Cuba is dying, and the regime holds the key

Yesterday, September 8th, Cubans celebrated the day of the Virgin of Charity of Copper.

Cachita is, for both believers and non-believers, one of the deepest symbols of the Cuban nation. For generations, Cubans have turned to her when they have not found answers elsewhere. They have asked her for health, protection, prosperity, and not to abandon Cuba.

The scene is particularly painful this year. As millions of Cubans turn their eyes to Charity and ask for help for an exhausted nation, daily life unfolds amidst increasingly prolonged blackouts, difficulties in accessing water, shortages of food and medicine, and public services that are visibly deteriorating.

The electricity crisis has reached levels that just a few years ago seemed unimaginable, and the decline in material conditions is directly impacting families, the sick, the elderly, and children. Daily reports from independent media describe a society subjected to prolonged blackouts, a shortage of water and fuel, deteriorating infrastructure, and increasing psychological exhaustion.

There's no need to exaggerate what is happening. Just look at how Cubans live today.

And in response to that reality, the dictatorship offers an explanation it has repeated for decades: the U.S. "blockade".

There can be real effects from sanctions. There are, and it would be absurd to deny it. Trade and financial restrictions can complicate certain operations, increase transaction costs, and exacerbate existing problems.

But recognizing those effects is one thing, and accepting that the United States is responsible for everything that has led Cuba to this point is another.

In these times, Cubans are already aware that the blockade is internal, that Cuba has been able to and can trade with other nations around the world, and that, as long as it pays, it can purchase food, medicine, medical equipment, and essential goods right in the United States.

The regime can no longer evade responsibility for the decisions made in Havana, the results of which cannot be attributed to Washington.

The centralized economy, the near-total control of productive activity, the removal of a significant portion of private incentives, the subordination of institutions to political power, as well as the persecution and repression of political dissent are all part of a system built by Castroism.

It was not Washington who decided for decades that Cubans should depend on a model incapable of sustaining the needs of society on its own. For a significant part of that time, there was extraordinary external support: first from the Soviet Union and, years later, from Venezuela. Those supports allowed for the postponement of problems that ultimately returned with greater intensity.

Today that mattress does not exist. And this is where the old argument of the "blockade" starts to encounter an uncomfortable question.

If the U.S. embargo is such a decisive obstacle preventing Cubans from living with dignity, why isn't the dictatorship doing everything necessary to have it lifted?

The United States has a defined policy and legislation that sets conditions for a possible suspension and termination of the embargo.

The Law of Cuban Democracy and the LIBERTY Law outline a transition in which political activity is legalized, political prisoners are freed, fundamental freedoms are respected, the existence of independent associations is permitted, and free multipartite elections are held. The legislation sets forth subsequent steps to lift the embargo when a democratically elected government is in place.

Havana considers those conditions an interference.

You can reject them. You can try to modify them. You can negotiate. What is difficult to explain is that, while accusing Washington of keeping Cubans in poverty, it does not make negotiation a national priority and a moral imperative in the face of the humanitarian crisis that is unfolding at the nation's feet.

And here lies the underlying problem: the dictatorship does not seem willing to jeopardize what it considers essential for its own survival.

Castrismo is a communist dictatorship that has been controlling the state for over six decades, eliminating political competition and repressing those who attempt to challenge its monopoly on power.

It's not just about a failed economic model or a diplomatic dispute with the United States. It's about a political structure that has made its own continuity a priority above any mechanism for real participation, citizen empowerment, and democratic alternation.

The Castro family continues to occupy a central place in this power structure. Raúl Castro maintains a decisive influence, while the connections between the political elite, the military apparatus, and the large state enterprises remain beyond any effective citizen control.

In this context, the public appearance of Raúl Guillermo Rodríguez Castro, "El Cangrejo", in dealings with the United States takes on special significance.

No holds a formal government position nor has received an electoral mandate, but has gained prominence in discussions related to the future of the relationship between Havana and Washington. This episode raises a question that goes far beyond his person: who represents Cubans when negotiating the future of Cuba?

