Uncle Sam Celebrates The 4th In Havana

This article was written by CBSNews.com producer Michelle Peltier following a trip to Cuba to visit a family member who works for the U.S. State Department in Havana.

Every July, every U.S. embassy in the world throws a big Independence Day bash. Filling a diplomatic role similar to that of an embassy, the U.S. Interests Section in Havana (USIS) celebrates the occasion as well. Only here, as in few other places, the decision to attend the festivities can be tantamount to making an overt political statement.

In addition to the usual collection of foreign ambassadors and journalists, invites are also sent out to dissidents, artists and pro-democracy advocates who have been critical of the Castro version of a perfect society.

No one expects everybody on the guest list to show up, but in Cuba the promise of free food, an open bar and permission to speak freely are pretty tempting draws.

In past years, the presence of Cuban nationals at this event has been grudgingly tolerated by the government and perhaps even seen as an opportunity to identify potential troublemakers by watching to see who attends. This year however, there were early indications that the new Raul Castro administration might flex its muscles by staging an ideological showdown at Uncle Sam's backyard barbeque.

As it marked one of the last official duties for Michael Parmly, the State Department's departing Havana mission chief, the event was weighted with political symbolism. The U.S. relationship with the Cuban government has grown strained over the last three years. The U.S. has often piqued the leadership by cultivating contacts with dissenters and hosting events designed to create ties with Cuban youth.

The most recent imbroglio occurred in May, after Cuba accused Parmly of "scandalous and illegal conduct" for allegedly bringing mail back from the United States to the "Ladies in White," an opposition group whose all-white clothing marks them as the wives of dissidents imprisoned in 2003. Cuba consistently denies that it holds any political prisoners.

In the week before the party, a flurry of e-mails and phone calls, presumed to originate from the Ministry of Culture, warned those invited to the party that it was not in their best interest to attend, according to interviews with a dozen Cubans who were invited to the birthday bash.

A letter from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, published in the state sponsored newspaper Granma, cautioned readers that the "…USIS is planning to organize other illegal activities, and is instigating its mercenaries in Cuba to carry out provocative actions in public streets around the 4th of July…"

Late Wednesday afternoon, Augustin Bejarano and his wife Aziyade Ruiz, both respected artists who received their education under the auspices of the Cuban state, shared their plans to have dinner with Parmly at the residence that night, but they didn't show up for the meal.

Agence France-Press reported that as many as 35 dissidents known to have contact with Americans were arrested and detained on Thursday, the day before the birthday bash. The news agency quoted economist Martha Beatriz Roque of the rights group Agenda for the Transition, as saying that most of those people had been freed by Saturday.

Half an hour before the July 4 party was scheduled to begin, police were stationed in the center of the turn-off to the residence from Havana's elegant Fifth Avenue. The gray uniformed men reluctantly moved aside when approached by official vehicles with distinctive black diplomatic license plates.

Along the remainder of the mile-long drive to the section chief's residence, the only other cars on the road were those of the police, parked at every intersection. Small groups of people in festive dresses and linen guayabera shirts walked along the side of the road in the direction of the event.

One State Department official said that the extra security and blocked roads were due to a simultaneous Cuban government event at the nearby Palacio De La Convenciones, but he added a familiar Havana refrain saying, "There are no coincidences in Cuba."

"This is a special day for Americans, this is a special day for Americans living here," Interests Section Chief Parmly told his foreign service officers while they waited to see how many guests would arrive. "Even if no one else is here tonight, I want you all to have a good time."

He went on to suggest that if there were not enough guests to eat all of the food, they would distribute it into the community themselves, perhaps making a sharper political point in the process than the party itself.

As the guests began to trickle in, it became clear that there would be both a strong international presence as well as significant Cuban representation. Some of the guests had secure, public connections to the Communist party, but others were just as publicly opposed to the Castro regime and had the prison records to prove it.

"My name is Eduardo and I am a dissident," one guest modestly introduced himself in hesitant English, as if showing off a badge of honor. None of the Cubans seemed nervous about being at the party or overtly uncomfortable at being captured on film by the roving official photographer. Actually, most of the local guests seemed eager to be photographed with their American friends.

One of the Cuban Foreign Ministry's biggest complaints is the free Internet access that the United States offers to Cubans inside the interest section's building. That right to access the Internet was one of the main points Parmly highlighted in his speech to partygoers.

"It is no coincidence that the world's non-democratic governments look for any excuse to block or limit access to the Internet," Parmly told his guests in Spanish, "precisely because the Internet allows people to think for themselves, communicate, exchange ideas, be creative and investigate countless issues."

In lieu of fireworks, red, white and blue balloons and star-shaped glitter were released from an upper terrace. It was remarkable to see how quickly guests scrambled to scoop up handfuls of the tiny foil decorations to take home with them. The souvenirs that the U.S. government hopes will be most useful though are the party favors that were handed out as guests departed - thumb-size portable USB drives.

The average dissident may simply have less to lose than the artists or writers, who for the most part must have decided that it was more prudent to stay home. A painter who has achieved some level of commercial success and has been granted the right to represent Cuba on the international stage may hesitate to risk the loss of those privileges.

There is an allure in grasping for the forbidden fruit of freedom that the Americans are selling, but for Cubans who have already learned to negotiate some degree of autonomy within the system, there's a level of skepticism towards promises made by any country's government.

It is also important to remember as an outsider in Cuba, it is sometimes impossible to see past the confusing smoke and mirrors of the current political situation. The brave political opponent who defies his government and risks persecution to hear the Star Spangled Banner, could very well simply be playing that role in order to maintain a front row seat at what the American "imperialistas" are up to now.

In the end, around 650 guests attended the Independence Day party. That is about 200 fewer people than last year's party, even though this year's invite list was significantly longer.

The new chief of mission, Jonathan Farrar, will be arriving soon in Cuba to try his hand at waging cold war in the tropics, but considering that his last stint at State was at the helm of the bureau dealing with democracy and human rights issues, it's unlikely that the reception in Havana will be appreciably warmer.