What if Elian Were Pug-Ugly? Or Black?

A web-only essay by Lance Morrow.

  • I have received almost 200 e-mails in the last day or so regarding Elian Gonzalez. Most of them agree with my thought that the personal has better claims than the political, and that long-time Cuban hatreds should not override the bond of father and son.

    I must admit that a few of those who agree with me make me nervous enough to doubt my case, and that, while I think I am correct overall, those who disagree with me have a powerful point about life under Castro.

    With each day that passes, however, Elian's Miami relatives are establishing facts on the ground: the embattled nest in Little Havana, more permanent with each news cycle; the boy's obvious emotional ties in the new home, especially to the young cousin who is now called (by whom?) a "surrogate mother" to him. So with each day, it comes to seem — what is the word? — more "natural" for Elian to remain in Miami, while the truly natural thing (a son returning to his father) comes to seem proportionately unnatural. The media circus takes on a life and ritual of its own; the boy swings endlessly in that swing, a film clip of fierce, unnaturally energized normality. Angry Cuban exiles form a human barricade. Police and television crews stand by.

    The case is being adjudicated in the court of public relations. The moralizing dynamics of daytime television supersede, almost, the rule of law. The father is now portrayed as subtly responsible for Fidel Castro's sins, or at least, complicit in them. The father morphs (subconsciously) into the dictator. Good God, he was trying to make the boy sing revolutionary songs over the telephone! He's a fraud! A monster!

    For those who watch, the case is a Rorschach test — the responses passionate, telling, and on occasion, depressing.

    A couple of points still worth making, especially because courtroom sentiment runs the other way:

    I add two final points in hopes of perspective: