The subject in New York was a numbers game. As the talks went into the weekend, U.S. and Cuban negotiators debated how to halt the exodus. The Cubans tried publicly to steer the discussion toward ending the 32-year-old trade embargo – but agreed privately with a U.S. demand to focus the talks on refugees. A deal was emerging: Washington would allow a minimum number of legal immigrants each year if Havana would restrict illegal outflows. The agreement may have been a diplomatic triumph, but the quotas seemed painfully inadequate to the crisis. By Friday, nearly 20,000 Cubans had taken to the seas since Aug. 19, when the Clin-ton administration decided to close U.S. shores to rafters. As the White House got commitments around the Caribbean for additional temporary housing, the situation at Guantanamo – already home to more than 18,000 Cubans and 14,000 Haitians – grew volatile.
“Could there be violence in these camps?” asks Brig. Gen. Michael Williams, commander of the migrant operation. “Yes, there could be. I don’t think we’re close to a riot. But I think we’re probably close to some demonstrations. And when demonstrations start, they’re difficult to control.” Cooped up in camps ringed by concertina wire, Guantanamo’s inmates have little to do except brood. Examples of frustration abound: an unsuccessful suicide attempt, complaints about food, threats of a hunger strike. “This is worse than a Nazi camp,” grumbles Jenaro Palacio, whose tent city lies atop a onetime golf course. “We want freedom.” They’re unlikely to get it any time soon, according to senior U.S. officials, who say Guantanamo residents won’t receive special treatment when it comes to U.S. visas. “They would be processed like anybody else,” says a White House aide.
To keep the peace, camp authorities are isolating what a senior officer calls “the seedier elements.” A former ammunition warehouse on the base now serves as a holding center for dozens of young Cuban men who threatened to stay aboard the coast guard ship that rescued them. Williams confirms the presence of several former felons at the camp, including one man deported to Cuba for criminal activities in the United States, and says that an informal survey uncovered “maybe 1 or 2 percent of the population” with tattoos typical of prison inmates or gang members. Adding to the restiveness is an increasingly desperate group of Cubans – about 50 each day – who reach Guantanamo by swimming, rafting or walking through the minefields.
So far Washington has managed to avoid a calamity – with the help of old preparations and some quick-witted ad-libbing. As early as February, Newsweek has learned, the coast guard exercised a revised contingency plan to head off a replay of the 1980 Mariel boatlift. It rapidly expanded the operation last month when the expected trickle of migrants grew into a flood. The U.S. Atlantic Command has plans to blockade Cuba or to invade it. Those long-term options represent a worst-case scenario supported by a recent Rand Corp. study. Havana, it argues, is drifting toward increased repression and even uncontrolled violence; Washington should prepare for a major crisis and possible U.S. military action. America can force change only by maintaining the trade ban, the report says.
President Clinton’s short-term options don’t look much better. Last week’s talks could lead to issue-by-issue discussions between Washington and Havana. But Fidel Castro will eventually insist on a lifting of the embargo. At that point, the president must decide whether to take that politically unpopular step – or warehouse up to 2 million Cubans who may try to flee. Until then, Clinton will have enough to do just keeping the lid on a simmering Guantanamo Bay.
