Mad About Cuba: A Malayali’s journey through history, economics & revolution

Why do Malayalis share an emotional bond with a Caribbean island over 15,000 km away from Kerala? How did Che Guevara and Fidel Castro become synonymous with AKG and EMS? Is it communism, a shared commitment to welfare, or perhaps a fondness for rolled cigars and beedis? Ullekh NP’s book Mad About Cuba: A Malayali Revisits the Revolution offers an engaging travelogue interwoven with history, economics, and politics.

​Growing up in a Marxist household when literature about Castro and Che was in vogue, the author shares a deep bond with the small island nation. In the book, Ullekh seeks historical, political and economic rationales for every experience he has in Cuba.

​Through interactions with locals, the book unpacks Cuba's socio-economic realities. A young waitress at the Nacional de Cuba Hotel illustrates why many youths born post-1959 revolution prioritise better living standards over political ideologies. While Cuba’s exceptional education system has produced skilled professionals, it has failed to generate sufficient employment, leading to brain drain and migration. A conversation with a vintage cab driver sheds light on Cuba’s wage system, where higher education or specialisation does not necessarily guarantee a higher income—doctors are often paid less than drivers.

Meanwhile, dinner with college students underscores the enduring impact of the US embargo, which continues to disrupt daily life with power cuts and rationed water supplies. The younger generation, including Generation Alpha, struggles with limited access to basic necessities. “Many Cubans say they all want steady supplies of essential food items, including milk, medicines, cell phones, and batteries... The agony of not having much to choose from upsets ordinary people,” Ullekh notes.

​The book also revisits the capitalism versus socialism debate from a socio-economic perspective. “Allowing an experiment with socialism in Latin America to flourish and succeed is not in American interest,” the author writes, emphasising how external pressures shaped Cuba's socialist model.

​While Ullekh speaks of Cuba's economic trajectory, one can't help but draw a comparison with Nehruvian socialism in India. Both nations prioritised the development of public-sector enterprises to create egalitarian societies. However, India abandoned this path with the sixth five-year plan in the 1980s, adopting liberalisation, privatisation, and globalisation.  While Cuba held on strong to its socialist ways, the consequences of the Bay of Pigs invasion and the disintegration of the Soviet Union affected the economic model's success.

​Cuba’s commitment to building a welfare state, particularly in healthcare, shines through in the book. Despite struggling with basic utilities like water and power, Cuba boasts some of the best health indicators globally, including a remarkable doctor-patient ratio and low infant mortality rates. Ullekh’s discussions with top medical professionals and researchers reveal how necessity has driven innovation in Cuba. The country’s advancements in research on cancer drugs, Alzheimer’s treatments, and cholesterol-lowering medicines are remarkable. Notably, its progress in interferon drugs helped Cuba manage the COVID-19 pandemic far more effectively than its neighbour, the United States.

​While the chapters on Cuba's history, economics, and politics are engaging, the parallels drawn with Kerala make the book particularly endearing. One fascinating anecdote compares the reading habits of Kerala’s beedi workers in the late 20th century with the tradition of professional readers hired to read books, news, and speeches for Cuban workers since the mid-19th century.

​With a blend of personal anecdotes, historical insights, and thoughtful economic analysis, Mad About Cuba is a compelling narrative that weaves unexpected connections between Kerala and Cuba, offering a fresh perspective on two distinct yet ideologically intertwined regions.