When the march ended, the blackout was still there

The march organized by Díaz-Canel along the Havana Malecón reflects the routine of a weary and resigned population. The worn-out slogans will not change a Cuba mired in blackouts and hardships.

Cubanos marchando / Malecón en apagón © Colage X/Encomil / Grok
Cubans marching / Malecón in blackoutPhoto © Colage X/Encomil / Grok

Related videos:

Today, Miguel Díaz-Canel once again organized a "March of the Combatant People" along the Malecón in Havana. As always, the participants were recruited from among workers in ministries, hospital employees, students, and members of the military units and MININT, herded to the march by party leaders, union representatives, or heads of the CDR. The same old choreography was repeated: flags held high, worn-out slogans like "Homeland or Death, We Shall Overcome!" and "Down with the Blockade!", along with that familiar mix of false euphoria and resignation that has become typical of these events.

Díaz-Canel aims to project control, but what he actually reveals is his fear. If the people were truly with him, there would be no need to force anyone to march or to mobilize military trucks.

However, what stands out is the attitude of many participants. Some are laughing, others are taking photos, and many seem to be enjoying the event as if it were some sort of public party. For some, it may be an opportunity to avoid working that day, to escape their routine confinement, or to reconnect with friends in the midst of the march. But what do these Cubans really hope to achieve by participating? Do they believe that those clichéd phrases and the same slogans they’ve been repeating for 65 years will change reality? Do they perhaps momentarily forget about their everyday misery, the power outages, the endless queues, and the lack of everything?

The answer is not straightforward, but one thing is clear: the power of routine and habit. For many, the march is simply another obligation, like going to work or attending a union meeting. They comply and endure. There’s no reflection, just mental fatigue. But there’s something even sadder: many have normalized humiliation. The anger has been lost. They don’t protest because they know there’s no room for it without consequences, and they’ve learned to live with the double standards: today they shout "Don’t mess with Cuba!" while knowing that tomorrow they won’t have money to buy a pound of rice or a carton of eggs.

Perhaps, for a few hours, some prefer to disconnect from reality and "play" at revolution, laughing, socializing, and feeling part of a "crowd," even though deep down they know that this crowd is made up of equally tired, equally frustrated, equally trapped individuals. It’s the "pretend" syndrome: they act as if they believe, as if they support, as if they participate. But do they really believe? Do they really support?

When the march ends, the mirage fades away. The participants return home and come face to face with the true Cuba: the dark streets due to power outages, the fans that don’t spin, the empty fridge, the scarcity of everything, and the anxiety of not knowing what will be eaten the next day.

The great irony is that the same people who marched today will be in line at the market tomorrow, cursing the very government they "supported" today with empty shouts.

The contrast between the march and reality is as grotesque as the official propaganda we will see tonight in the news. You will see Díaz-Canel smiling, holding the flag, proclaiming another "victory of the revolution." What they won’t mention is that when the march ended, the blackout was still ongoing. They won’t say it, but all Cubans know it.

COMMENT

Filed under:

Opinion article: The statements and opinions expressed in this article are solely the responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of CiberCuba.

Luis Flores

CEO and co-founder of CiberCuba.com. When I have time, I write opinion pieces about the Cuban reality from the perspective of an emigrant.