Every oath is, at the same time, a moral commitment. Whoever swears, whatever the context, pledges word and attitude, in the knowledge of the obstacles, of the sometimes immense challenges. That is why what is truly difficult, and at the same time honourable, is not the act of swearing an oath in itself, but rather to fully comply with what one has freely and spontaneously sworn.

Today is one of those days in which we remember an exceptional oath, which did not originate from one, but from millions of individual decisions which, combined in our sacred conscience as a people, subscribed to the collective will to follow without deviation the chosen path of justice, and to erect the ideological one as the main battlefield.

A barbaric act like few others had unleashed the indignation of this people. The kidnapping of a Cuban child, held against his will, separated from his father and family, crudely used as an object of exchange and bribes by the anti-Cuban mafia, by the bitter enemies of the Revolution, set the island on its feet.

The squares in every corner of the country were built as open tribunes, and the collective demand to Free Elián! was, at the same time, a denunciation against the Cuban Adjustment Act, a stimulus for the illegal departure of people, and against all the manoeuvres, always latent, to destabilise the nation.

It was in this context, and under Fidel’s leadership, that the Cuban people arrived on 19 February 2000 at the Mangos de Baraguá grove. The symbolism of the place, where Maceo’s revolutionary intransigence saved the honour of the Liberation Army, served as a source of inspiration and wise nourishment for a similar irreconcilable stance; this time in the face of a different enemy, but with the same principle that peace without freedom did not admit negotiations, and that offences against the dignity of this people would never go unnoticed.

COMMON CAUSE

With the firmness of that heroic Mambi leader, and knowing that he was the heir and continuator of his life in another time, Fidel raised his voice on that glorious day. Many truths became clear then. «The struggle for the return of the kidnapped Cuban child became the first episode of a much longer struggle (…) it marks the point at which the great battle ahead of us is unleashed to put an end to the causes that have given rise to such a cruel and painful event. What would the simple return of this child be worth if tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, any day of any week, any month or any year, another Elián, dozens of Elianes, hundreds of Elianes, thousands of Elianes, could disappear in the turbulent waters?

We will never forget the cause that united us. The images of the mass rallies, of a

Fidel standing firm in the pouring rain, with the people at his side. Elián’s was the empty desk in every Cuban classroom, and his companions were all the children of this land.

That tireless battle bore the best of fruits. That little village boy was able to grow up next to his father, he was able to embrace the main architect of every day of his absence. But just as we had sworn, his return was not an end, it was another beginning, and after the months in which we never rested, we understood once again that unity was the foundation of our strength.

OATH FOR TODAY

Twenty-five years later, every letter signed by the people of Cuba in the Baraguá Oath is still valid, just as the blockade, the campaign to discredit the social work we defend, the harassment of our younger generations so that they renounce their identity, and with it, the feeling of Cuban citizenship, are still in force.

The context is adverse, not only because of the way in which «the good neighbours» have stepped up their hostilities against Cuba, but also because of the enormous differences that are looming in our world, the instability of powers, and the extreme fragility of peace.

Reality is convulsive, and that is why the determination that accompanies us is all the greater. Overcoming, rebuilding, re-founding with a shared effort, without losing our essence or roots, is a conviction that summons us, occupies us and strengthens us.

Going back to that memorable day, we understand that the words spoken there could well have been written today, because they are, more than lines on paper, a translation of what we are, of the values that distinguish us, of our way of being and living. There is no need for excessive abstraction to feel the voice of the Commander saying, once again:

«Cuba discovers itself, its geography, its history, its cultivated intelligences, its children, its young people, its teachers, its doctors, its professionals, its enormous human work (…); it trusts more than ever in itself; it understands its modest but fruitful and promising role in today’s world. Its invincible weapons are its revolutionary, humanist and universal ideas».

The Oath of Baraguá was, and still is, the confirmation that Cuba has never conceived sovereignty and progress if, as Martí once warned us, it does not also contribute to the sovereignty and progress of others. We have even become the voice of those who have no voice, and this shows that our oath was also an attitude taken towards others, the humble, the unprotected.

We are still on trial, and we know it, but resignation is not written in our genes. As they once did in the most complex days of the demand for the return of Elián, they are once again betting on tiredness, on suffocation, on ever more inhuman pressures, «How badly they know our people!

An oath like that one, which we signed out of love and conviction, which we embraced out of patriotic heritage and sense of justice, which we keep intact, out of duty and commitment to history, will never be a dead letter that an invader can trample underfoot.

That immense man knew it well: «Our struggle will take a thousand different forms and styles. The masses will always be ready; the transmission of the message will be permanent, the forces and energies will continue to be accumulated and saved for every necessary or decisive minute».

If by now they have not understood this, if they still insist on the lost cause, it is out of sheer arrogance and wounded pride. Our oath was yet another proof of their failure, and we took it from Baraguá, because with those who threaten the freedom of the Homeland, rest assured: «We do not understand each other!»