pope has been widely credited by Castro and President Obama as the key player in the negotiations that led to this summer's decision by the U.S. and Cuba to end their half-century of antagonism and to reestablish diplomatic relations.
In his own remarks at the airport Saturday, the pope seemed to sense that his trip was framed not just by usual religious trappings of papal excursions -- he will formally canonize a saint in Washington, for example -- but also in potentially dramatic political moments.
After Francis' chartered Alitalia jetliner touched down, the pope sent a clear signal that he viewed his journey as a significant step in what many here hope will be a new era of friendship with Cuba's former enemy, the United States.
The pope did not specifically mention the U.S. economic embargo against Cuba -- a major issue for Cubans who blame their economic woes on the lack of trade with the U.S. But many hope that the pope will bring up the issue with Cuban officials and later in the United States.
"For some months now, we have witnessed an event which fills us with hope: the process of normalizing relations between two peoples following years of estrangement," said Francis of the new ties between the U.S. and Cuba after a half-century freeze.
"It is a sign of the victory of the culture of encounter and dialogue," the pope said.
The pope left little doubt that he viewed Cuba and its leaders as playing a key role in establishing peace relations with the U.S.
Francis urged "political leaders to persevere on this path and to develop all its potentialities as a proof of the high service which they are called to carry out on behalf of the peace and well-being of their peoples, of all America, and, as an example of reconciliation, for the entire world."
He also made it clear that he believes the significance of such a reconciliation would reverberate beyond the island nation.
"Geographically, Cuba is an archipelago, facing all directions, with an extraordinary value as a key between north and south, east and west," Francis said in his airport statement. "Its natural vocation is to be a point of encounter for all peoples to join in friendship, as Jose Marti dreamed, 'regardless of the languages of isthmuses and the barriers of oceans.' "
After leaving the airport, the pope was driven into Havana in an open white vehicle along a 10-mile route as large crowds cheered and some shouted: "Francis! Brother, now you are a Cuban!"
Jesus and Ché
Today's Mass will take place in the Plaza de la Revolución, where Fidel Castro regularly regaled crowds during his half-century reign with criticism of the United States as he urged his nation to remain loyal to communism. Cuban authorities have hung the giant banner of Jesus Christ from the national library, which overlooks the plaza. The banner carries the message: "Vengan a mi" -- "Come to me."
The banner faces a permanent drawing, several hundred yards away on another plaza building, of Cuban revolutionary, Ché Guevara. From the altar erected at the east end of the square, the pope will be able to see both images.
Besides Raúl Castro, the Cuban delegation that greeted Francis at the airport included a group of children who presented the pope with flowers and hugged him.
The pope seemed deeply touched and paused for several minutes to talk to the children, touching each of them on the forehead with a blessing before walking away to deliver his formal remarks, which included a request to Raúl Castro "to convey my sentiments of particular respect and consideration to your brother, Fidel."
Here, in Havana, when ordinary people speak about the Castro regime and the pope's visit, many express hope that Francis will persuade Raúl Castro to do much more than pass on messages to his brother. They want him to enact clear economic reforms, free political dissidents and ease government restrictions on protest marches.
The Vatican confirmed that Francis planned to meet privately with Raúl Castro, but did not say whether the two would discuss economic or political reforms.
Later, in a news conference, Vatican spokesman Monsignor Federico Lombardi said the pope may also pay a visit to Fidel Castro but that such a meeting has not yet been confirmed. "It is possible that this happens," Lombardi said, adding that if the meeting does occur it would be today in Havana.
Dissident's pain
In his cramped apartment not far from the Plaza de la Revolución, Raúl Borges Alvarez, the leader of Cuba's Democratic Christian Unity Party and one of Cuba's most vocal dissidents said he hoped the pope's visit will result in the release of his son Ernesto Borges Perez, who was imprisoned 17 years ago on charges of spying for the United States.
Borges Alvarez, 75, contends that his 49-year-old son is really a political prisoner, who was falsely accused of spying as a way to hinder his dissident views.
"The pope is the one who can ultimately decide my son's fate," said Borges Alvarez. "The pope has to claim that it is within his power to do this."
Such sentiments underscore the pressure Francis faces as he begins his visit to Cuba and then on to the United States, where a wide variety of other activists -- from women to gay-rights groups and those representing divorced Catholics -- are all hoping the pope will ease church restrictions against them.
In recent years, Cuba's nascent dissident movement has grown -- but at a cost. In a report issued several weeks ago and clearly timed for the pope's visit, Cuba's Human Rights and National Reconciliation Commission, one of the nation's most outspoken dissident organizations, said it had documented "at least 768 arbitrary arrests of dissidents" just during August -- the highest monthly total in 10 years.
"We see a worsening of the situation of civil and political rights in Cuba," said the leader of the commission, Elizardo Sanchez, who called his nation's human-rights record "the worst in the Western Hemisphere."
"It is becoming increasingly apparent that there is increased police violence against women and men who suffer all kinds of physical abuse, harassment and threats," Sanchez said.
An inspiring voice
For Cubans, the mere presence of a pope, who has shown little fear during his two-year papacy of addressing such social issues as the plight of the poor and economic inequality, may inspire even more outspokenness.
"What you will see are broader boundaries for the loyal opposition," said William LeoGrande, a Cuba expert and dean of the American University School of Public Affairs in Washington, D.C. "The church has really led the way in this."
How this will ultimately affect the behavior of ordinary Cubans is still a bit of a mystery here.
Along the waterfront, in Havana's Regla neighborhood, Maria Antonia Diaz, 62, a retired auditor who now spends her days practicing Santeria religious ceremonies on the sidewalk outside a Catholic Church and reading the palms of passers-by, described Francis as a unifier, not someone who will divide her country.
"This trip is fundamental for Cuba," she said. "This is a victory for unity."
On the other side of the city, Ernesto Salavarra, 42, donned a Mets cap to shield his face from the searing sun and took a walk near the Plaza de la Revolución so he could scout a spot for today's Mass.
As he was about to head home, he stopped to look at the banner bearing the image of Jesus.
"I expect the pope to give a message of peace and love to the people," Salavarra said. "His visit is a good thing for us. It means support and strength."
