The revolution that seized the imagination of three generations is collapsing
For more than six decades, Cuba carried the symbolic weight of an alternative future — a proof of concept that another kind of society was possible. That weight has now become a ruin. The Cuban people endure food insecurity, energy collapse, and political repression, while the revolution that promised them socialism, democracy, and prosperity delivers none of the three. In this collapse, a harder philosophical question surfaces for the global left: whether any genuinely distinct alternative to capitalism can be organized at the scale of an entire nation — and whether honest politics requires admitting the answer is no.
- Cuba's crisis has moved beyond political failure into humanitarian emergency, with the state unable to reliably produce eggs or milk and forced to appeal to the UN World Food Programme.
- The regime's response to collapse has been repression — political prisoners, silenced dissent, and the systematic denial of freedoms that the revolution once claimed to champion.
- The Latin American left faces a credibility rupture: the populations it claims to represent are voting elsewhere, perhaps having drawn their own conclusions from watching Cuba across generations.
- Defenders of the Cuban model, like Chile's Communist Party, find themselves in an increasingly untenable position — not defending a bloodbath, but defending a dictatorship nonetheless.
- The deeper ideological wound is this: small-scale socialist experiments exist and have value, but no alternative to capitalism has yet demonstrated it can organize prosperity across an entire society.
- The path forward for the left, the author argues, begins not with new programs but with a clear-eyed admission — that Cuba is not, and perhaps never was, a source of inspiration worth defending.
The Cuban people are living through the worst period in their modern memory. The revolution of 1959 — which captured the imagination of three generations of Latin Americans — is collapsing beneath promises it could never keep. Socialism, revolution, democracy: all three have failed, and the failure is now complete enough that honest voices on the left must confront it directly.
The collapse cannot be explained away by the American embargo alone. Cuba's deeper problem is structural: a system built on the assumption that revolutionary loyalty could substitute for the basic mechanisms that make economies function. The island cannot reliably produce eggs or milk. It has requested aid from the UN World Food Programme. Its energy crisis reflects a dependence on Venezuela, Russia, and Iran — hardly sources of inspiration. Scattered renewable energy programs, likely funded by European money, change nothing at scale.
This raises the question that haunts the global left: is any mode of development genuinely distinct from capitalism imaginable at the level of an entire nation? The honest answer appears to be no. Small-scale alternatives — local experiments, cooperative ventures, municipal socialism — exist and deserve respect. But they remain locally beautiful and nationally irrelevant. Organizing prosperity across millions of people requires growth, growth requires incentives, and incentives work best when tied to private gain and the basic human motivation to improve one's condition. Capitalism rests on this foundation. It has produced sustained prosperity at national scale in ways no other system has managed.
For the Latin American left, this moment demands a reckoning. The poor and vulnerable populations the left claims to represent are not voting for socialist or progressive parties. They may have watched Cuba and learned something about the distance between revolutionary rhetoric and revolutionary reality. Chile's Communist Party still defends the Cuban revolution categorically — not defending a bloodthirsty dictatorship, but defending a dictatorship nonetheless, one that holds political prisoners and denies the freedom to think and speak differently. That defense has become indefensible.
What remains of the Cuban revolution is rhetoric, songs, the fading echo of a moment when the future seemed open. For the left to move forward, it must begin by acknowledging that Cuba is not a source of inspiration — not a development model worth emulating, not a democracy worth defending. That recognition, however painful, is the only ground on which something better might eventually be built.
The Cuban people are living through the worst period in their modern memory. The revolution that seized the imagination of three generations of Latin Americans—that moment in 1959 when the future seemed to belong to a different kind of society—is collapsing under the weight of promises it could never keep. Socialism. Revolution. Democracy. All three have failed, and the failure is now complete enough that even honest voices on the left must confront what has happened.
The collapse is not primarily a story of American embargo or economic blockade, though both exist and have mattered for decades. Cuba's real problem runs deeper: a system built on inefficiency, on the assumption that revolutionary fervor and loyalty to the cause could substitute for the basic mechanisms that make economies function. The island cannot reliably produce eggs or milk. It has had to request aid from the United Nations World Food Programme. The energy crisis, while partly explained by external pressure, also reflects a deeper dependence on regimes like Venezuela, Russia, and Iran—hardly sources of inspiration. Renewable energy programs exist in scattered form, likely funded by European money, but they change nothing at scale.
