Editor’s Note: The film discussed below, Cuba: In The Shadow of Doubt, has been the focus of considerable controversy within recent months. Accuracy in Media, Inc., has criticized the film as “propaganda” for the Castro regime and encouraged a letter-writing campaign to the film’s principal funders, the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, the Public Broadcasting Service, and the National Endowment for the Humanities, which provided support for the project through the New York Council for the Humanities. The New York Council maintains that the film project appropriately presents “a range of contrasting viewpoints” and is consistent with efforts to bring the insights of the humanities to public audiences. Citing the role of scholarly advisers in the project, the Council has asked the AHA’s Professional Division to review the controversy within the context of its Statement on Standards of Professional Conduct, now in draft form.
The debate about Castro’s Cuba continues to steam, evidenced in recent months by the publication of Tad Szulc’s 700-page “critical” biography, Fidel, and Aryeh Neier’s biting attack on Cuba’s human rights abuses published in the New York Review of Books. Now Seven Leagues Productions in association with WNET offers another contribution to the debate. Cuba: In the Shadow of Doubt attempts to show both sides of the disputes through the medium of documentary film. Over all, the program does a remarkably good job of exposing viewers to central points of contention in the assessment of Castro’s revolution.
The filmmakers use interviews to convey the main ideas of the debate. Castro’s most articulate critic in the film is Dr. Pedro Monteagudo, a psychiatrist. Like many Cubans in exile, Monteagudo proclaims himself an advocate of “Cuban revolution,” but he laments the way Castro betrayed democratic reformers and made the new state communist and totalitarian. Monteagudo declares personal freedom is a Cuban’s paramount concern, and only someone who would enjoy being a slave would trade this liberty for Castro’s promises of material comfort under communism. Thinking of the thousands who left their country reluctantly, Monteagudo says, “I carry my homeland in my chest like a grandiose wound.”
Primary spokesman for the Revolution is Fidel himself. Gesticulating energetically, Castro tries to dismiss familiar criticisms like a parent scolding a child for asking silly questions. He explains that his flawed and expensive push to produce 10-million tons of sugar in 1970 showed “errors of idealism,” and he argues that the Soviet Union pays a high price for Cuban sugar not to provide a gift but to maintain “fair actions.” Taking the offensive, Castro praises the spirit of sacrifice and “superior” morality in today’s Cuba, and he berates the United States for befriending the Somozas and Pinochets of the world.
The interviews and narrative suggest a thesis. Gains toward economic and social equality over the last quarter of a century have been impressive, the film concludes, but Cubans have not achieved the democracy and personal liberty Castro promised. As Alfred Stephan, Dean at Columbia University, notes, “The Revolution’s record for employment, public health, and education is impressive, but its press is the worst in Latin America with the possible exception of Haiti’s and Paraguay’s. That does something to people’s spirit.”
In a number of places the film allows us to contemplate a filmmaker’s difficulties in creating a valid assessment of Cuba’s recent history. The interviews lead us to ask: can a camera crew pursue the truth when their movements are carefully directed by government authorities? For example, when the crew visits a Havana women’s prison, a guide announces, “We have nothing to hide. Where else in the world can you film a prison like you are doing here?” The remark makes us wonder how many locations for incarcerated political prisoners were not and could not be visited. The problem becomes more evident in an interview with the oldest American resident on the Isle of Pines. When asked about her assessment of the Revolution, Edith Sundstrom claims neutrality. A Communist Party enthusiast then asks how she can remain neutral after she has been taken around to many sites and seen the Revolution’s wonderful progress in building schools, factories, and other facilities. The woman then sheepishly agrees that the progress has been “tremendous,” and the official glows with pride. Thankfully, the producers allowed the subtleties of the exchange to play out on the screen so that viewers could reach their own judgment about the lessons.
Weaving through the commentaries are a number of excellent film segments illustrating critical moments in recent Cuban history. The sections include shots of Castro’s release from prison in the days of Batista’s rule, the work of his guerrilla band in the Sierra Maestra mountains, the Bay of Pigs invasion, Castro’s visit to Moscow, and other events.
The producers of Cuba: In the Shadow of Doubt are Jim Burroughs, Carol Polakoff, and Suzanne Bauman. Peter Winn, historian at Tufts University, and Suzanne Baumann wrote the script. Film and video copies are available from Filmakers Library, 133 East 58th St., New York, NY, 10022 (telephone 212-355-6545).