Photo: Revolution Square in Havana, set up for today's Mass to be celebrated by Pope Francis. (Photo by HANNAH BERKELEY COHEN/SPECIAL TO THE RECORD
Photo: Pope Francis waving to crowds from the popemobile on his way from the airport to Havana on Saturday. (Associated Press)
It's No Accident That Pope Will Enter U.S. From Cuba
September 20, 2015
HAVANA
FROM THE SIDE of a building overlooking the Plaza de la Revolución at the epicenter of this city, a four-story drawing of Cuban revolutionary and avowed atheist Ernesto "Ché" Guevara looks down on the passersby. In recent days, on another building overlooking the plaza, Cuban authorities hung a four-story drawing of another revolutionary -- Jesus Christ.
Two competing messages in a city brimming with expectation for change. But today, those expectations will rise markedly.
With perhaps as many as a million Cubans expected to jam into the sprawling plaza that embodies the revolutionary spirit of Cuba, Pope Francis will stand in the middle of these competing images of Ché and Jesus to offer his own message.
A papal visit to any corner of the world is often framed by metaphor and meaning. But this week's journey by Pope Francis, first to Cuba and then to the United States, has taken on a meaning of its own.
The pope is scheduled to preside today at an outdoor Mass at the plaza, then fly to two other Cuban cities, Holguín and Santiago de Cuba, before heading to Washington, New York and Philadelphia. His schedule - and this is an understatement - is grueling. On Friday, his only full day in New York, he is slated to speak at the United Nations and at an interfaith service at Ground Zero, visit a school in Harlem, ride through Central Park and -- as if that is not enough -- preside at a Mass at Madison Square Garden in the evening. That kind of schedule rivals the hectic pace of the mythic sailors on leave in the Broadway musical "On the Town."
But beginning his trip in Cuba is no accident. Church observers say Francis, who has attracted worldwide praise for his continued focus on healing, mercy and care for the downtrodden, chose to stop in Cuba before coming to the U.S. in part to draw attention to the need for these two competing nations to drop their half-century of hostility and make peace. It was, after all, Pope Francis who secretly pushed the U.S. and Cuba to open negotiations.
Those talks bore fruit last December when President Obama and Cuban President Raúl Castro announced their nations would resume diplomatic ties. But as we have seen in the last nine months with intense congressional opposition to the new Cuban-Amercan ties, that journey is hardly smooth. As with the Plaza de la Revolución itself in Havana, there are many competing messages.
Here in Havana, where ordinary people speak openly of how much they want to kindle renewed friendships with America, the impact of the U.S. economic embargo is still on full display in stores with empty shelves and hotels that do not take American credit cards. "Yes, having the pope here is fantastic," said Mayro Molina Alfonso, who drives a lime green 1951 Chevrolet among the tourist hotels in Old Havana. "But we need help for our economy."
That kind of sentiment seems to call for more than prayers and polite language. The same is true with the new connection between Cuba and the United States.
Where the pope can find a balm to heal this highly politicized and mutually suspicious relationship and what sort of message he might deliver today and in his coming appearances in Cuba and the United States is still an open question. But as the world has seen - and sometimes marveled or expressed contempt at - Francis is hardly subtle in delivering his messages.
There was, of course, his much-quoted response when asked whether he would condemn gay people: "Who am I to judge?" But there have been other, far more nuanced messages, too.
Early in his papacy, Francis announced that he would "prefer a church that is bruised, hurting and dirty because it has been out on the streets, rather than a church which is unhealthy from being confined and from clinging to its own security."
Later, he said that "we need to get to know each other, listen to each other and improve our knowledge of the world around us."
Later still, he had this to say about the more than 1 billion Roman Catholics across the world: "The thing the church needs most today is the ability to heal wounds and to warm the hearts of the faithful. Then we can talk about everything else. Heal the wounds."
So what can we expect from the pope this week, an Argentine and the first pontiff from a Latin American nation?
The Rev. Matt Malone, the Jesuit priest who edits the Catholic magazine America, which has sometimes run afoul of Vatican conservatives with its progressive tone, says the pope has already delivered an important message. The pope's first stop on his first visit to the United States is to Cuba.
"This is a pope who thinks in symbols and says God speaks to us in words and gestures," Malone said in an interview. "It is a significant in his mind that he's entering through Latin America."
In Malone's view, this Latin American entry point has a political dimension in that it underscores the importance of the agreement by the U.S. and Cuba to make peace with each other. But in a broader way, the Latin American connection to the pope's trip also may contain a profound moral message, too.
Here in Cuba, one of the most understated complaints among ordinary Cubans is the contempt for human rights that is displayed on an almost daily basis by the Castro regime. In watching the pope today as he speaks in the Plaza de la Revolución and in later sermons in Cuba, it will be important to pay attention to whether he addresses the issue of human rights.
He could speak in a subtle voice and talk in general terms about the need for democracy for Cuba's 11 million people after more than a half-century of communist dictatorship. Or he could speak directly about the need for Cuba to allow greater freedom by dissidents, including the "Ladies in White" who often march through Havana on Sundays.
Indeed, how boldly the pope speaks in Cuba may have a bearing and set a tone for what he says in the U.S.
And if the pope criticizes Cuba, you can expect him to criticize the United States for its economic embargo of Cuba, which has prevented the island nation from being able to buy food, medicine and gain banking credit to finance repairs to its much neglected infrastructure. This is, after all, a pope who has a unique way of balancing his messages.
For the U.S., the pope's Latin American links will likely influence anything he has to say about immigration and the highly politicized battle over the status of America's undocumented migrants. Will the pope, for example, call for greater tolerance and mercy - a message he has plainly delivered in recent weeks as Europe struggled with an influx of Middle Eastern asylum seekers? If so, how will some Republican presidential candidates - notably Donald Trump - react? What the pope says about this issue - and, in particular, how he says it - could have great importance in America's current political dialogue.
Finally, there is the pope's most consistent message - to be merciful.
It almost seems overly broad and perhaps framed by the sort of love-everyone, kumbaya feelings that are often dismissed by hardcore political operatives. But this pope is different. When he speaks about offering mercy and forgiveness - and, in particular, the words he chooses - his message seems to resonate, not just among Catholics, but across the diverse spiritual and political realm. A prime example is his "Who am I to judge?" message about gay people. But there have been others.
In New York, will he have a message of mercy for radical Islam during his interfaith prayer service at the National September 11 Memorial and Museum? Or will he offer more strident guidance about the use of Islam to justify murder of innocents in Syria and other contentious places?
