Elián González

Fidel Castro with Gonzalez after his return to Cuba

AP

The Elián story began like Greek mythology. A young mother decided to brave 90 miles of deep sea to bring her son to freedom, then died before she could reach the shore. The South Florida community embraced this child like their own. When the federal government got involved, the community surrounded his house with 10,000 people and said no—no matter how much Castro huffed and puffed, they would not give the little boy back. When the SWAT team came, it broke the heart of that community, and it made them hate Bill Clinton with every ounce of their energy. One day a few years later, Clinton caught me off guard with an unexpected phone call to my home. It was right before an election, so he was reaching out to Hispanic TV programs to talk up Democratic campaigns. He had a quick line he wanted to deliver. But standing there in my underwear, I brought up Elián, because it was my one chance as a Cuban-American to challenge him on the debacle. Forty-five minutes later, we were still caught in the most hellish argument of my life. That’s the thing about the Elián story; inevitably, it brings out that sense of combativeness in everyone who encounters it. As a Cuban-American, there’s still a part of me that truly believes the U.S. government was bamboozled by Castro, who nakedly treated it as an opportunity for his own aggrandizement. If America had stood up to him, we all would have been better in the end.