Unfair to Single Out Miami for Criticism

August 8, 2000 | The Miami Herald
Frank Calzon

We find bigotry directed at groups whose views are at variance with political fashion. Not every outrageous criticism is rooted in prejudice. So, please forgive me if I sound somewhat thin-skinned for reacting with a mental skin rash earlier this summer when demonstrators dumped a truckload of bananas on the steps of Miami's City Hall. The bananas were a way of labeling Miami as a banana republic.

Cubans love bananas and whatever the political passions of the moment it is true that Cuban Americans play an important, some critics say an excessive, role in the city.

However, what would the critics say if a group of citizens, disappointed in the policies of elected officials of Atlanta or Washington, two predominantly African-American cities, expressed their frustrations with politicians and their African-American constituents by dumping watermelons on the steps of their city halls? Legitimate criticism, it would be said, was turning into bigotry and stereotyping.

Today bigotry is illegal, and America compared to a couple of generations ago has become an inclusive and tolerant place.
However, we find bigotry directed at groups whose views are at variance with political fashion. For some, Miami qualifies as a banana republic, not simply due to the sleaziness of local politics but because of the Cuban-American presence. Yet people who subscribe to bigotry would rather call it something else.
This is neither to deny the problems of Miami nor to attempt to silence its critics. But let us look at the facts: At the Republican National Convention last week, press reports indicate thousands of protesters battled police officers, "chaining themselves together to block intersections, jumping on cars and throwing debris into the street.'' Three policemen were treated when an unknown substance was splashed in their eyes, and a fourth was hospitalized with head injuries after being hit with a bicycle.

Twenty police cars were damaged and several hundred people arrested. Despite the difference in magnitude, in comparison to the recent disturbances in Miami no one has called Philadelphia a banana republic, and no one dumped produce on the steps of Independence Hall.

Chicago during the reign of the first Richard Daley was considered successful but corrupt. Would anyone have dared dump potatoes on the steps of city hall to protest the grip on municipal offices of Irish politicians?
In the sovereign state of Louisiana, former Gov. Edwin Edwards was convicted this May on 17 counts of racketeering, extortion, money laundering, fraud and conspiracy. No one has called Louisiana a "catfish republic.''

In Arkansas, former Gov. Jim Guy Tucker pleaded guilty to a conspiracy to avoid taxes and promised to cooperate with federal prosecutors. No one has charged the president's home state with being a "razorback republic.''

A common denominator in these cases is that there were prosecutions. Corruption in the United States is viewed as aberrant and illegal, and there are the means of addressing it. By contrast, the corruption of Fidel Castro's regime, about which we hear precious little, is endemic. It is built into his system.
You can't explain how Cuba functions today except by reference to this pervasive pathology.

The fact that few want to speak of the corruption in Cuba and yet are willing to assume the worse when dealing with the Magic City suggests that there has been a transference of sorts. It is not Castro's regime that is to blame but rather those who object to it.
Whatever one might think about Miami and its people, the recent squawking, while perhaps understandable, served to obscure the vitality of Miami, its great promise and the civility of most of its people, which, despite considerable provocation, makes possible the miracle that is Miami today.