In Philadelphia, when Francis speaks to a family conference, will he offer a new message of mercy for divorced couples? What about gay couples who choose to marry? What about transgender people?
Those are only a few issues he may address. There may be others that will surprise us - or perhaps disappoint.
But the first stop and message from Francis will come from a wooden altar at the western end of Havana's Plaza de La Revolución. If Francis looks to his left, he will see the face of Ché Guevara. If he looks right, there is Jesus Christ.
It's the perfect setting for a man who sees life's symbols as guideposts.
Photo: Workers unloading a statue of Jesus in Havana's Plaza de la Revolución last week in front of the iconic depiction of Cuban revolutionary Ernesto "Ché" Guevara on the facade of the Interior Ministry. (Associated Press)
Francis Shows Political Savvy
September 21, 2015
Delivers a Message of Peace and Reconciliation
HAVANA -- For someone who has spent most of his adult life thinking about God and heaven, Pope Francis showed on Sunday that he has a decidedly earthly knack for old-fashioned street-level politics.
The papal civics lesson started almost 45 minutes before Francis presided at a morning Mass in this city's Plaza de la Revolución, the epicenter of Cuban politics.
As worshipers walked to the plaza in the early morning humidity, many trying to cool themselves with cardboard fans bearing a photo of the pope, Francis suddenly appeared.
Clad in his iconic white cassock and sitting next to a driver in a white, open-sided vehicle known as the popemobile, the pontiff passed through the crowd smiling, shaking hands with surprised worshipers, slapping high-fives and kissing babies.
It was the beginning of a poignant day, framed by symbolic gestures in this tropical city and featuring an unannounced meeting by Francis with Cuba's ailing former Communist dictator, Fidel Castro, an appeal to Cuba's leadership to serve people instead of ideology and another plea to end South America's longest guerrilla war, between Colombia's armed forces and that nation's Communist insurgents.
"Please," the pope said of the Colombian conflict in remarks at the end of Mass. "We do not have the right to allow ourselves yet another failure on this path of peace and reconciliation."
As if that weren't enough, the day also included a Vatican-backed request by Havana's Roman Catholic cardinal, Jamie Ortega, for his nation's leaders to reconcile with America's large Cuban community, many of whom live in North Jersey, having fled their country to escape the economic and political shackles of communism.
"I got goose bumps when I saw him," said Zenaida Cantero, 53, a computer assembly worker from Havana, who arrived early for the Mass and rushed to greet the pontiff as his popemobile passed. "It's a blessing to the Cuban people that he is here."
After leaving Havana early this morning, the pope is scheduled to visit two other Cuban cities, Holguin and Santiago de Cuba, before departing Tuesday for the United States and what is likely to be another series of politically significant moments. These include speeches before Congress and the United Nations General Assembly, a private meeting with President Obama, an interfaith service at the National September 11 Memorial and Museum and a final Mass in Philadelphia, where some Catholics plan to advocate for a loosening of church doctrine on women and gay people.
Starting in Havana and with Sunday's large Mass on the first full day of his Cuba-U.S. trip, the pontiff seemed intent on setting a tone that combined political symbols with subtle touches of theology. In one gesture in Sunday's Mass at the plaza, the pope described Cuba as home to "a people which has its wounds" yet "knows how to stand up with open arms, to keep walking in hope because it has a vocation of grandeur."
After the 90-minute Mass, the pope met with Fidel Castro, the 89-year-old former Cuban leader who suffers from Parkinson's disease and is rarely seen in public.
In a press conference afterward, Vatican spokesman Monsignor Federico Lombardi said Pope Francis had exchanged several gifts with Castro in a half-hour meeting at the former Cuban leader's home.
The pope gave Castro a book written by a Jesuit priest who had taught him at the Catholic school he attended as a child. Castro, in turn, handed the pope a collection of his own conversations about religion with the Rev. Frei Betto, Catholic Dominican priest and liberation theologian from Brazil.
In his 12-minute sermon halfway through Mass at the Plaza, the pope focused on a theme of service and, in particular, a lesson from St. Mark's Gospel that the greatest leaders should be servants to others.
"Serving others chiefly means caring for their vulnerability, caring for the vulnerable of our families, our society, our people," the pope said from a makeshift altar that included a statue of Jesus with his arms outstretched.
He warned the crowd to "not be tempted" by "a service which is self-serving." And in what appeared to be a message to political leaders, in Cuba and elsewhere, he added: "Service is never ideological, for we do not serve ideas. We serve people."
As the pope spoke, the morning sun peeked over the Cuban national library, which was draped with a banner depicting Jesus Christ and the message, "Vengan a mi" -- "Come to me." On a building across the plaza was another image -- Cuban revolutionary and atheist Ernesto "Che" Guevara.
Hours before the pope arrived, crowds flocked to the plaza, which sits atop a hill in Havana and is dominated by a memorial to Cuba's 19th-century independence leader José Martí. Many waved Cuban and Vatican flags during the Mass or opened umbrellas to shield themselves from the intense sun.
Cardinal Sean O'Malley, the archbishop of Boston, and Cardinal Theodore McCarrick, archbishop emeritus of Washington and former archbishop of Newark, joined Pope Francis on the altar, along with Cardinal Peter Turkson of Ghana, who was a key papal adviser for the pope's recent encyclical on the environment.
Also attending the Mass were Cuban President Raúl Castro and Argentine President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner.
Before the Mass ended, the pope delivered another political message. Referring to the new ties between the United States and Cuba, the pope said, "We cannot permit ourselves to fail in this path to peace and reconciliation."
The pope's style already seems to have had an impact on Cuban leaders.
The official Cuban state-run website has changed its home page logo and Twitter account in honor of Pope Francis' visit. The standard logo of red and black semicircles and white arrows was replaced by a drawing of the papal hat, known as the mitre, emblazoned with a cross. The new logo was accompanied by a message in Spanish, "Welcome to Cuba," which replaced the website's usual tag line, "Against Media Terrorism."
Later, on Sunday afternoon, in what many considered another example of the pope's political savvy, Francis held a private meeting with Raúl Castro. A video showed the two leaders, sitting knee-to-knee in chairs and talking quietly without any aides nearby.
Cid Wilson, a former resident of Teaneck and Leonia who now runs the Washington-based Hispanic Association on Corporate Responsibility and came to Havana for the pope's visit, praised Francis' ability to mix politics and spirituality.
