On the other side of Havana from the pomp and ceremony that surrounds Barack Obama’s speech at the Gran Teatro Alicia Alonso, two Cuban democracy activists are glaring at the president’s image on a grainy television screen.

As he speaks, they fume. The more the US diplomat-in-chief ingratiates himself with his audience, the more frustrated they become. When he mentions “change” or “reconciliation”, they sigh in exasperation.



In short, Ailer González and Claudio Fuentes – both members of the Forum for Rights and Freedom – are furious. After years of struggle against the one-party state and the Castro brothers, they feel the leader of the free world has let them down by making friends with their enemy.



Ailer González, a member of the Forum for Rights and Freedom, a political dissident in Cuba shows off her bruise. Photograph: Jonathan Watts/The Guardian

González has the bruises to prove that, for them, the battle is by no means over. By her left eye, there is a small purple mark, her back and shoulder are grazed, and there is an arm missing from her glasses – souvenirs from the beating she and her husband took the day before when they tried to visit the neighbouring hotel to get online. (Like the vast majority of Cuban households, they have no internet at home.)

The wounds could as easily have come from a protest on Sunday – shortly before Obama arrived – when they and dozens of other activists were dragged away from a regular protest, thrown in police cars and buses, and detained for a few hours.

Her husband, Antonio Rodiles, is not with her this morning. He is among a group of 13 civil society activists invited to a meeting with Obama after his speech. To make sure that they can get there without being blocked by police – as was the case during last September’s visit by Pope Francis – the US embassy sent cars to pick them up.



González and Rodiles have a reputation for being among the more uncompromising figures in the broad opposition movement, which is itself more radical than the majority of the Cuban population. Or so it is generally assumed: opinion polls are not permitted on the island.



From the beginning, they have been critical of Obama’s deal with Castro. For them, the rapprochement process has seen the US give and give, without getting anything of substance in return. The release of political prisoners is, they say, illusory because convictions continue to hang over the heads of those freed from jail and allowed back on the streets.

Closer transport links and relaxations of currency controls are, they believe, extending the longevity of the “dictatorship” which can secure more tourist dollars and foreign investment. The presidential visit is not a step forward in their eyes; it is a legitimisation of the “Castro regime” and a sign of Obama’s softness. It is safe to say they are predisposed to dislike.



Early in his speech, Obama works on winning over his audience. The oratorial master pushes all the right buttons. He opens with a Spanish “muchas gracias”, quotes José Martí (the intellectual father of Cuban independence), and then relates a troubled bilateral history through engaging personal anecdotes and family references.

This passage climaxes with a powerful one-liner: “I have come to bury the last remnant of the cold war in the Americas.”



It fails to impress González. “This way of speaking reminds me of Fidel. Long-winded and dodging the real issues,” she says.

Her frustration at Obama’s rhetorical finesse only grows as the president runs through a long list of shared feelgood references: Ernest Hemingway, Jackie Robinson, Muhammad Ali, the boxer Teófilo Stevenson, the singers Celia Cruz and Gloria Estefan, Christianity, cha-cha-cha and salsa.



Then, having shown how much the two nations have in common, the president moves from the culturally sweet to the politically sour.

“We should not ignore the very real differences we have,” he says. “Cuba has a one-party system. The United States is a multi-party democracy. Cuba has a socialist economic model. The United States is an open market. Cuba has emphasised the role and rights of the state, the United States is founded upon the rights of the individual.”



The activists listen attentively. But they are soon agitated again as Obama lists the measures taken so far to improve relations, which he justifies with a reference to Martin Luther King and the fierce urgency of now.

“We should not fear change, we should embrace it,” the president says to applause in the Grand Theatre. “I believe in the Cuban people. This is not just a policy of normalising relations with the Cuban government. The United States of America is normalising relations with the Cuban people.”



Ailer González and Claudio Fuentes watch Obama’s speech in Havana. Photograph: Jonathan Watts/The Guardian

González is indignant. “What the hell! If you talk of change, change the regime!” she says. “This is not reality, it is Obama’s vision of the future. Who does he think he is? A guru? This speech is a gift to Raúl Castro.”



The president then talks of incipient changes in the relationship – more space for business, looser travel restrictions, cooperation on medical research – then lands another rhetorical tug on the heartstrings. “As president of the United States, I’ve called on our Congress to lift the embargo.”



González sighs. She feels the White House is giving up too much without preconditions, undermining the work done by democracy activists.

Obama, now fully in his stride, hits the harder points. This is the fulcrum of his speech. I’m Cuba’s friend, he says, but you can do more on internet availability, on investment opportunities, on job creation, on exchanging ideas. “Citizens should be free to speak their mind without fear, to organise and criticise their government and to protest peacefully, and the rule of law should not include arbitrary detentions of people who exercise those rights … And yes, I believe voters should be able to choose their government in free and democratic elections.”



González nods in agreement. “This is the only good part so far,” she says approvingly. “But there is a difference between saying ‘I believe in this’, and stating, ‘Look, this is what is actually happening in Cuba now.’”



The brief meeting of minds does not last. Obama cracks a joke, saying Raúl Castro has a longer list of criticisms of the US than he does of Cuba. He then appeals for sympathy and admiration. “Somebody like me, a child who was raised by a single mom, a child of mixed race who did not have a lot of money to pursue and achieve the highest office in the land,” followed by the punchline: “That’s what’s possible in America.”



The dissident is quiet at this point. She is waiting for more. But the president is winding down with an appeal to Cubans to build something new, – with a reassurance to Castro, a call of unity, and a proclamation of a new era.



“The reconciliation of the Cuban people, the children and grandchildren of the revolution and the children and grandchildren of exile, that’s fundamental to Cuba’s future,” Obama proclaims. “It is time for us to leave the past behind. It is time for us to look forward to the future together.”



This prompts more anger. “How can he talk of a new era when we are stuck with the same old dictator. It’s a contradiction,” González exclaims. “And how can we forget the past when there is no justice, no talk of who created all this pain in the first place.”



Obama winds up with a little more Spanish, “Sí se puede” (Yes we can) and another “muchas gracias”, then goes off to applause and the strains of Guantanamera.



It is a triumphant climax in the theatre, but in the living room of the activist, Obama has lived down to low expectations. “That was a speech that will perpetuate the dictatorship. He didn’t challenge them. He didn’t mention the word ‘opposition’ even once. It was exactly what I expected from him. It was terrible.”



The disappointment was palpable and understandable. The dissident and the president have different perspectives and goals. González, like many democracy activists, is an ideological warrior who feels abandoned mid-battle. Obama is more intent on ending a war.



But there is far more in this dialogue than a single speech. After leaving the theatre, Obama heads to the embassy for a two-hour meeting with civil rights activists, including González’s husband Rodiles – and her friend, Berta Soler, the leader of the Ladies in White – who consist of wives and relatives of former political prisoners.

These two are in a minority in their opposition to the rapprochement process. And after their talk with the president, even they seem to tone down their hostility and to be willing to consider another approach.

Back at González’s home, there is a brief press conference. “We had a good meeting. The president listened and gave us time to say what we wanted to say,” says Rodiles. “We said before it was not the right time for him to visit. But it happened. Now let’s see what the result will be.”