We do not want to exchange power outages for a dictatorship with electricity: we want freedom

The recent report by the Miami Herald on the secret conversations between Washington and Havana deserves a reading that goes beyond oil, blackouts, and the economic crisis. Behind these conversations, there may be a much more uncomfortable question: What would the Cuban regime be willing to give up to retain power?

For decades, Havana portrayed the United States as the absolute enemy. Any rapprochement was denounced as a threat to national sovereignty. However, when the survival of the system begins to be at stake, what once seemed non-negotiable can become a matter for negotiation.

And here arises a question that I consider essential. The removal of Díaz-Canel is not enough for us. Not because his departure lacks importance, but because Díaz-Canel is a consequence, not a cause. He is part of a power structure built over decades by Fidel and Raúl Castro. Changing the president, while the single party, the repressive apparatus, the absence of political freedoms, and the concentration of power remain intact, does not mean that Cuba has changed.

It would only be a matter of changing a piece. And there is something even more concerning: What would happen if a potential negotiation ended up leaving a Castro, directly or indirectly, within the core of power? For many Cubans, that would be unacceptable.

We have not endured decades of lack of freedoms, persecution, exile, imprisonment, censorship, and family separation only to end up accepting a kind of "solution" that restores electricity, fuel, and economic stability while preserving the essence of the same system.

Yes, we want electricity. Yes, we want fuel. Yes, we want industries to operate, and for there to be food, medicine, and opportunities. But we also want freedom. Because a Cuba with electricity but without freedom would still be a Cuba without a political future.

I understand perfectly that nations act out of self-interest. The United States has its own: regional security, migration, energy, stability in the Caribbean, and, of course, economic interests. An energy agreement with Cuba could be attractive to Washington if it helps alleviate a crisis that ultimately affects the United States as well.

That is legitimate from the perspective of international politics. But we Cubans have the right to say something with absolute clarity: This arrangement may be economically beneficial for the United States and convenient for certain sectors of Cuban power, but it would not necessarily be good for Cuba.

We do not want our tragedy to become an opportunity to perpetuate the dictatorship. We do not want the problem of blackouts to be solved while freedom remains in the dark. We do not want the price of economic stability to be the acceptance of a political family that has been determining the nation's fate for over six decades.

We should not confuse a negotiation with a transition. A negotiation can yield oil. It can produce electricity. It can lead to economic concessions. But a democratic transition demands much more: freedom of expression, freedom of association, political pluralism, judicial independence, free elections, the release of political prisoners, and real guarantees that no group will reclaim control of the state.

For this reason, the conversations between Washington and Havana should deeply concern us, but they should also worry us. We do not yet know how far they have progressed or what their outcome will be. We cannot assert that Díaz-Canel will be sacrificed. However, we can note one thing: if the regime is willing to negotiate in order to survive, Cubans should ask ourselves what it intends to save.

To Cuba? Or to power? That difference changes everything. Because Cuba needs oil, electricity, and economic reconstruction. But above all, it needs to regain something that cannot be bought with oil: its freedom. And let no one be mistaken. Cubans do not want to exchange blackouts for a dictatorship with electricity.