"Pope Francis is the most game-changing pope I've ever seen," Wilson said, adding that the pope's Latino background was especially important in helping to broker this summer's historic peace deal between the United States and Cuba.
"Sometimes language can make a huge difference," Wilson said.
For others, however, the pope's trip was not just about politics. It was also aimed at bolstering Cuba's Roman Catholic Church, which had been banned for several decades after Fidel Castro seized power in 1959 and established a communist dictatorship.
Newark's Auxiliary Bishop Manuel Cruz, who was born in Cuba but left in the 1960s as a young boy after the Castro regime shut Catholic churches and schools, said he hoped the pope's visit would revive the Cuban church.
Cruz did not accompany Francis on his Cuban trip. But in an interview beforehand, he called the pope a "good shepherd" who has a "shepherd's heart."
On Sunday, Francis' shepherding skills -- political and religious -- were on full display. In the middle of the crowd, Emilia Cruz, a 41-year-old teacher in Havana who is no relation to Newark's auxiliary bishop, marveled at the pope's style. "I'm not very religious," she said. "But this is a very symbolic event."
At the center of that event is a man who seems to understand how symbols resonate.
Photo: Pope Francis greeting the crowd before celebrating Mass on Sunday in Havana's Plaza de la Revolución. He is the third pope to celebrate Mass in the plaza.
Photo : Crowds beginning to form at the Plaza de la Revolución in Havana, awaiting Pope Francis' Mass on Sunday. Cuba is the first stop on a journey that will take him to Washington, New York City and Philadelphia. (Photos by Hannah Berkeley Cohen, special to The Record)
Pope's Visit to Cuba Raises Economic Hopes
September 23, 2015
Many Dream He'll Spark Creation of Higher-Paying Jobs
HAVANA - Yuri Gallardo has a dream to get his old job back but with a much bigger salary. He sees Pope Francis as his dream maker.
Gallardo, 34, quit his government accounting job several years ago to chauffeur tourists to this city's museums, cafés and other hot spots in his pink-and-white convertible 1953 Ford Victoria. His accountant's salary of $20 a month - the standard for entry-level Cuban government workers - just wasn't enough to pay the bills. On good days now, he earns $20 for a 20-minute ride.
But Gallardo yearns to leave the driver's seat of his 62-year-old car to return to an accountant's desk -- and he sees Francis' visit to Cuba as providing the economic spark that could help create the kind of high-paying accounting jobs he covets.
"Papa Francisco will bring new changes," Gallardo said Tuesday, as the pope departed Cuba after a four-day visit and flew to the United States, where he plans to stop in Washington, New York and Philadelphia.
"Those changes," Gallardo added, "will begin with the economy."
Papal visits are watershed events -- ones in which people from all sorts of backgrounds and religious denominations invest their hopes and dreams, perhaps setting themselves up for disappointment. Francis' visit to Cuba was no exception.
During stops in Havana, Santiago de Cuba and Holguin, Francis did not specifically mention the need to improve Cuba's economy. And even though he sermonized at three major Masses and presided at several prayer services and meetings with clergy, young people and families, the pope never specifically mentioned this island's economic plight, fed by stagnant wages and a lack of investment.
But Cubans from all walks of life nevertheless saw the pope's visits as a something of a holy economic lifeline.
At Havana's Plaza of the Revolution, where Francis presided at an outdoor Mass on Sunday that drew several hundred thousand worshipers, a 70-by-50-foot banner bearing an image of Jesus Christ and the message "Vengan a mi" -- "Come to me" -- still hung from the side of the national library on Tuesday afternoon.
Cubans did not talk so much about the spiritual aspects of Francis' sermons or even the official theme of his trip as a "Misionera de la Misericordia" -- a Mission of Mercy. Instead, they invariably spoke of how much they hoped the papal visit would raise their standard of living.
In interviews during the papal trip, they openly hoped the pope would take a clear stand against the U.S. economic embargo, which they blame for many of Cuba's financial woes. But now that the pope has departed without making any specific statement about the 54-year-old embargo and offering only vague encouragement for Cuba to "persevere" toward improved relations with the United States after "years of estrangement," some Cubans say they have been left to wonder what might happen next.
Across from the El Floridita bar in Old Havana, where Ernest Hemingway occasionally dropped in for a drink, Angel Martinez turned his palms heavenward as he thought of what Francis could do for his nation.
"See these hands?" he said, displaying calluses the size of quarters on his palms. "I used to work construction. But no more. It just doesn't pay."
Today, Martinez tries to earn extra money by guiding tourists to souvenir shops near the El Floridita.
"I want to go back to working on a construction site," he said. "But Cuba has no money. I think the pope can change things."
Variations on that wish came up often in conversations with ordinary Cubans on Tuesday. Invariably, they did not see the renewed diplomatic relationship with the United States as a political achievement so much as an opportunity to attract new businesses - and create new jobs with the kind of salaries that will help them support their families.
That's a heavy burden to place on the shoulders of any world leader - let alone a pope who spends more time wrestling with theology than economic flow charts and the ups and downs of unemployment. But, as he made clear in his recent encyclical on climate change and in numerous statements about war and the plight of migrants, Francis is not afraid to delve into more earthly topics.
On Tuesday afternoon, Modesto Leyva stood outside his shop on Old Havana's Obispo Street, shaking maracas to attract attention from passing tourists - and perhaps entice them inside to look over handmade jewelry, wooden carvings and T-shirts emblazoned with images of the Cuban revolutionary Ernesto "Che" Guevara.
"The pope has power," Leyva said. "I hope America pays attention."
Across town, Yuri Gallardo cruised down 23rd Street in his Ford Victoria. A cool, salty breeze blew off Havana's harbor, and Gallardo pointed to a government building on his left.
"I used to work there," he said. "I want to go back. But it might take 10 years for things to change here. So I drive this car."
Photo : Yuri Gallardo, 34, who quit his Cuban government job because of low pay, now takes tourists for rides through Havana in his 1953 Ford Victoria. (Photo by Mike Kelly)
A Busy Day of Spreading 'Good Vibes'
September 26, 2015
NEW YORK -- The occasionally sour, sometimes hard and even bitter Big Apple took on an intoxicating sweetness on Friday as it embraced a man who called on people to stop fighting and care for the poor and downtrodden.
From lower Manhattan to East Harlem and across a thousand patches of sidewalk in between, New York City seemed to put on a big, bright smile for Pope Francis.
