This wasn’t the first time I sat behind a microphone with Cuban Americans and asked them to talk about socialism.
Before my recent conversation on Hudson Valley Focus, I had welcomed Cuban Americans onto my show for an earlier discussion about something that, for them, isn’t an abstract political philosophy, a campaign slogan, or the subject of a spirited debate over cocktails.
It is part of their history.
And listening back to that first appearance, I’m struck by how relevant their words are today.
That first conversation wasn’t about scoring political points. I wanted to hear directly from people whose families understood what happens when the promises of socialism collide with the realities of government power.
They talked about Cuba.
They talked about what their families experienced.
They talked about the promises that accompanied the Cuban Revolution—and what happened after those promises gave way to a one-party communist state, political repression, restrictions on speech and private enterprise, and generations of people willing to leave behind their homes and possessions for the chance to live somewhere else.
There is something different about hearing history from someone who carries it in their family.
It’s one thing to read about Fidel Castro in a textbook.
It’s another to sit across from Cuban Americans and hear what Castro and the revolution meant around their kitchen tables.
And that is why I believe their first conversation with me is worth hearing again.
Especially now.
Here in the Hudson Valley, the Democratic Socialists of America are organizing, holding events and promoting an ideology they believe offers solutions to economic inequality, housing costs, healthcare and the growing frustration many Americans feel toward government and corporate institutions.
They have every right to make that case.
But those of us who are skeptical have every right to ask questions.
And perhaps the most important question is this:
What can history teach us?
Supporters of democratic socialism will correctly point out that what they advocate is not Fidel Castro’s Cuba.
That’s an important distinction, and serious political discussion requires acknowledging it.
But acknowledging that distinction shouldn’t end the conversation.
It should begin one.
Because the Cuban Americans who joined me weren’t warning about an American political organization. They were warning about something much larger: the danger of becoming so captivated by the promise of a political ideology that we stop asking where concentrations of government power can ultimately lead.
Listen to how socialism was originally presented to the Cuban people.
Listen to the language of equality.
Listen to the promises of justice.
Listen to the assurances that ordinary working people would finally have a government standing on their side.
Then listen to what happened next.
That doesn’t mean every government program is socialism.
It doesn’t mean every person calling themselves a democratic socialist secretly wants communism.
And it certainly doesn’t mean America is destined to become Cuba.
It means history deserves a voice in the conversation.
And Cuban Americans have earned the right to be among those voices.
That is what made their first appearance with me so compelling—and why I invited Cuban Americans back to continue the discussion.
Their perspective wasn’t theoretical.
It was inherited through parents and grandparents, through stories of what was lost, through families separated and lives rebuilt in a country that offered something Cuba eventually could not:
The freedom to disagree with the government.
So here’s my invitation to members of the Democratic Socialists of America, including those organizing here in the Hudson Valley:
Listen to that first broadcast.
Then listen to the latest one.
Don’t listen because I expect you to suddenly abandon everything you believe.
Listen because a political movement confident in its ideas shouldn’t be afraid of hearing from people whose history challenges them.
Maybe you’ll disagree.
Maybe you’ll say America is different.
Maybe you’ll insist democratic socialism bears little resemblance to Castro’s Cuba.
Fine.
Then let’s have that debate.
But don’t dismiss the Cuban experience simply because it makes the conversation uncomfortable.
Because before socialism became something Americans could discuss over “cocktails with comrades,” there were families who heard many of its most attractive promises before.
And some of those families eventually risked everything to escape what followed.
They told that story on my show once before.
It’s worth listening to again.
The Valley Viewpoint
Your towns. Your schools. Your politics.
The Valley Viewpoint 