In what could only be described as an episode of "revolutionary science fiction," Holguín's governor, Manuel Francisco Hernández Aguilera, appeared on the government program "Mesa Redonda" this past Friday. His appearance served as a stark reminder that in Cuba, reality isn't measured by statistics or tangible achievements, but through propaganda, slogans, and forced enthusiasm.
The night's surreal segment kicked off when the official journalist Randy Alonso Falcón—known for his "unwavering professionalism," akin to the nodding dogs on car dashboards—posed a question that seemed to have a pre-packaged answer. "What are Holguín's greatest challenges?" Alonso inquired after a mind-numbing interview with the governor. Without missing a beat, Hernández Aguilera brandished his secret weapon: a small mug inscribed with a propagandistic slogan that boasted the "Holguín honor."
"Look, we even have this... this mug... 'Holguín honor'... 'for a 26 in 25'... It's not just a slogan, it's a conviction," Hernández Aguilera explained to the wide-eyed Alonso Falcón, who broke his habitual nodding with a rare expression of awe at the ingenuity of Holguín's government advertisers.
"The final product is... our people, that is, ourselves. Through this campaign, we've set goals, not to compete with other provinces constantly, but to assign ourselves challenging economic tasks to advance the province's development," the governor elaborated, losing all semblance of coherence in his rambling discourse.
The Reality of Revolutionary Mathematics
In Holguín, propaganda, the calendar, and revolutionary arithmetic obey their own laws. First comes May 1st, then July 26th... but in 2025, a year when Holguín's authorities call to "double efforts for the territory to host central activities for July 26th." Or something like that... who really knows? Between mugs and epic phrases, the governor made it clear that the true final product isn't rice, electricity, or functioning hospitals, but "us," the people, transformed into the finest raw material of revolutionary rhetoric. National pride, even if the bread is scarce!
Not content with his brilliant theoretical exposition, Hernández Aguilera boasted about the full house at the Calixto García stadium during a "preliminary event" for May 1st. "There was tremendous enthusiasm in the stadium today. Over 10,000... committed to that Holguín honor," he celebrated, with no one daring to ask how many attended voluntarily and how many were "voluntarily" obligated.
From Celebrations to Empty Promises
"More than 10,000... committed, revolutionary... And we're going to fill the plaza on May 1st. Not the Plaza of the Revolution, but the other plazas," the leader added, his pupils increasingly dilated. The contents of Hernández Aguilera's "mug" were just beginning to emanate their most delirious fumes. In another burst of excitement, the governor proudly announced a series of celebrations for the 99th birthday of dictator Fidel Castro, nostalgically referred to as "the chief."
"The second stage: August 13th... 99 years of the commander and the call for the centennial... And what better gift can this centennial generation give the chief?... We've issued a call for 100 tasks for the chief's 100th birthday... committed to the revolution, to continue advancing for the good we all want," Hernández Aguilera proclaimed, while Alonso Falcón reached an arithmetic-contemplative ecstasy.
Did the interviewer inquire about the content of these tasks? Well, that's not particularly significant; the essential element is the spirit: to do a lot, even if nothing gets resolved.
"And we feel a majority support from the people of Holguín. A majority amidst limitations, amidst calls, amidst issues, which we haven't been able to resolve yet, and there are some where we've had that 'hey, this isn't the focus, now focus on this!'" the leader explained in a paroxysm induced by his "revolutionary" governance actions.
The appearance concluded as it began: with an outpouring of empty phrases, vague promises, and blind faith in a future that is always two political events away. "Those are the challenges we have in Holguín, and that's the dream of each of us, every single day: to go out and fight to maintain the gains of our revolution," Hernández Aguilera concluded.
By then, Randy was likely envisioning pink elephants swirling in the studio, hunted by none other than Castro himself and roasted by Manuel Marrero Cruz, while Miguel Díaz-Canel tuned his lyre to sing the epic of "continuity."
Yet, the "Holguín honor" remained intact, encapsulated in a mug that, if not for gravity, would have flown off to inundate with manna the "sponge mode" heart of Lis Cuesta Peraza, a master of rhetoric in round and Swedish tables.
Meanwhile, the reality in Holguín—and throughout Cuba—remains stubbornly unchanged, with no mugs in sight, waiting to see if someday, amidst plenaries, slogans, and parades, someone remembers that there are still stomachs to fill, hospitals to repair, and lives to improve.
But fear not: as long as there is enthusiasm, mugs, and collective dreams, Cuba is saved. Or so they claim on "Mesa Redonda." Or so they hallucinate.
Understanding Holguín's Political Landscape
What is the significance of the slogan "for a 26 in 25" in Holguín?
The slogan "for a 26 in 25" refers to the goal set by Holguín's authorities to intensify efforts so that the region can host central activities for the July 26th celebration by the year 2025.
How does Holguín's government view its citizens in the context of its propaganda?
The government of Holguín portrays its citizens as the ultimate "product," suggesting that the people themselves are the raw material for revolutionary rhetoric rather than tangible goods or services.