Islands in the Sun
No place on earth offers better proof of the failures of government-planned economy than Isla De La Juventud in Cuba. Previously called the Isle of Pines this large island was once a prosperous arable land with good crops and pleasant people. The government moved a huge number of impoverished people in Western Cuba to this island to spread the wealth. The newcomers did not work, but they knew how to steal. Within twenty years this society had degenerated into the lawless place consumed by poverty and corruption that it is today.
Cuba’s second largest island lies sixty miles off the south coast of the main island. It came to international notice in the Fifties when it was used as the site of imprisonment for Fidel and Raul Castro a few years before their successful march into Havana. The south coast of the Island is lined with miles of continuous pristine beaches against the clear blue waters of the Caribbean Sea. This unspoiled coast has always been a diamond in the rough in the eyes of those who develop international resort communities. But this has never fit within the boundaries of what had been acceptable to the Castros and their followers. Today the Isle of Youth as it’s now called lies in wait for a better day and for someone to come in and bring order to what used to be a prosperous agro community.
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The Land Rover stopped near the dunes of a long white sandy beach. Three men got out of the car. Two of them were Chinese. The third, not Asian, went around and took a transit from the baggage section. He leveled the tripod and pointed the telescope down the beach toward a break in the almost perfect slow curve of the shoreline. He motioned the Chinese to come have a look. This they did, shaking their heads in agreement of some kind. The transit was then disassembled and all they got back into the car and drove off across rough terrain in the direction they’d been looking.
These same three men, after a 45-minute helicopter ride, sat together in the saloon of a large private yacht tied up in Havana Harbor and under charter to the man with the transit, a developer of large resort properties. On the table in front of them was a large drawing, which mapped out roads, buildings, golf courses, clubs and a small airfield on the south coast of the Isle of Youth below the marsh area which divided the Island in half from east to west. The area north of the swamps was more arid and housed the more urban villages.
A young Cuban, introduced to the Chinese visitors as the Minister of Agriculture, joined them. They spoke English, leading the Chinese to compliment the Minister on speaking the language so well. He’d spent time in the U.S. at school and later in college, he told them, and while there had earned an engineering degree in land development and urban design. The Cuban was introduced as Ramon, but it was not clear that was his real name.
Mohitos and pineapple were served by one of the ships cooks and the four got down to some basic issues.
“Are all the necessary government approvals in place?” the developer asked Ramon.
“Almost. Another three months should give my Ministry the time needed to finalize the drainage and other infra structure.”
“What about the population. We can’t bring free wheeling foreigners with money in their pockets into that robbers nest.”
The Chinese looked with interest at Ramon as he answered that question.
“All able bodied men from 18 to 45 will be placed into military training and after 18 months of special treatment sent back under command to patrol and keep order. Boys 12 to 18 will be transported to Eastern Cuba where they will attend military school to instill discipline and order to their lives and provide them with decent nutrition. The young ladies will be schooled locally and trained for paying jobs in hotels and other facilities when the Resort is finished. It’s all underway as we sit here.”
One of the Chinese smiled. He knew that this plan was being implemented under guidance from those who’d done similar work in China.
“And visas? What about the Americans? We’ll need their dollars. And they’re right next door.”
“We’re working on it, but that’s out of my jurisdiction.”
The meeting went on for several hours and progressed more into details of each division of the land . . . into hotels, sporting facilities, golf courses, and several residential developments covering a wide scope of homes . . . valued from many millions of Dollars on the water to a few hundred thousand in small villages of town houses. They were served a late lobster dinner in the main dinning room, and escorted to the stern deck for desert and some good Cognac.
The Minister departed down the gangplank around midnight, as the Chinese guests were escorted to their respective staterooms on the number one deck. The man from what once was called the Portuguese Island of Macau took the starboard room, and the official from Beijing settled into the port side space with windows looking seaward.