This raises a question that haunts the global left: Is any mode of development genuinely distinct from capitalism imaginable at the level of an entire nation? The honest answer appears to be no. Small-scale alternatives exist and deserve respect—local experiments, municipal socialism, cooperative ventures. The literature on such experiments is rich and moving. But these remain locally beautiful and nationally irrelevant. They do not solve the problem of how to organize a whole society, generate material conditions for broad prosperity, and distribute wealth across millions of people. That problem requires growth. Growth requires incentives. Incentives, as it turns out, work best when tied to the possibility of private gain, to the calculation of success and failure, to the basic human motivation to improve one's condition through effort and investment.
Capitalism rests on this foundation. It is not the only system imaginable in theory, but it is the only one that has produced sustained prosperity at national scale. The world's most prosperous societies are capitalist societies. This does not make them equal or just—that remains the genuine battleground where parts of the left still fight, with limited success. But it is the reality that must be acknowledged. The Cuban revolution failed not because of external enemies alone, but because its leaders governed on the assumption that the Cuban people loved the revolution, had faith in it, would sacrifice for it. That assumption proved catastrophically wrong.
For the Latin American left, this moment demands a reckoning. The question is not whether to defend Cuba—that becomes harder each year as the regime imprisons political opponents, violates human rights, and denies basic freedoms of thought and speech. The question is whether the left can rebuild credibility with the poor and vulnerable populations it claims to represent. Those populations are not voting for communists, socialists, or progressive parties. They are voting elsewhere. Why? Perhaps because they have watched Cuba and learned something about the gap between revolutionary rhetoric and revolutionary reality.
The Chilean Communist Party, led by Lautaro Carmona, continues to defend the Cuban revolution categorically. This is not a defense of a bloodthirsty dictatorship—Cuba is not that. But it is a defense of a dictatorship nonetheless, one that holds political prisoners and systematically denies the freedom to think and speak differently. That defense has become indefensible. The left must say so clearly, without hedging, without appeals to American imperialism or economic blockade. Those factors exist. They are not the core problem.
What remains of the Cuban revolution now is rhetoric, songs, the fading echo of a moment when the future seemed open. The German word for it is zeitgeist—a spirit of an age that no longer corresponds to anything real. For the left to move forward in these difficult times, it must begin by acknowledging that Cuba was never, and is not now, a source of inspiration. There is nothing admirable left to defend: not a development model that impoverished entire generations, not a democracy that is denied day after day, protest after protest. That recognition is the only ground on which something better might be built.
Citações Notáveis
The Cuban people are living through the worst period in their modern memory— El País opinion piece
Cuba's real problem runs deeper: a system built on inefficiency, on the assumption that revolutionary fervor could substitute for the basic mechanisms that make economies function— El País opinion piece
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does the author keep returning to the idea that capitalism is all we have? Doesn't that feel like surrender?
It's not surrender—it's clarity. The author is saying that at the scale of an entire nation, no one has found an alternative that actually works. Small experiments work beautifully. But feeding 11 million people, building infrastructure, creating jobs—that requires mechanisms capitalism provides. The left keeps hoping for something else and keeps being disappointed.
But couldn't Cuba have worked differently? Better leadership, different choices?
Maybe. But the author's point is that the system itself—revolutionary socialism as an economic model—contains a fundamental flaw. It assumes people will work hard out of loyalty to the revolution rather than self-interest. That assumption breaks down. People need incentives tied to their own survival and advancement.
The embargo clearly hurt Cuba though. Why minimize that?
The author doesn't minimize it. But he's saying it became an excuse. Yes, the embargo damaged the economy. But Cuba's inability to produce basic food, its energy dependence on authoritarian regimes—those are structural failures of the model itself. You can't blame everything on external pressure.
What does the author want the left to do now?
Admit the failure. Stop defending Cuba. Stop pretending socialism at national scale is viable when there's no evidence it is. Then figure out how to make capitalism more just—through stronger social rights, better distribution, democratic accountability. That's the actual fight worth having.
Is he saying the left should just become centrist?
No. He's saying the left should stop chasing a ghost and focus on real, achievable improvements within the system that actually exists. That's not surrender. That's maturity.