Last month in Guadalajara, Mexico, there was one of the largest book fairs in the Spanish speaking world: the 16th FeriaInternational del Libro. Every year, this fair designates one country as its "guest of honor," giving special attention to its publications and writers. This time around the guest of honor was Cuba.

There were two reasons for Cuba's selection. First, there is no question that Cuban literature and its publishing industry are of high quality. Secondly, a famous Cuban writer, Cintio Vitier, just obtained the Juan Rulfo award, a high achievement in Latin American literary circles. For these reasons, the Cuban government sent a 600-member delegation to participate in the Guadalajara International Book Fair, including the speaker of the Cuban Parliament and the minister of culture.

All this would be fine, but for one problem: Cuban contemporary literature is divided, following political lines, into two parts: inside the island and in exile. The latter, with no official support, is less well known or acknowledged. But it includes famous novelists such as Guillermo Cabrera Infante, winner of the Premio Cervantes (the Spanish literature equivalent of the Nobel) and poets like Reynaldo Arenas, both exiled for many years.

A delicate and tense situation arose when exiled Cuban writers, poets and publishers also sent their delegation to the Guadalajara book fair and presented their work at several sessions and exhibits. During the presentation of the magazine Letras Libres (Free Letters), a group disrupted the session - shouting, calling the panelists names, even physically assaulting them.

The disruptive incidents were repeated during the presentation of Revista Encuentro (Re-Encounter), a magazine published in Madrid that includes articles from writers both inside and outside Cuba, sustaining pro- and anti-government positions.

Exiled writers and publishers were accused of being "traitors and American CIA stooges" because they received support from American and European foundations, among other sources. These foundations, however, also support literary efforts by Cuban government agencies such as the National Library and the Cuban writers' guild.

The importance of these unfortunate incidents that tarnished the larger achievements of this prestigious Latin American cultural event lies in the philosophy that drives them. Inside Cuba, Castro's government rules the literary world, just as it rules everything else. When someone disagrees, the consequence is banning, ostracism, jail or exile. They tried the same strategy at Guadalajara.

It all started in 1961 with a famous Castro speech to Cuban intellectuals in which he pronounced that "within the revolution, everything; outside the revolution, nothing!" However, Castro very conveniently left open the definition of "revolution." This has allowed him to control or direct all Cuban literary production ever since.

For example, Heberto Padilla was sent to prison in 1970, after an infamous trial, for his award-winning poetry book. Arenas, whose famous novels and poems are banned in Cuba, had to leave during the Mariel Boatlift. I myself was arrested and indicted in 1979, when the Cuban government found my manuscripts. My crime consisted of writing and publishing, outside Cuba under a pen name, two story books about the forced-labor camps - books well-received by American literary critics.

The Cuban government at Guadalajara was forced to confront two issues it cannot handle: first, the recognition that Cuban literature outside Cuba grows stronger every day; secondly, and even worse, the rise of literary magazines, free forums where Cubans of all persuasions can participate. The possibility of contacts and rapprochement between Cubans is anathema - it could lead to a peaceful transition!

The Guadalajara book fair has been a positive, eye-opening experience. It has showcased the peculiar situation of Cuban literature. It also has pointed out the direction to follow. Jorge Luis Romeu lives in Syracuse and is a member of the Cuban PEN Club in Exile.