Cuba: The Communist Party shows no signs of life

First published in Spanish at La Joven Cuba on July 8. Translation and endnotes by LINKS International Journal of Socialist Renewal.

Judging by the press accounts of the 10th Plenary Session of the Central Committee, the Partido Comunista de Cuba (Cuban Communist Party, PCC) seems to live more in another country than in the Cuba of 2025. While public discontent is growing and material conditions continue to deteriorate, the country’s highest political authorities gather without live broadcasts of their debates, in a concert of unanimous opinions and without displaying a proper sense of urgency. Instead of being a forum for deliberation, the Plenary Session seems to be more like a symbolic reaffirmation rather than a mechanism for reaching agreement on public policies in an increasingly adverse environment.

The session of the Central Committee that took place on July 4–5 offered the party leadership an opportunity to frankly acknowledge the scale of the current crisis. But it failed to do so. In spite of the country’s economic collapse, widespread social unrest, and a loss of confidence in the official rhetoric, the party — while superficially acknowledging some of these problems — continues to complacently look inward. Insufficiently critical of itself, it is trapped in its own formulas and unwilling to undertake structural changes.

Even so, there is still time. Instead of retreating into isolation, the party could choose another path, that of engaging in real politics. It could reclaim its vocation to represent, to engage in dialogue, and to persuade. But at this critical juncture, what is impossible to ignore is that it has chosen not to do so. Even worse, it continues to promote a discourse that divides Cubans into patriots and enemies, showing neither the ability nor an interest in governing on behalf of all Cubans. That is the image that its critics have historically sought to portray of it. The party now deliberately reinforces their arguments.

For decades, the party’s authority rested on a peculiar balance: it was neither truly democratic nor was it entirely illegitimate. Some of its legitimacy stemmed from tangible achievements in healthcare, education and equality, but also from its outright opposition to an external enemy with little moral standing in the region: the United States.

Over time, that relationship has evolved. The Special Period1 marked a profound fracture. Even so, some of these social guarantees were maintained. But after Fidel Castro left the scene — first due to illness and later his death2 — the party was left without its central figure. Since then, the gap between official rhetoric and everyday life has become impossible to hide.

Today, fewer and fewer Cubans believe in the revolutionary epic. The party no longer represents a promise of the future. In fact, quite the opposite; for many, it is now an obstacle to achieving it. And that discredit is not solely the result of the US blockade and the international context. It is the direct consequence of a chain of clumsy decisions by the leadership, an inability to listen, and a systematic denial of the signs of wear and tear.

The most radical political transformation in Cuba has occurred not within the state’s structures but in the thinking of its people. Exhaustion, frustration, and mass emigration are symptoms of a rupture that has already taken place.

The party has lost its monopoly on hope. Its narrative no longer defines the present, let alone the future. And the most serious thing is that it seems to be unaware of this. Having inherited a political culture that punishes internal criticism, it has fallen into a dynamic of institutional self-deception, masking problems with euphemisms and always claiming that solutions are “underway.”

The situation is so dire that, in certain areas of the country, the state has retreated to the point that churches and religious communities, previously marginalised or under surveillance, now fill the void by listening, assisting and providing meaning to people. In many cases these institutions maintain conservative agendas that are at odds with the Cuban revolutionary ideal of social progress and rights. In distant places where the party can no longer reach, other actors are taking its place, offering what the political system can no longer provide: a vision of life and the resources to achieve it.

The fact that the party has lost legitimacy does not mean that the opposition is ready, united or deserves to replace it. Most of the dissidents still lack a clear strategy. Many seem more focused on hoping that the system will collapse than on building viable alternatives.

Government repression is not necessarily the main reason for the opposition’s weakness. There is inertia among the forces opposed to the PCC. Inside Cuba, the opposition can only increase its ranks when popular desperation grows. Outside the country, the most visible exile community continues to be dominated by a political class with dubious democratic credentials and a long history of aligning itself with authoritarian agendas and disrespecting national sovereignty.

Rather than a democratic project, much of the opposition offers nostalgia and revenge. And so the political vacuum grows.

In his time, Fidel Castro embodied charismatic and foundational leadership. Now, nearly a decade after his death, his absence leaves a model dependent on the leader, but without a leadership able to sustain it.