The official response would be that it is done by the revolutionary state.

But the revolutionary State is not an open political space where different options compete for the votes of the citizenry. The Communist Party maintains a monopoly on power, and society lacks democratic mechanisms to replace those in government.

This is why the continual appeal to sovereignty has an underlying issue.

The regime asserts that the United States cannot dictate how Cubans should live. It is true that no country should assume the right to decide for another nation. However, from that statement it does not follow that a ruling elite can claim the right to indefinitely decide for its own citizens.

Sovereignty cannot be an excuse to prevent Cubans from participating in fundamental decisions about their own country.

If the dictatorship is so convinced that the people support socialism, the Communist Party, the current system, and the "achievements of the revolution," there is a way to clear any doubt: ask the people.

An open, transparent, and internationally verifiable consultation would allow us to know whether Cuban society wants to maintain the current political system or embark on a transformation process that enables them to choose between different national projects. Those who advocate for socialism could do so. Those who desire something different could as well.

That would be popular sovereignty.

Meanwhile, the regime is doing something that deserves close attention: it is willing to review important aspects of its economic model because reality demands it. The reforms approved in recent times incorporate market mechanisms, private participation, and new investment formulas that would have been unthinkable in other phases of the Revolution.

There is nothing wrong with rectifying policies when they fail. What is hard to accept is that the economy can be subject to changes when the survival of the system demands it, while the political monopoly remains unquestioned.

That imbalance is becoming increasingly difficult to hide.

The population is enduring a crisis that continues to worsen while the elite seeks ways to adapt the system and maintain their positions. Cubans, on the other hand, still lack a peaceful means to decide whether they want to continue living under the same model.

And time flies.

It is not only measured in economic indicators but in years of life and health lost, freedoms that never materialize, entire nights without electricity, families that cut back on their food, and young people who conclude that their future lies outside of Cuba.

That is why this moment demands more than just another speech about resistance.

If the Castro regime believes that Washington holds an important part of the solution, it must sit down to negotiate. If it considers the U.S. conditions unfair, it must discuss them. If it understands that some are essential for a transition that allows sanctions to be lifted, it must bear the political cost of addressing them.

What can no longer be claimed is indefinite time.

It is not reasonable to ask an exhausted society to continue sacrificing itself to preserve an intact power structure that is unwilling to submit to its will.

Cuba needs something different.

It needs to stop revolving solely around what Washington wants or what Havana is willing to concede, and instead focus on what the Cuban people need and want. It needs to shift from being a matter reserved for an elite to being something that belongs to the citizens.

Yesterday, Cubans once again looked towards the Virgen de la Caridad. They did so in the midst of a darkness that is not solely due to the blackouts. There is also a political, institutional, and moral darkness that has lasted too long.

Perhaps that's why Cachita's image is so powerful this year.

Cuba asks for water and electricity to flow.

But no nation can entrust its future exclusively to a miracle. It is necessary for those in power to make decisions and accept the consequences of those decisions. It is essential to recognize that a revolution from more than six decades ago cannot become an inherited right over a nation, and that no elite can forever claim the right to decide for everyone.

Castrism claims to defend the dignity of Cuba. Then it has an opportunity to prove it.

You can continue to cling to a system that has left the population exhausted, or you can open a real negotiation with the United States, accept that you will have to make concessions and allow Cubans to regain the ability to decide their own destiny.

There is no need to wait for the country to be completely destroyed to acknowledge the failure.

We don’t need another lost generation to understand the cost.

Cuba has already paid too much.

And if the regime claims that the "blockade" is one of the main causes of this tragedy, then the responsibility it faces is unavoidable: to do everything in its power to put an end to this confrontation and, above all, to stop using the defense of Cuba as an argument to prevent Cuba from making its own decisions.

Yesterday, the Cubans asked Cachita for a miracle.

Perhaps the miracle they are waiting for is not that someone will come to save them, but that those who have been deciding for them for too long finally understand that Cuba does not belong to them.