Batista, it is clear, is not coming back. The revolution is safe -- unchanged, undiluted, embalmed. In most nations that have experienced far-reaching revolutions, the revolutionary generation tends to cling to power tenaciously, looking almost as askance at its children as it did at the regime it deposed. The Chinese equivalent of Cuba's Sierra Maestra was the Long March -- slogging with Mao Zedong and Zhou En-Lai across China in the '30s was a ticket to ruling China in the '80s, provided you survived Mao's many purges. The generation that fought alongside Ho Chi Minh in the '50s still ran Vietnam in the '90s.
Revolutionary generations may have some capacity for change, as Deng Xiao-Ping demonstrated in China. But in Cuba, the revolution has been a more closely held affair. There, the revolution and the nation have been identified with one man since the Eisenhower administration. Now it is identified with one family. As my friend Marc Cooper, the Nation magazine writer, has noted, the success of the 50-year project of creating The New Socialist Man, with children raised on party-written textbooks and grown-ups reading party-written news, seems questionable when the best Fidel can do is turn to his own brother. Scientific socialism, apparently, isn't teachable; it's genetic. The Castros got it. This is a cult of the Indispensable Man.