The new generation of leaders is unable to mobilise or inspire people. They rely on repression to accomplish what they cannot through politics. Raúl Castro, though less charismatic [than Fidel], at least made an effort to carry out some reforms. But his legacy was stifled by the inertia of the system, resistance from his peers, and international developments beyond his control.

José Ramón Machado Ventura is one figure who is closely associated with the problem of stagnation. He was in charge of the party’s Organisation Department for many years, and so he directed its cadre development policy. Many blame his influence for having left the organisation devoid of meaningful renewal, isolated from Cuban society, and incapable of outreach. Still, it is hard to judge his role fairly. We may never know how many decisions were his own and how often he carried out the wishes of others.

However cynical one may be about the organisation, it is only fair to recognise that many of its grassroots members sacrifice a great deal when they carry out their duties. I prefer not to speculate about [the conduct of] the top leadership. However, at the mid- and rank-and-file level, working within the party structure is a thankless vocation, sustained only by the personal conviction of these militants. Yet all that sacrifice is in vain if those who lead the organisation are not able to make it even somewhat competitive against other political options.

The outcome of this meeting leaves the impression of an exhausted party that is unwilling to make the necessary and urgent decisions that could save it in the eyes of its own people.

In a country that is experiencing a huge brain drain, the PCC allows itself the luxury of assigning René González3 to lead an aviation club (González led Cuba’s last successful symbolic mass solidarity campaign, spontaneously filling the country with yellow ribbons); keeping Cristina Escobar4 — an ideal spokesperson for the Presidency — absent from the mass media; leaving a magazine like Alma Mater5 — which had managed to capture the attention of young people like no other state-run media outlet — practically without an editorial team after the forced departure of its director Armando Franco6; and a Ministry of Economy that, since the departure of José Luis Rodríguez7 has not been led by an economic expert, and which continues to ignore the steady flow of proposals that professional economists have been making.

Time is moving faster than the structures or the thinking of those in charge. Technology also threatens to leave the Party behind. VPNs are already a part of everyday digital life on the island, but satellite networks such as Starlink are going to render current censorship mechanisms increasingly useless. Meanwhile, generative artificial intelligence will be able to create fake news, simulate protests, and publish apocryphal speeches that generate real reactions among the population.

And in the near future, generative artificial intelligence will be able to segment moods, manipulate public discourse and orchestrate campaigns from afar with surgical precision. For a party without a coherent communication strategy or capacity to adapt, this is not a risk — it is a death sentence.

With the 10th Plenary Session just concluded, it is clear that there is no major shift on the horizon. Even so, a (narrow but real) window remains open for the party to reconnect with society. This is about more than economic reforms. It is about returning to functioning politically. Representing, listening and competing.

The plenary session reveals the exhaustion of the current model. These days most political parties around the world flaunt their internal differences as proof of their democratic vitality. Meanwhile, the PCC — anchored in a false sense of strength — prefers to hide its debates and present unanimity as unity. The state-run media coverage of the gathering featured the usual uniformly raised hands rather than a debate on the country’s real problems. The contrast between this echo chamber and an increasingly diverse and outraged civil society speaks volumes. The result is a poorly staged and (badly) rehearsed performance, not true deliberation.

According to the press, there was talk of “improving” the cadre development policy. But reality requires transformation, not marginal adjustments. The accountability report, described as “critical and grounded in reality,” was instead a collection of euphemisms. Mistakes were not acknowledged. Instead, we heard of “undesired rhythms” or a “lack of comprehensiveness.”

The closing speech by President Miguel Díaz-Canel Bermúdez met the party’s standards. Had it been delivered a decade ago, it might have even been considered bold. But in 2025, it falls far short of what is needed. And this reveals another key problem: that Raúl Castro, previously, and Díaz-Canel now, remain the most critical voices within the party leadership speaks volumes about the conservative dynamic that prevails within the organisation. The fact that no other official dares to point out the country’s problems more clearly than the top leader does reveals a structure that is more concerned about obedience than about insight.

In his speech, the president appeared to acknowledge the severity of the situation. But in Cuba those who hold official positions are not the only ones who wield power. With entities like GAESA8 operating in parallel and the dynamics of power groups that are invisible, the president’s scope for action is, at best, uncertain.

Meanwhile, daily life is becoming unbearable. Even party members are irritated by the blackouts. The government has failed. It cannot find solutions to the country’s problems. Nor can it explain clearly the role that US economic sanctions play in the current crisis using solid arguments that do not sound like excuses.

