San Diego Union-Tribune (Opinion) by Ruben Navarrette: Now that we've had the first round of commentary about a Cuban-American senator and his family history, it's time to dig deeper and acknowledge what is really driving this controversy.
This is it: Marco Rubio is the new Elian Gonzalez.
Not since fishermen found a 5-year-old Cuban boy floating in an inner tube off the Florida coast in November 1999 have relations been this tense between Cuban-Americans and Mexican-Americans. As the country argued over whether Elian should be returned to his Cuban father or remain with his Miami relatives, the two groups were on opposite sides.
For Cuban-Americans who thought Elian should stay here, the issue was freedom. For Mexican-Americans who wanted the boy reunited with his father, the issue was family values.
Back then, I occupied some real estate that was pretty unique: a Mexican-American who agreed with Cuban-Americans.
Now, the familia is feuding again. For that, we can thank the Florida senator. The 40-year-old Republican rock star - who has become, in GOP circles, the most popular Latino since Ricardo Montalban welcomed guests onto Fantasy Island - has been both sloppy in how he relays his family's oral history and opportunistic in how he approaches the immigration issue. Those two things collided recently.
Rubio has advertised that his parents, Mario and Oriales, arrived in Florida after Fidel Castro took power in 1959, but documents recently brought to light by The Washington Post and St. Petersburg Times show that his parents arrived as early as 1956. They were economic immigrants, not political exiles.
Many Americans whose ancestry is neither Cuban nor Mexican may be wondering what the fuss is about.
Some say this story is really about politics, an attempt by Democrats and the liberal media to damage Rubio because he's a threat. Others say Rubio should be more careful with the facts. Both groups are correct.
But what this is really about is the Cuban-Mexican thing. Rubio is in hot water with Mexican-Americans to the point where the smartest thing a Republican presidential nominee could do is not choose him as a running mate unless he wants to see half the Southwest turn out just to vote against the GOP ticket.
In 2009, Rubio insisted: "Nothing against immigrants but my parents are exiles." On election night in 2010, he doubled down with this: "I've been raised in a community of exiles, of people who lost their country, of people who know what it's like to live somewhere else. And by the way, a community that I am proud to be a part of. ... No matter where I go or what title I may achieve, I will always be the son of exiles."
By going out of his way to distinguish the experience of his family and community from that of those who come to the United States for economic reasons - most of them from Mexico - Rubio played into a dynamic that has been around since Cuban-Americans started arriving in large numbers during the 1960s.
Cuban-Americans represent about 3 percent of the nation's 50 million Latinos, a tiny tribe compared to the 67 percent made up of Mexicans and Mexican-Americans. Yet, they are better educated, wealthier and have more political power.
Unfortunately, Cuban-Americans also have a reputation for looking down their noses at their hard-working but often less-successful distant relatives. Of course, Cuban-Americans do get a big head start: automatic legal status under that Cold War relic, the 1966 Cuban Adjustment Act.
Almost 20 years ago, while co-hosting a radio show in Los Angeles, I had a meeting with a Cuban-American producer in Hollywood. She wanted to know where I saw myself in the next few years, and so I laid out an ambitious career path. She looked confused.
"You have some high goals," she blurted out. "That doesn't sound very Mexican."
In her worldview, Mexicans were humble, complacent and willing to settle for less. They parked your car, cleaned your house, cut your lawn, and raised your kids. Here I was, dreaming big. To her, this was the sort of thing you might expect from a Cuban-American. Not a Mexican-American.
One day, Castro will die. Congress should mark the occasion by repealing the Cuban Adjustment Act. Then, Cubans who come to this country wouldn't be exiles but immigrants, and they could start where most Mexican immigrants do - at the bottom.
That just might give their descendants, people like Marco Rubio, something they've been lacking: humility.
This is it: Marco Rubio is the new Elian Gonzalez.
Not since fishermen found a 5-year-old Cuban boy floating in an inner tube off the Florida coast in November 1999 have relations been this tense between Cuban-Americans and Mexican-Americans. As the country argued over whether Elian should be returned to his Cuban father or remain with his Miami relatives, the two groups were on opposite sides.
For Cuban-Americans who thought Elian should stay here, the issue was freedom. For Mexican-Americans who wanted the boy reunited with his father, the issue was family values.
Back then, I occupied some real estate that was pretty unique: a Mexican-American who agreed with Cuban-Americans.
Now, the familia is feuding again. For that, we can thank the Florida senator. The 40-year-old Republican rock star - who has become, in GOP circles, the most popular Latino since Ricardo Montalban welcomed guests onto Fantasy Island - has been both sloppy in how he relays his family's oral history and opportunistic in how he approaches the immigration issue. Those two things collided recently.
Rubio has advertised that his parents, Mario and Oriales, arrived in Florida after Fidel Castro took power in 1959, but documents recently brought to light by The Washington Post and St. Petersburg Times show that his parents arrived as early as 1956. They were economic immigrants, not political exiles.
Many Americans whose ancestry is neither Cuban nor Mexican may be wondering what the fuss is about.
Some say this story is really about politics, an attempt by Democrats and the liberal media to damage Rubio because he's a threat. Others say Rubio should be more careful with the facts. Both groups are correct.
But what this is really about is the Cuban-Mexican thing. Rubio is in hot water with Mexican-Americans to the point where the smartest thing a Republican presidential nominee could do is not choose him as a running mate unless he wants to see half the Southwest turn out just to vote against the GOP ticket.
In 2009, Rubio insisted: "Nothing against immigrants but my parents are exiles." On election night in 2010, he doubled down with this: "I've been raised in a community of exiles, of people who lost their country, of people who know what it's like to live somewhere else. And by the way, a community that I am proud to be a part of. ... No matter where I go or what title I may achieve, I will always be the son of exiles."
By going out of his way to distinguish the experience of his family and community from that of those who come to the United States for economic reasons - most of them from Mexico - Rubio played into a dynamic that has been around since Cuban-Americans started arriving in large numbers during the 1960s.
Cuban-Americans represent about 3 percent of the nation's 50 million Latinos, a tiny tribe compared to the 67 percent made up of Mexicans and Mexican-Americans. Yet, they are better educated, wealthier and have more political power.
Unfortunately, Cuban-Americans also have a reputation for looking down their noses at their hard-working but often less-successful distant relatives. Of course, Cuban-Americans do get a big head start: automatic legal status under that Cold War relic, the 1966 Cuban Adjustment Act.
Almost 20 years ago, while co-hosting a radio show in Los Angeles, I had a meeting with a Cuban-American producer in Hollywood. She wanted to know where I saw myself in the next few years, and so I laid out an ambitious career path. She looked confused.
"You have some high goals," she blurted out. "That doesn't sound very Mexican."
In her worldview, Mexicans were humble, complacent and willing to settle for less. They parked your car, cleaned your house, cut your lawn, and raised your kids. Here I was, dreaming big. To her, this was the sort of thing you might expect from a Cuban-American. Not a Mexican-American.
One day, Castro will die. Congress should mark the occasion by repealing the Cuban Adjustment Act. Then, Cubans who come to this country wouldn't be exiles but immigrants, and they could start where most Mexican immigrants do - at the bottom.
That just might give their descendants, people like Marco Rubio, something they've been lacking: humility.
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