Of course we love Cuba like a brother, but that doesn’t mean we can’t query the need to host their ‘army of white coats’

Cuban people, loving people; Here we are far from home; We will miss you, we shall love you; For the things you’ve done for us. So go the lyrics of a South African liberation struggle song. Those who know the struggle songbook know the songs are hardly ever about love. Composed at a time when the ANC and PAC dreamed of marching down the streets of Pretoria armed with weapons of war and forcefully taking over the Union Buildings, the songs are mostly about fighting.

The songs are hardly ever about other countries; when there are references to Angola, Lusaka or Maputo, it is in the context of saluting combatants and leaders who were in exile there.

Yet such is the political romance that is the relationship between the South African liberation movement and Cuba that there is an entire song dedicated to the tiny Caribbean island. Many other countries in Africa and across the world also stood firmly on the side of the liberation movement during the fight against apartheid, but none is spoken of as fondly as is the nation of the late Fidel Castro.

This affinity to Cuba remained strong long after apartheid was removed from our statute books. A number of new settlements in the post-apartheid SA were named after the island or Castro.

The relationship played itself out again this week in dramatic fashion following the arrival of 217 Cuban doctors to help the country fight the spread of Covid-19. Cabinet ministers were over the moon, some taking selfies with the arriving doctors in the background, others posting pictures of themselves in berets and T-shirts emblazoned with the Cuban flag.

For them and without doubt for scores of other South Africans, Cuba is an inspiration not only because of the active role it played in supporting liberation struggles in SA and other parts of the continent, but because — despite its underdog status — it has been able to survive crippling sanctions imposed on it by its superpower neighbour, the US.

So when other South Africans questioned the wisdom of seeking Cuba’s help when there were many medical professionals here at home who could have been roped in, they were roundly denounced.

A Cosatu-affiliated nurses’ union was condemned for breaking ranks with the federation’s ideological stance by raising concerns over the arrival of the Cuban “medical brigade”, which is also popularly known as the “army of white coats”.

While Cuba may have an impressive universal health-care system and its doctors may be among the best when it comes to community service, that does not mean that the presence of the 217 doctors should be allowed to pass without scrutiny.

Over the years Cuban doctors have been world leaders when it comes to humanitarian assistance during times of trouble, especially in poor countries. They were in the forefront of the humanitarian mission when Haiti was struck by a devastating earthquake a decade ago. They also played a huge role in the fight against Ebola when the deadly pandemic hit West Africa in 2014.

More recently, when it became clear that Italy was not able to handle the spread of the coronavirus within its shores, it was to Cuban doctors that it turned.

President Cyril Ramaphosa was well within his rights to ask for Cuban help when it became clear that SA would not escape the scourge of Covid-19, which had caused havoc in so many other countries around the world.

But that does not mean the South African Medical Association has no right to oppose the move on the basis that there are 15,000 doctors in the private sector who could easily have been called in to help their colleagues in the public sector.

Documents shared widely on social media, and which have not been disputed by the government, suggest that the state will spend a minimum of R440m to keep the Cubans here for 12 months.

The Cuban embassy in Pretoria took strong offence to suggestions that the South African government would be paying the salaries of the 217 doctors. It insists that the socialist island sends its “army of white coats” out of solidarity with humanity in distress in countries hit by pandemics like this one. But reports, admittedly from a hostile US and British media, suggest that sending doctors abroad has become a lucrative business for Havana.

Time Magazine, for instance, reported last year that “leasing health-care professionals” to foreign governments brings in about $11bn (R207bn) for Cuba each year.

Which probably explains why President Donald Trump’s administration — which insists on maintaining sanctions against the island nation — is actively discouraging other countries from welcoming the white-coat army.

Given the historic ties with Cuba, and the South African government’s commitment to help Havana counter its US-imposed isolation, it is understandable that Pretoria would seek to do business with the Cubans at every available opportunity.

But Pretoria should be open about it and not try to sell it as an altruistic act on the part of Havana.

The majority of South Africans surely do appreciate the role the Cubans played in support of the fight against apartheid. But this does not give those in power a blank cheque to do as they wish in solidarity with the Cuban cause. They still have a responsibility to explain the decision to import so many doctors from Cuba when there is no evidence that they have exhausted all local resources in the fight to contain Covid-19.