The lack of empathy and self-criticism, coupled with the failure to recognise the gravity of the situation, are also counterrevolutionary traits, because they contradict the founding pact of the revolutionary project, which is to stand with the Cuban people. And most tragically, even if the party wanted to change, it does not seem to know how to do it. It does not know what it should change or where to start.

Postscript

It is too late for the party to build the society that it once dreamed of. The context has changed and the people are too disillusioned. Right-wing ideas are gaining ground in hearts and minds, not because they are correct, but because of the void left by a party that claims to be the vanguard of the left, a party that in fact lost its drive to change what should have been changed long ago. Although the PCC remains in power, Cubans are now living in a post-revolutionary era. Managing the changes that are taking place, to minimise damage and regain some credibility would require a radically different party than the one that we saw at this meeting.

And that is a tragedy. Many people shed their blood and many others are still sacrificing their lives today, for a revolutionary dream that is being squandered by an apparatus that is no longer up to the task. History reminds us of what happened in the Soviet Union. There, it was not the people who failed, but their leaders. When people have a voice, they are usually right.

If the party does not change, history will not absolve it. It will simply stop judging it. Because the party will no longer matter. Neither as a power nor as a symbol.

• 1

  Special Period. The decline and fall of the Soviet Union and its eastern European allies had a devastating impact on Cuba. Almost overnight the country lost most of its trading partners and a reliable supply of fuel and other necessities on favourable terms. The Cuban government declared a state of emergency, a “Special Period during peacetime” and began reorienting the economy and social measures toward survival and eventual recovery. The deep crisis lasted from 1990 to 1999, approximately. It left a deep mark on Cuban society.

• 2

  Fidel Castro Ruz. In 2006 a severe illness made it impossible for Fidel Castro to continue leading the country. His official responsibilities were assigned to Raúl Castro on a provisional basis. In February 2008 Raúl was duly elected president. He continued in this role until April 2018, when Miguel Díaz-Canel was elected to the post. Fidel Castro died on Nov. 25, 2016.

• 3

  René González Sehwerert. In February 2015 President Raúl Castro awarded the Medal of Hero of the Republic of Cuba to René González and the four other members of the Cuban Five group, in recognition of their contribution to the security of Cuba and their loyalty to the revolution. For more information about René González and the Cuban Five, watch this Democracy Now! presentation, “Exclusive Interview with Freed Cuban 5 Member René González in Havana”.

• 4

  Cristina Escobar Domínguez was at one time a prominent, widely followed media personality on Cuban TV, often commenting on US-Cuban relations.

• 5

  Alma Mater was founded in November 1922 by the revolutionary student leader Julio Antonio Mella. It is the oldest continuously published youth magazine in Cuba. It is also the official organ of the Cuban national student federation, the Federación Estudiantil Universitaria. Alma Mater is primarily written for Cuban university students but in its prime its influence has extended to other sectors of Cuban society.

• 6

  Armando Franco Senén was appointed as director of Alma Mater in December 2019. Under his direction and with the active participation of a team of young journalists, the magazine adopted an open-minded editorial policy that distinguished it from the staid and dogmatic policy of other state-sanctioned publications. As Harold Cardenas notes, many young people welcomed the fresh approach.

  On April 26, 2022, Alma Mater announced on its Facebook page that Franco had been “released” from his position as director, following a decision of the National Bureau of the Union of Young Communists (UJC). No other explanation was provided. The decision was widely seen as a manifestation of political censorship. Prominent media and cultural figures such as Silvio Rodríguez voiced their concern. The editor-in-chief of the magazine, Yoandry Ávila Guerra, resigned. Other journalists quietly left the publication.
   

• 7

  José Luis Rodríguez García was Cuba’s Minister of Economy and Planning from 1995 to 2009.

• 8

  GAESA, the Grupo de Administración Empresarial S.A., is a Cuban military-led enterprise with vast holdings in economic sectors such as tourism, financial investment, import and export of goods, and remittances from abroad. GAESA’s portfolio includes businesses that are incorporated in Panama and other locations to avoid restrictions of U.S. law that limit Cuba’s control of the country’s assets. Details of GAESA’s operations and holdings are generally not publicly available, to shield them from U.S. sanctions.