Francis, in turn, smiled right back, seemingly energized by the day's arduous schedule that began with a speech before 9 a.m. to the United Nations General Assembly and ended almost 11 hours later with a song-filled Mass at Madison Square Garden.
In between, the pontiff met with families of 9/11 victims, presided at an interfaith prayer service inside the National September 11 Memorial and Museum, conducted a playful visit with students at a Catholic school in East Harlem and paraded in his popemobile past cheering throngs in Central Park.
Yes, there were some malcontents. This is, after all, New York City.
Near Central Park and Madison Square Garden, some admirers complained of having to wait too long for security checks for papal appearances. And a group of evangelical Christians, including members of Bread of Life Fellowship in Wayne, gathered on Church Street near the 9/11 Memorial Plaza on Friday morning to warn passersby of what they called "false teaching" by Francis.
But such critics and complainers were a distinct minority. What seemed remarkable about Friday -- the pope's only full day in New York City during an eight-day journey that began last week in Havana and ends Sunday in Philadelphia -- was how quickly this often-cynical city of many faiths took to a religious leader who said he came to build bridges between people, not divide them.
"We are all here to get the good feeling and the good vibes," said Seles Martinez, 28, a child welfare worker, as she waited outside Our Lady Queen of Angels School on 112th Street in East Harlem. "I like how he embraces everyone, not just those who are Catholic. In a world filled with so much anger, the good spirit here is overwhelming."
Francis arrived at the school just after 4 p.m. Before going inside, he walked up and down a sidewalk crowded with students. He shook hands with almost anyone who offered to grab his. He blessed children and their teachers. Then he posed for pictures.
In return, some children chanted "Holy father, we love you." Others sang "When the Saints Go Marching In."
That sort of impromptu, joy-filled give-and-take was repeated across the city on Friday. Some, however, saw the pope and his visit as a business opportunity.
Several blocks from the World Trade Center site, Santos Victul, 32, stood on a corner, selling T-shirts bearing a photo of Francis and this message: "The world tells us to seek success, power and money. God tells us to seek humility, service and love."
Victul said it was a message worth selling -- at $10 a shirt.
"I'm working for myself," Victul said. "I have three kids at home."
A few blocks away, the Rev. Donald Fussner stood on the steps of St. Peter's R.C. Church, watching the crowds gather for a glimpse of the pope's motorcade as it left the interfaith service at the National September 11 Memorial and Museum.
Fussner, 84, has his own uniquely personal connection to 9/11. He opened St. Peter's that day to receive the body of the Rev. Mychal Judge, the Franciscan priest and New York Fire Department chaplain who was the first recorded casualty that day and is now buried at a Catholic cemetery in Totowa.
On that morning, Fussner asked firefighters to lay Judge's body at the foot of the St. Peter's altar. Now, more than 14 years later, he said the pope's visit to the 9/11 memorial was a reminder of the "sacredness of the spot."
"The outpouring of the people is awesome," Fussner said. "The pope definitely strikes a chord with people."
Sheila Kioskerides of Scotch Plains felt that connection to Francis even though she was not able to meet him.
Kioskerides' brother, New York Deputy Fire Chief John Paolillo, was killed inside the north tower on 9/11. On Friday, she was part of a group of 9/11 victims' relatives who were selected to meet with the pope on the tree-lined Memorial Plaza before the interfaith service.
But she never got close enough. Too many others crowded around the pope.
"I was happy I could really see him," Kioskerides said. "We just needed his blessing."
The pope's appeal transcended religion. Even the irreverent, occasionally cranky and racy New York Post, which gravitates to blood-soaked murders and celebrity sex scandals, changed its name for the day to "New York Pope."
Near Madison Square Garden, Frank Rothstein, a video production manager, smiled as he looked at a large sign that proclaimed "Francis, our pope."
"I'm a Jewish kid from Brooklyn," said Rothstein, 52. "But I like this guy. He makes people happy. That's not a bad thing. He also thinks big. He thinks out of the box. He thinks in 3-D."
On Friday, some of that papal thinking came with a harsh prescription. At the United Nations, for instance, the pope called for an end to fighting, specifically singling out Ukraine, Syria and South Sudan. "Real human beings take precedence over partisan interests," he said.
Sometimes he was heartfelt and somber -- as when he spoke at the 9/11 museum. "This is a place where we shed tears," the pope said. "We weep out of a sense of helplessness in the face of injustice, murder, and the failure to settle conflicts through dialogue."
But sometimes the pope just seemed to want to have fun. He gave the children at Our Lady Queen of Angels School a homework assignment of sorts.
"Please don't forget to pray for me," he said.
Outside the school, Viviana Malatesta, a bakery worker from the Bronx, was not surprised that the pope had won over her city.
"He's humble," she said. "He's a man of God. He's right for our times."
Photo: Fans bearing the likeness of Pope Francis near a line of ticket holders for the Madison Square Garden Mass on Friday. (Photo by Jeff Green)
The Man with a Message
September 27, 2015
SOMEWHERE, behind the engaging eyes and the inviting smile, you have to wonder what Pope Francis must be thinking as he looks out day-after-day on the faces of people who flock to him.
I ask this after watching him during the last week, first in Cuba and later in America. This is a man with a message, whether it was tooling around Washington in a dinky Fiat instead of a limousine, or sermonizing before Cuban President Raúl Castro and other communist officials that leadership should serve people, not ideology, or stepping into America's immigration debate and telling Congress not to be "fearful of foreigners."
But Francis is also a man who is a magnet for messages -- from all points on the political and social compass. In some ways, this is the most unexplored aspect of his personal and power. Why do so many people want a piece of him? Who do so many believe he can actually help them with problems that seem so distant from religion?
Frustration
Consider Jose Angel, a waiter at a Havana restaurant. He is 27 and frustrated that he can't find a better job. He sees Francis as just the person who can spark financial investment in his nation -- and create more jobs. Really?
Or consider Yorois Ortegas, who taped a poster of Pope Francis to the window of his small shop on Havana's tourist-focused Obispo Street, where he sells perfume and women's lingerie. When I pointed to the poster and then to the display of skimpy women's underwear on display, Ortegas smiled and gave me a thumbs up. "The pope will bring more business," he said.
Later that evening, after I returned to my hotel, I booted up my computer and found my email box filled with more messages -- all of them from American activists asking for the pope to address their concerns when he arrived in the United States.
