Related videos:
The phrase used by Jeremy Lewin —“the regime must return these resources to the Cuban people”— opens a discussion that, until a few years ago, seemed reserved for purely theoretical scenarios: could GAESA's international assets someday become the financial foundation for a Cuban transition?
The question is not trivial. Modern political transitions often face an immediate problem: how to financially support the basic functioning of the State while reorganizing institutions, stabilizing internal security, and trying to avoid administrative collapse.
In many countries, the initial survival of transitional governments relied precisely on extraordinary funds, international aid, or assets recovered from the former power structures.
That background explains why some analysts believe that the current pressure on GAESA might have an additional component: beginning to build the financial foundations for a potential “day after” in Cuba.
If such a scenario were to occur, one of the primary priorities would be to ensure minimal institutional continuity. This would include salaries for public officials, healthcare personnel, electrical technicians, civil administration, basic services, and urgent imports of food and fuel.
Without immediate liquidity, even a politically successful transition could quickly lead to administrative chaos.
But perhaps the most delicate challenge would be internal security.
Every transition faces the issue of what to do with the coercive apparatus of the old regime. In the Cuban case, the debate would inevitably include structures linked to MININT, intelligence agencies, and military sectors associated with GAESA.
International experiences show that completely dismantling these apparatuses abruptly can pose severe risks of instability. For this reason, numerous transition processes have resorted to intermediate solutions: gradual reforms, partial integration of personnel not involved in serious violations, and retirement or demobilization programs funded by the state itself.
South Africa, some Eastern European countries, and even Latin American processes following military dictatorships used similar mechanisms to prevent violent fractures.
In a hypothetical scenario for Cuba, part of the recovered assets could be specifically allocated to that goal: to finance early retirements, mandatory retirements, or compensations for officials and employees not directly linked to verified violent crimes or repression.
The logic behind these measures would not be to reward repressive structures, but rather to reduce incentives for destabilizing internal resistance.
Another possible destination for those resources would be the creation of new, professionalized police and security forces. Any transitional government would need to quickly build structures capable of ensuring public order, border control, and institutional security without reproducing the repressive methods of the previous apparatus.
That would require:
- training
- competitive salaries
- supervision
- technological modernization
- and possibly international cooperation.
It would also inevitably raise the issue of reparations.
One of the major debates in contemporary transitional justice revolves around how to compensate victims of political persecution, confiscations, imprisonment, or state violence.
Chile, Argentina, Germany after reunification, and other international processes developed programs for economic compensation and institutional recognition for sectors affected by repression.
In Cuba, such a scenario could include:
- political prisoners
- family members of victims
- affected by confiscations;
- exiles
- people with physical or psychological consequences resulting from repression;
- and victims of episodes like 11J.
The problem is that the potential needs would be enormous, and the resources, even in the best-case scenario, would likely be limited in light of the accumulated deterioration of the Cuban economy.
There appears another central difficulty: who would manage those funds.
International experience shows that the legitimacy of the process is as important as the actual recovery of assets.
A fund controlled solely from the outside could generate internal rejection. However, a completely improvised administration within Cuba would also face risks of corruption, political capture, or power struggles.
That's why some international models resorted to mixed mechanisms:
- international supervision
- external audits
- trust funds
- and participation of multilateral organizations.
None of that would be straightforward in the Cuban case.
Additionally, there would be enormous legal challenges. Foreign banks, creditors, partner companies, and other involved parties could spend years disputing ownership of assets linked to GAESA.
A significant portion of the funds could remain frozen in international litigation before effectively reaching any Cuban administration.
Even so, the discussion seems to have reached a new level.
For decades, the international debate surrounding Cuba focused on sanctions, embargoes, and diplomatic pressure. Lewin's phrase introduces another dimension: the idea that the wealth accumulated by the Cuban military conglomerate could one day become a tool for national reconstruction.
That does not mean there is a defined plan or an imminent transition. But it does suggest something politically significant: Washington is beginning to talk not only about punishing the regime but also about how the country might eventually finance itself after it.
And perhaps there lies the true meaning of the phrase "return the resources to the Cuban people": not only in the economic punishment of a military elite, but in the possibility of transforming those resources into the financial foundation for a future reorganization of the Cuban state.
Filed under: