America's little bit of Cuba

AS America's al Qaeda suspects adjust to their sultry new surroundings in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, they may be in time to witness the extraordinary spectacle of the felling of a small forest of fir trees. The pines are almost as far from home as the prisoners. They are Christmas trees, authentic down to their spruce scent and shedding needles, which are airlifted into the United States naval base every year to lend holiday cheer. Naturally, they are stripped of their baubles and lights by twelfth night, though, in truth, the trees will have shown signs of wilting some days earlier, in their unfamiliar tropical environment.

The symbolism of these seasonal trappings won't be lost on Guantanamo's new arrivals, should they happen to gaze upon them from their open-air cages.

Leaving aside the ticklish religious overtones, the smell of sap and prickle of conifer testify to Washington's ruthless Americanisation of this corner of the Caribbean, a reminder to the newcomers of what's happening in the country they've left behind.

Until now, the easterly tip of Cuba was best known to the wider world for a traditional ballad about a young woman of those parts, Guantanamera, a tune equally popular in the bars of Havana and on the terraces of British football grounds. But in reality, "Gitmo", as the base is known, is about as Cuban as apple pie. Under the harsh sun, young men in fatigues file into an outpost of McDonald's for the breakfast special. The fast-food outlet is next to the commissary, a mall for shoppers in battledress. One store sells T-shirts depicting Cuban leader Fidel Castro and a vulture, above the legend "Birds of a Feather".

It's ironic that the island, which has given the Pentagon so many sleepless nights since the Cuban missile crisis and the Bay of Pigs debacle in the 1960s, should present itself as the answer to a defence chief 's prayers. As many as 2,000 alleged al Qaeda captives are expected to be detained just an hour's flight from Florida, but on foreign soil. Not only does Uncle Sam have Fidel in his backyard but Fidel has Uncle Sam in his backyard, too.

Under a lease signed before the Second World War, which is good until 2033, Washington has tenure of 40 square kilometres of Cuba. In one of the quirkier anomalies of the American-Cuban relationship, those arch foes of communism in the Defense department send Castro a cheque for $4,085 every year, and every year Castro does his bit for the American taxpayer by ostentatiously refusing to bank it.

The detainees may glimpse the facilities at Gitmo, where 7,000 or so servicemen and women indulge in frivolous western pastimes. There is a soccer pitch and a softball quadrant and pits where young Americans toss horseshoes.

At the Marblehead bowling alley, men with buzzsaw haircuts and immaculately pressed T-shirts sip Diet Coke between games. By night, bingo is called, in a prefabricated hangar.

Instead of the hollering and highfiving that you might expect, the game has the hushed atmosphere of religious instruction. The only sounds are the barely amplified voice of the caller and the noise of ballpoints connecting deliberately with card. The bar on the base is called the Lateral Hazard, where knots of shorn beefcake stand around pool tables. A slightly higher aggregate IQ and it might pass for a gay club. As it is, patrons sing along to country-and-western videos, and there is a certain amount of good-natured violence.

reporter for Channel 4 News and when I went to Gitmo, it was to view lots in an auction of second-hand military equipment. The hulk of a ferry ("original cost $750,000") was decaying greyly.

There were 3,000 "port-o-potties", at $250 a time. The kit was Gulf War surplus, redirected to Gitmo for use in running refugee camps for Cuban balseros, or boat people. This khaki version of a car- boot sale took place on a patch of sandy ground within sight of the border with revolutionary Cuba.

In the absence of a putative terrorist connection, visitors are billeted at the Navy Lodge. It's run by ratings who are extremely courteous and serve complimentary coffee from a simmering pot. One apparent spin-off of franchising hostelry work out to the military is the high degree of deference offered to guests. On the other hand, by the look of the barrel-chested desk clerks, the arrangement would make you think twice about leaving without settling your bill, one worry that the prisoners from Afghanistan will be spared.

Stephen Smith is the author of The Land of Miracles, a journey through modern Cuba (Abacus, pounds 8.99).

Copyright 2002
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