I don't profess to have any religion, but if I did, my God would

Hear, O listener of history’s tides, the impassioned words of Elian Gonzalez: “I don't profess to have any religion, but if I did, my God would be Fidel Castro. He is like a ship that knew to take his crew on the right path.” These words, spoken by one whose childhood was marked by exile, struggle, and political fire, reveal a truth both personal and collective. For Elian, the figure of Fidel was not merely a leader, but a symbol of direction, of survival, of destiny—one who charted a course through storm and uncertainty, as a captain does for his crew.

Consider first the renunciation: “I don’t profess to have any religion.” Here we see the voice of one who does not bow to temples, nor to sacred texts, nor to the rituals of the faithful. And yet, even in the absence of formal religion, the human soul seeks figures to embody meaning, loyalty, and hope. Thus, Elian turns to Fidel Castro, not as a deity of heaven, but as a god of earth—a mortal leader elevated into the realm of myth because of his role in shaping the lives and futures of his people.

The image of Castro as a ship is powerful. A ship is not merely wood and sail; it is the vessel that carries a people across waters dangerous and vast. The sea represents chaos, exile, uncertainty, and the threat of ruin. To say that Fidel was “like a ship” is to say that he carried his crew—his nation—through storms, choosing paths that others could not see, and keeping them afloat when the waves of history threatened to drown them. To those who followed him, he was not simply a politician, but a helmsman of fate.

History bears witness to this imagery. After the Cuban Revolution of 1959, Fidel Castro became both a beacon and a barrier. To some, he was the one who freed Cuba from corruption, illiteracy, and foreign domination. To others, he was the one who closed doors and demanded sacrifice. Yet to young Elian, raised within the story of Cuba’s defiance, Castro appeared as a protector, a figure who guided his island through the storms of embargo and isolation. In this, Elian’s words echo the ancient way of seeing leaders as chosen by destiny, their greatness mythologized into almost divine stature.

The meaning of this quote stretches beyond politics. It speaks of the human need for guides—figures who, whether religious or secular, embody the values and direction we long for in our lives. When Elian names Castro his “God,” he reveals how faith can take many forms. Where one person finds divinity in prophets, another may find it in heroes, leaders, or even in the memory of those who stood firm in times of trial. To call someone your God is to declare that they embody for you the path, the truth, the compass by which to steer your life.

Yet there is also a lesson of caution. To elevate mortals into gods is to risk forgetting their flaws, their humanity, and the complexity of their deeds. Castro, like all leaders, was both praised and condemned. His ship carried many to safety, but it also demanded sacrifice from countless others. The wisdom here is not to judge Elian’s devotion, but to see how the human heart transforms leaders into symbols, how the yearning for guidance can turn into reverence, even worship.

The lesson for us is clear: seek your guides wisely. Look for leaders who chart the course with justice, who carry their people with compassion, who navigate not for themselves but for the crew. Honor those who inspire you, but do not lose your power of discernment. Remember that no leader is beyond question, and that even the greatest ships require many hands to sail. Let your devotion be tempered with wisdom, and your loyalty with truth.

Therefore, O child of the storm and the shore, remember Elian Gonzalez’s words: even without religion, the human heart seeks gods, and often finds them in those who guide us through peril. Be mindful of whom you call your captain, for in following them, you entrust them with your future. And may you, too, become a helmsman for others—a ship strong in the storm, carrying your crew on the right path.