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If someone had proposed thirty years ago the creation of private banks in Cuba, they would likely have been accused of advocating for a capitalist restoration.
If he had defended the buying and selling of shares in state-owned companies, the expansion of large private enterprises, or the liberalization of prices, he would have been labeled an ideological enemy of the "revolution."
If I had suggested that the country needed market mechanisms to survive, I would have heard long lectures on the evils of capitalism and the virtues of socialism.
Today, these measures are being pushed by the regime itself.
And the communists remain silent.
The National Assembly recently approved 176 economic transformations that include private financial institutions, joint-stock companies, expansion of foreign investment, flexibilization of small and medium-sized enterprises, and other mechanisms that, for decades, were associated by official propaganda with the logic of the market.
What stands out is not only the content of the reforms.
What stands out is the absence of an ideological debate visible within the ranks that for generations had the mission of defending exactly the opposite.
A story that comes from afar
This is not the first time it has happened.
In the 1990s, during the Special Period and with the dictator Fidel Castro lamenting the "disintegration of the socialist bloc," the regime authorized the possession of the dollar (which cost thousands of Cubans imprisonment), expanded self-employment, and opened avenues for foreign investment.
Later, new reforms were introduced under the leadership of the "pragmatic" Raúl Castro, who in his youth burned with the desire to build a communist society by listening to the nasal voice and succumbing to the soft indoctrination of Alfredo Guevara.
Afterward came the thawing with the Obama administration and the subsequent "rollback", a maneuver in which the Cuban regime is skilled and employs whenever it senses the looming threat.
More recently, the so-called "Ordering Task" and its maze of "distortions" to correct in order to "revitalize the economy," a series of nonsensical statements mumbled by the First Secretary of the Communist Party of Cuba (PCC) and so-called "leader" of the so-called "continuity," Dr. Miguel Díaz-Canel. Which also failed, of course. And at a very high cost to the population.
Each of these stages involved concessions, openings, or adjustments that would have been difficult to imagine during the years of the greatest revolutionary orthodoxy.
And yet, the communist militants accepted them. Always with the same discipline. Always with the same obedience. Always under the premise that the historical leadership knew better than anyone what the right path was.
The Party of Obedience
Perhaps it should not be surprising. After all, Cuba is not a pluralistic democracy (a mild way of saying that it is a totalitarian communist dictatorship).
There is no political space where citizens can come together based on ideological affinities in diverse political parties. Not even where the communist militants themselves can organize internal factions, publicly challenge the leadership, or contest the strategic direction of the country.
The open discrepancy can have personal, professional, or political consequences. However, that reality only explains part of the phenomenon. The other part relates to the political culture created by the system itself.
For decades, the Communist Party did not educate its members to question the leadership. It educated them to follow it. Discipline was elevated to a revolutionary virtue. Unity became a supreme value. Loyalty to the leadership took precedence over ideological debate on many occasions.
That's why it is difficult to find communist voices questioning publicly today reforms that just a few years ago would have been denounced as incompatible with the socialist project.
What Disappears
The silence becomes even more striking when observed in the broader context.
In recent months, figures associated with the power (with a crustacean nickname and a tyrant's surname) have begun to present a very different image of the country's recent history.
The Yankee enemy seems to be turning into a dialogue partner.
Critiques of capitalism lose prominence in favor of a language focused on investments, business, and economic development.
Anti-imperialism, for decades one of the main sources of legitimacy for the regime, is gradually disappearing from the forefront of official discourse.
And now economic reforms are being implemented that normalize practices generations of Cubans have learned to associate with the market.
All of this happens without any visible resistance appearing within the communist ranks.
The questions that nobody asks
Maybe because the truly uncomfortable questions can't be asked out loud. But they exist.
Many militants hear them in private conversations. Former Party officials comment on them. Those who dedicated years to teaching political economy, Marxism, or the history of the so-called "Cuban revolution" discuss them.
They are simple questions. If these reforms were necessary, why weren't they implemented earlier? If the market economy contains essential tools to rescue the country, why were decades spent denouncing it?
If dialogue with the United States was possible, why did confrontation occupy such a central role in the political education of several generations?
If private investment is now a strategic necessity, what happens to the principles that were presented as non-negotiable for years?
The Price of Obedience
For a long time, Cuban communists could believe that the sacrifices demanded by the revolution were in line with a higher historical logic.
The scarcity. The restrictions. The personal sacrifices. The emigration and separation of families. The economic hardships. Everything found an explanation within the revolutionary narrative.
The defense of socialism justified sacrifice. The struggle against imperialism justified resistance. The construction of a different society justified hardships.
Today, that narrative seems to be transforming before their very eyes. And those who defended it for decades are facing an uncomfortable reality.
Not because the Cuban economy needs a comprehensive reform. But because many of the measures announced by the first secretary of the PCC contradict certainties that have been presented as indisputable for years, and because those who promote them lack any legitimacy to propose them, let alone implement them.
A generation in front of the mirror
We will probably not see demonstrations by communists in the streets. We will not see party congresses demanding explanations. We will not see public opposition campaigns within the Party. That has never been how the system functions.
But that doesn't mean questions don't exist.
The real story is not in the streets.
It is in the silence. In the discomfort of those who defended certain ideas for decades and watch as they are replaced without explanation. In the dissonance of those who justified sacrifices in the name of principles that today seem negotiable.
And in the question that hovers over this new stage:
If after 67 years in power it is the very "heirs of the Cuban revolution" who are altering the economic and ideological foundations upon which they built their legitimacy, what are those who dedicated a significant part of their lives to defending them supposed to think?
Perhaps that is the most uncomfortable question of all. And also the hardest to answer for the regime itself.
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