Catholics for a Free Choice, an abortion rights group, urged the pope not to support the so-called "religious liberty" campaign by conservatives, saying it was behind efforts to block the issuing of same sex marriage licenses.
Another group hoped the pope would meet with victims of sex abuse by priests. Another wanted the pope to call for the removal of unidentified human remains from a storage area in the National September 11 Memorial and Museum.
Immigration, economics
Progressives urged the pope to be even more supportive of immigrants -- as if he had not said enough on that issue. Conservatives wanted the pope to tone down what they felt were his anti-capitalist remarks.
And so it went. It was almost as if the world wanted "Papa Francisco" -- the endearing title given him by many Hispanics -- to be a real "Daddy" who approves and supports those who come to him.
The more Francis spoke, however, the more it became apparent that the people who want so much from the pope tend not to listen closely to his messages and -- perhaps just as important -- how he delivers them.
In last Sunday's sermon during the mass at Havana's Plaza de la Revolution, some Cuban critics wanted Francis to condemn the communist Castro regime that has ruled the island nation for more than half a century. Dissident groups clamored for a private audience with the pope but failed to get one. Others hoped the pope would simply issue a blanket call for political reform, democratic elections and free expression.
In a way, Francis touched on all of those issues -- but not in the specific manner many might have preferred. Instead of addressing problems, he focused on leadership -- but called it service instead. "Whoever wishes to be great must serve others, not be served by others," the pope said as Raúl Castro listened.
"Service is never ideological," Francis added, "for we do not serve ideas; we serve people."
Unless Raúl Castro and his communist pals are deaf or completely clueless, they surely got the message. Castro and his cronies have lived quite well over the past few decades while Cuba's people suffered one economic hardship after another. The pope could have pointed out the discrepancy in lifestyle -- and perhaps he may someday. But on another level, his nuanced message was even more effective because it was part of a call to do better.
That same style was on display several days later when the pope spoke to Congress.
Interest groups
As anticipation for the speech grew -- and especially its significance as a backdrop to the Republican and Democratic presidential campaigns -- various interest groups clamored for attention. Immigration advocates wanted the pope to slam Republicans -- especially Donald Trump -- for hard line stands against softer treatment of undocumented immigrants. Women and gays hoped the pope would call for greater tolerance on such issues as abortion and same-sex marriage.
Francis did not steer away from controversial issues. He touched on such diverse issues as immigration and war, climate change and income inequality, the death penalty and global weapons sales.
But he first laid down some key markers.
He said legislators are "called to defend and preserve the dignity of your fellow citizens in the tireless and demanding pursuit of the common good." He pointed out that "legislative activity is always based on care for the people." And he noted: "A good political leader is one who, with the interests of all in mind, seizes the moment in a spirit of openness and pragmatism. A good political leader always opts to initiate processes rather than possessing spaces."
The mission
Pay attention to several key phrases -- "defend dignity" and "common good" and "care" and "openness and pragmatism" and "initiate processes." In those words are hints of Francis' mission -- or, if he was a politician, his platform.
In his mind, finding "dignity" is as important as finding votes. "Common good" is another way of building coalitions. "Care" for the downtrodden should never involve politics. Politics is at its best when it embraces a spirit of "openness" that is coupled with "pragmatism." But being pragmatic is not an excuse to forgo creativity that can "initiate processes."
In the end, Francis spoke briefly about himself -- another hint of his style. "It is my duty," he said, "to build bridges and to help all men and women, in any way possible, to do the same."
And so he tried -- first in Cuba and then in Washington, New York and Philadelphia.
For now, he may be the most popular leader in America -- with good reason. Give him time. Maybe even Donald Trump will come around.
N.J. Cop Killer Living as a 'Ghost' in Havana
October 4, 2015
Under $2M Bounty, Chesimard Stays Out of Sight
HAVANA -- More than three decades after she broke out of a New Jersey prison and fled to Cuba with a promise of political asylum from Fidel Castro, Joanne Chesimard finds herself ensnared in a captivity of an altogether different sort.
Hers is not a prison with walls or guards. Friends here in Cuba's capital, where Chesimard, 68, has lived since the 1980s, portray her as a hostage to her own growing fear -- some say her omnipresent paranoia -- that the renewed diplomatic ties between Cuba and the United States will lead to her return to a New Jersey prison cell to finish serving a life sentence for murdering a state trooper in 1973.
A few associates even suggested that Chesimard, who goes by the name Assata Shakur even as the FBI refers to her by her birth name, also worries that she might be kidnapped by ordinary Cubans seeking the $2 million bounty for her capture.
Such is the portrait of one of America's most notorious and mysterious radicals -- a key figure in the militant Black Liberation Army -- who emerged in recent interviews with associates in Havana, where she has led an increasingly furtive, cloistered existence in recent years. One acquaintance likened her to a ghost, noting her knack for abruptly disappearing from any setting that made her nervous.
"In terms of what she's doing, who she sees -- I have no idea," said Cheri Laverne Dalton, a fellow Havana-based fugitive from American justice who has been linked to Chesimard's prison escape. "Two million dollars will make you private."
Chesimard, who remains a revolutionary icon to many in America's ultra-left and among some black activists and hip-hop artists, is the only woman on the FBI's list of most-wanted terrorists. In the past year, she also has emerged as a nettlesome political issue for the Obama administration, which sees improved ties with Cuba as a significant foreign policy accomplishment.
Several Republican presidential candidates -- including Governor Christie and U.S. Sens. Ted Cruz of Texas and Marco Rubio of Florida -- along with New Jersey's Democratic senior senator, Bob Menendez, have demanded that Chesimard be returned to prison before the United States even considers lifting its half-century-old economic embargo against Cuba.
The White House, meanwhile, has declined to say whether Chesimard's status -- and that of other Cuba-based fugitives such as Guillermo "Willie" Morales, a Puerto Rican nationalist linked to the 1975 murder of a Fair Lawn man -- will be part of upcoming talks with Cuba on a variety of economic, political and social issues.
For now, Cuban officials, citing Chesimard's guarantee of political asylum from Fidel Castro himself, say that she, Morales and the others will not be a factor in any negotiations with the United States.
But Chesimard reportedly assumes that any open door between Cuba and the United States will not be good news for her.
A variety of her friends and acquaintances interviewed in Cuba and in the United States described Chesimard as intensely secretive now about her comings and goings in Havana. Only her closest confidants know her exact address and phone number.
She reportedly fears strangers and has refused numerous media requests -- including The Record's -- to be interviewed and photographed. And when she leaves her home, those who have come into contact with her say she wants to know beforehand exactly who she will be meeting and why. One report said she travels with Cuban government security guards, but that could not be confirmed.
In a sense, this is Chesimard's third journey into a hidden life of rampant suspicion. Her first was as a gun-toting militant with the Black Liberation Army in the early 1970s. Then she lived as a fugitive in America's leftist underground after escaping from the state women's prison in Clinton, in Hunterdon County. Now, friends say, she is a virtual captive of her own fear in Cuba, a country that she may once have considered a revolutionary haven.
Capture, trial, escape
The renewed interest in Chesimard harks back to a period in the 1970s when a number of militant groups, including the Weather Underground, the Puerto Rican Armed Forces of National Liberation, or FALN, and the Black Liberation Army, all supported violent action against the U.S. government.
One of the most violent incidents of that period occurred just after midnight on May 2, 1973.
Chesimard and two other BLA operatives were stopped by a pair of New Jersey state troopers in the southbound lanes of the New Jersey Turnpike, near Exit 9 in East Brunswick. Almost immediately, a gunbattle broke out. BLA operative James Coston was shot to death, and Chesimard was wounded.
The troopers at the scene, James Harper and Werner Foerster, were both wounded. Harper tried to summon help from a nearby state police barracks. As Foerster lay on the ground, bleeding from gunshot wounds to his right arm and abdomen, authorities say either Chesimard or another BLA militant, Clark Squire, grabbed Foerster's gun and killed him with two point-blank shots to the head.
Chesimard and Squire were later captured and put on trial, with each receiving a life sentence for Foerster's murder. Squire continues to serve his prison sentence, while Chesimard is considered the most notorious figure from that period of revolutionary upheaval in America who is still on the run from law enforcement.
In various statements since the turnpike shooting and in her 1987 autobiography, Chesimard contends she did not play any role in Foerster's death and that the first shots were in fact fired without provocation by the state troopers. Law enforcement authorities, however, say Chesimard and her BLA companions were armed and fired first.
Her story still resonates among many African-American activists. During marches last year in Ferguson, Mo., to protest the police shooting of an unarmed black man, protesters cited Chesimard's case as an example of unfair treatment of African-Americans. She also has been the subject of several songs by hip-hop artists in recent years.
After turning up in Cuba in the early 1980s, Chesimard lived openly for a time in Havana. But her recent concern about avoiding the clutches of U.S. law enforcement has caused her to cut back on what had been a fairly active life during the 1980s and 1990s as a part-time teacher, seminar leader, author and mentor in Havana's black community and among the city's fledgling hip-hop artists.
For a time, Chesimard was even reportedly listed in the Havana telephone book, under the name Assata Shakur, as living in a two-story stucco house on 90th Street in the city's fashionable Playa section not far from a cluster of foreign embassies.
The house -- surrounded by an 8-foot-high chain-link fence with a green tarpaulin blocking the views of passers-by -- features an elaborate lock on the main gate and driveway.
On a recent morning, a woman who now lives in the house declined to give her name when she answered the doorbell. She said Chesimard abruptly left a decade ago -- a move that would have coincided with the FBI's announcement that it had set a $1 million bounty for her capture. That bounty was increased to $2 million in 2013 when the FBI added Chesimard to its list of most-wanted terrorists.
"She lived here years ago," the woman said, adding that Chesimard did not leave a forwarding address.
"I think she wanted to be alone," the woman added.
A neighbor, who also declined to give her name, said she did not know why Chesimard left.
"I can't say anything," the woman added, quickly turning and heading back inside her home at the mention of Chesimard's name.
Chesimard's U.S. attorney, Lennox Hinds, a professor of criminal justice at Rutgers University, declined to say whether he knew where she lives now in Havana. Hinds also declined a request by The Record to arrange an interview with Chesimard.
"Obviously, there is a manhunt for her," Hinds said. "There are private bounty hunters who are out there in addition to the official government intelligence agencies.
"If I travel to the island, I'm monitored," he added. "It is a very, very serious security issue. And it's a matter of life and death for her."
Afraid of strangers
That sense of fear extends even to old associates in the Black Liberation Army.
Several months ago, Chesimard telephoned Dalton, who fled to Cuba in the mid-1980s after she was accused of participating in Chesimard's prison escape. Dalton also was indicted by federal authorities for allegedly helping leftist militants, including members of the BLA and the Weather Underground, steal $1.6 million from a Brinks armored truck at the Nanuet Mall in Rockland County in October 1981. Two Nyack police officers were killed along with a Brinks security guard in the gunbattle that followed the robbery.
Dalton, 65, who goes by the name Nehanda Abiodun, said in a recent telephone interview in Havana that the call from Chesimard came as something of a surprise. Dalton said she had not heard from her old revolutionary colleague in some time.
While she worried about Chesimard's whereabouts and status, Dalton said she tried to never ask too many questions about her friend's living situation. Dalton said she had come to learn from other contacts that Chesimard was deeply fearful of being returned to the United States.
In that phone call, Dalton said the two women did not discuss their lives on the run. Instead, they talked about something far more personal -- and hardly revolutionary.
"She is a grandmother. So am I," Dalton said. "We talked about our grandbabies."
Dalton said she did not press Chesimard for a phone number or address. There was an unspoken understanding, she said, that that kind of information was off-limits in light of Chesimard's fear of being captured.
The call ended after only a few minutes. Chesimard did not say when she might call again.
"You know she has $2 million on her head," Dalton said, adding that Chesimard "has to be extremely cautious."
While not as well-known as Chesimard, Dalton nevertheless has a $100,000 bounty for her capture and she is listed as a "domestic terrorist" on the website of the FBI's New York field office, which is overseeing her investigation. In the interview, she also declined to discuss her alleged role in Chesimard's escape from the Clinton Correctional Facility -- now the Edna Mahan Correctional Facility for Women -- in 1979. Dalton was first linked to Chesimard's escape almost a decade later in testimony during the trial of one of the Brinks robbers.
"Do you think I would answer that question? Be logical," said Dalton when asked if she assisted in Chesimard's escape. "If I did it, I wouldn't even tell my mother. If I didn't do it, I'm proud to have been accused to be associated with it. She needed to be out of prison."
The FBI and the New Jersey State Police said last week that they continue to try to monitor Chesimard's activities in Havana, but both declined to say how they do this. Sources at both agencies, however, confirmed that Chesimard has assumed a much lower profile in the years after the bounty for her capture was announced and then doubled.
"Joanne Chesimard continues to remain a fugitive wanted by the FBI," said Special Agent Celeste Danzi, a spokeswoman for the FBI's Newark field office, which is leading the Chesimard investigation. "She is a domestic terrorist. She murdered a law enforcement officer. Until she is brought to justice to serve her sentence, we will continue to keep her on the wanted list."
'Came and went'
Before the FBI bounty was announced a decade ago, Chesimard occasionally met with members of Havana's fledgling hip-hop community.
Cuban hip-hop, which became popular in the mid-1990s, began as something of a social protest movement by Afro-Cubans against what they saw as a racist society.
Soandry Del Rio, a popular Cuban hip-hop artist who was featured in the documentary "East of Havana," said he met Chesimard three times, usually in small groups of other hip-hop artists and Afro-Cuban activists. But he quickly noticed that she often seemed skittish and fearful of coming to any meeting in which she was not familiar with everyone who attended.
Sitting recently in a Havana restaurant, Del Rio, 39, described how Chesimard abruptly left a meeting when she became uncomfortable in the presence of an American.
"There was this argument between a Cuban and an American," Del Rio said. "The Cuban guy told the American guy, 'Well, you come here all the time. What are you after?' During the argument, she just got up and left. They were not discussing her. But it was just the subject of someone coming to Cuba repeatedly and whose goal was not clear. So she got paranoid at that."
That sort of quick exit, said Del Rio, came to be seen by many in the hip-hop community as part of Chesimard's personality.
"Assata was like a ghost," Del Rio said. "She came and went very suddenly."
Terrence Jennings, a New York-based photographer who specializes in portraits of hip-hop artists, said he ran into Chesimard on a Havana street about a decade ago. Jennings approached Chesimard, who was alone. Using her preferred name, he asked her in English, "Are you Assata Shakur?"
"No," Chesimard said, responding in Spanish and walking on.
Jennings said he circled the block and approached Chesimard again. This time, he said, she acknowledged -- in English -- that she was indeed Assata Shakur. The two then ducked into a cafe and talked at length, Jennings said. Chesimard, he said, even addressed the 1973 gunbattle on the New Jersey Turnpike in which Foerster was shot and killed, execution style, with his own gun.
"She said she was acting in self-defense," Jennings said, adding that "she never mentioned the bounty on her head."
Today, Chesimard's closest associates say she does not want to return to the United States, though she fears she may one day be forced to go back.
Soandry Del Rio, the Cuban hip-hop artist, said he often wondered how the African-American woman, who braided her shoulder-length hair and who sometimes talked about racism back home in America, could ever truly adjust to Cuba.
"She looked like somebody who accepted her own destiny," Del Rio said. "But I think that she was not happy here."
GRAPHIC - JERRY LUCIANI/STAFF ARTIST
Photo: Joanne Chesimard has been living in Cuba since the early 1980s after Cuban President Fidel Castro guaranteed her political asylum.
Photo: State Trooper Werner Foerster was killed in a 1973 traffic stop. Chesimard was convicted in the shooting.
Suspected Bomber Keeps Low Profile in Cuba
October 4, 2015
Simple Phone Search Finds Him
HAVANA -- A suspected mastermind of a Manhattan bombing that killed a Fair Lawn man four decades ago now lives on the third floor of an apartment building, not far from this city's Plaza de la Revolución, the epicenter of Cuban politics.
But like Joanne Chesimard, a fellow American fugitive living in Havana, Guillermo "Willie" Morales seems to have become increasingly fearful that he will be extradited to the United States.
Morales, 65, was the chief bombmaker for the Armed Forces of National Liberation, or FALN, a Puerto Rican paramilitary group. He has been linked to the January 1975 bombing of the Fraunces Tavern in lower Manhattan, in which Frank Connor of Fair Lawn and three others were killed. Morales fled to Cuba in 1988 and was granted political asylum.
Connor, a bank executive in Manhattan, was 33 when he was killed, leaving behind two young sons and a wife in Fair Lawn.
Morales was never formally charged in the tavern bombing. He was apprehended three years later, when a bomb he was making in a Queens, N.Y., apartment exploded prematurely. In that explosion, Morales lost all of his fingers and the use of one eye.
Still claiming that he was a revolutionary fighter for Puerto Rican independence, he was later convicted in federal and state trials of illegal possession of explosive materials and sentenced to 89 years in prison.
After his sentencing and while being treated for his injuries, he escaped from a prison ward at Bellevue Hospital Center and disappeared into America's radical underground before turning up in Cuba.
After Morales did not respond to several email requests for an interview, I drove to his apartment building on 37th Street in Havana's Vedado section on a recent afternoon while I was on assignment in Cuba.
The hallway to Morales' third-floor apartment is protected by an iron gate -- not unlike a jail cell. The hallway also contained several plants and a line for drying laundry.
Morales did not answer his doorbell.
I dialed a phone number for his apartment that had once been listed in a Havana telephone book.
Morales answered on the first ring.
After I identified myself, he said in Spanish: "Don't call here anymore. Don't call here anymore or I'll call the cops."
Then he hung up.
Morales' attorney, Ronald Kuby of New York City, said his client is trying to maintain a low profile as U.S. and Cuban officials continue negotiations to firm up renewed diplomatic relations between the two nations.
Morales is one of an estimated 60 U.S. fugitives who fled to Cuba in the last half-century. Whether the status of any fugitives -- including Chesimard and Morales -- will be part of U.S.-Cuba negotiations remains to be seen.
But Kuby said he has advised his client not to comment about himself or other fugitives.
"It's not shyness," Kuby said. "It obviously has to do with the current situation and the desire by both sides not to showcase issues that are poking in the eye of the other."
Back in New Jersey, Joseph Connor of Glen Rock, who was 9 years old when his father was killed, said he considers it "disgraceful" that Morales is allowed to live free in Cuba.
"This guy is responsible for my father's death," Connor said. "It's never been answered."
Photo: Frank Connor with his wife, Mary, and sons Tom, foreground, and Joe in an undated photo. (Photo courtesy of the Connor Family)
Photo: At right, Guillermo "Willie" Morales while in jail in 1983. (Associated Press)