The current problems with Cuba’s migratory policy
By Jesús Arboleya Cervera
(Editor’s Note: The first part of this article appeared last week. Today it appears in its entirety — including part 1. After reading it carefully and discussing it with its author, he convinced me that this article truly deserved to be published in one part. At Progreso Weekly we try to keep our commentaries under a 700 to 800 word limit. For that reason we had decided to split the Arboleya Cervera piece into two parts. There is an exception to every rule, and this is one case. Sorry for the confusion.)
It is no secret that the topic of emigration has been at the center of the debates in Cuba for the past 50 years and that, at present, many believe that a profound review must be made of the way that Cuban policy deals with this problem.
It must be said that emigration is not, of itself, bad. On the contrary, from the beginning, man has been a migratory being. To a great degree, the development of mankind has depended on the ability of the human being to emigrate and adapt to every kind of climate, food and new social conditions. Today, it is a world phenomenon, closely related to the motivational factor derived from the unequal development of nations and the possibilities offered by the advances in transportation and communications.
This does not mean that emigration doesn’t also have undesirable consequences. The theft of talent, the drain of potential from a nation’s productive forces, the deterioration of the family institution, and the discriminatory treatment migrants get in the receptor countries are problems that affect all emigrants and the social whole of the poor countries.
Also, migration often is a function of the mechanisms of exploitation of workers in the receptor societies, where immigrants are taken advantage of to lower wages and dilute class conflicts. This encourages xenophobia, discrimination and hatred among countries.
In the case of Cuba, contemporary emigration – let us say, from the triumph of the Revolution until today – is intimately related to the policies conducted by the United States against the island, conceived to drain Cuba of its human capital, dismantle the social structure and create abroad the social bases for a counter-revolutionary movement that had no cohesion inside the island.
Cuban émigrés have fulfilled a counter-revolutionary function that explains both the exceptional treatment they have received from the U.S. government and Cuba’s policy in the face of such treatment.
Under U.S. pressure, a good many other countries joined that strategy, turning any emigrant from Cuba into a political refugee, something that enables anyone who requests political asylum to get it. Thus, for reasons that are not at all humanitarian, Cuban émigrés are the only people in the world to whom the label of “illegal immigrant” does not apply. That, along with the quality of those immigrants, is something that the Revolution should be thanked for.
Inserted into the conflict between the two countries, Cuba’s migratory policy has had an essentially defensive character that, although with shadings determined by circumstances, has arisen from premises that are still in force. Emigration is not convenient for the country, so to limit it constitutes a legitimate act of defense. And, even though it seems contradictory, once the person emigrates, it is preferable that he does not – definitely not – return.
The political conflict also has limited the natural contact between the émigrés and the Cuban society, although it is proper to say that the counter-revolutionary groups and the U.S. government are principally responsible for this situation. The truth is that the blockade and the rest of the U.S. aggressions against Cuba impede normal relations between the two countries, and the Cuban émigrés are included in this logic.
Considering that U.S. policy has not changed, what reasons could counsel a different vision of Cuba’s policy toward the problem of emigration? Let us say many, and I dare to cite some.
In the first place, the transformation of Cuba’s own reality. Today, the factors that determine people’s interest in emigrating are different; so are the relations of émigrés with Cuba’s society. No doubt, as in any other poor country, the economic factor constitutes the decisive element in the motivation of many people to emigrate. Although the illusion of a better personal realization is present, the economic factor responds not only to an individual interest but also to a commitment to the family that remains in the homeland. Under those conditions, it is impossible for Cuba’s society to identify the émigré as the enemy, as happened in the early years.
Such a transformation of the perception about emigrationn dovetails with the changes that have occurred in the social composition of the émigrés and their counter-revolutionary function. Unlike the earliest émigrés, who represented the most privileged sectors of pre-revolutionary Cuban society, the persons of popular origin that began emigrating in 1980 were formed within the revolutionary process and are therefore distant from the restorative neocolonialist project that has characterized the counter-revolution.
Thanks to them, the social base that has supported the counter-revolutionary movement abroad has been transformed. No matter what their differences with the regime in Cuba, in the case of the new emigration movement we are not in the presence of a conflict of classes, where the positions of both sides are irreconcilable. Although the weight of these persons is still not decisive in the political context of the Cuban-American community, their influence is noticeable in the balance of the existing forces, and an improvement of their relationship with their native Cuba could contribute to this trend.
Paradoxically, the new Cuban emigration is also the result of native contradictions, generated by the development of the Cuban society in certain fields, especially in education. Unlike other countries, including those defined as emerging economies, where the educational factor is a hindrance to development, the opposite occurs in Cuba, inasmuch as the labor structure is not able to fully absorb the human capital created by the Revolution.
To continue with this policy, aimed at the improvement of mankind, constitutes the very essence of the revolutionary process and is economically justifiable as an indispensable investment in the future. Nevertheless, at present, we need to find alternatives to attenuate the contradictions implied in this imbalance and to articulate its immediate use.
The large number of professionals and technicians who work in other countries under the auspices and direction of the Cuban state constitutes an option for the solution of this problem. Add to this the fact that such a model of international cooperation is in line with the internationalist willingness advocated by the Revolution and has an added political value: to contribute effectively to the integrationist process that today has a renewed impulse in Latin America.
Nevertheless, its generalization depends on political transformations that are still incipient; therefore, from an economic standpoint, this option is possible only when one combines the need for this contribution with the economic possibilities and the political will to absorb it, as in the case of Venezuela.
It is important, therefore, to analyze if, at least in part, the émigré community could agree with this logic and become a legitimate source of income for the country, not only through remittances but also through tax mechanisms, forms of cooperation, or contracts with Cuba institutions. This would give those people an opportunity to correct a behavior that today is considered to be reprehensible, inasmuch as they ignore the moral and economic commitment involved in the sacrifice made by the Cuban people in their efforts to improve themselves. Under such conditions, it would be much more difficult to justify “defections” as the result of a lack of choices to act otherwise.
The challenge is to develop among the émigrés a sense of commitment to the welfare not only of their families but also to the entire nation and, in that sense, make them feel part of the national construction, no matter where they may live. In other words, revert the process and stimulate the formation of a revolutionary diaspora in line with the political traditions of José Martí.
It would be illusory to think that such a policy will immediately prevent the damage that may be caused by the emigration of people who are necessary to society, but it has been demonstrated that restrictions will not do that, either. Worse yet, restrictions have negative political connotations that are shrewdly exploited by the enemies of the Revolution. Faced with this dilemma, the possibility of a return to the homeland becomes a palliative that adds to the collective conscience a life experience that, on a voluntary basis, reinforces the patriotic and revolutionary commitment of many people who emigrate enticed by the siren song of capitalism.
In any case, everything indicates that the best thing for the country would be for emigration to assume a circular character. This requires a policy that allows free emigration, as well as the creation of conditions (legal, ideological, of social insertion) that encourage the return of whoever wishes to return, even the most successful émigrés. With this, we would create the subjective premises of a feeling of belonging that does not clash with the option of emigrating to another country.
Lastly, a change in Cuba’s immigration policy is justified by the international environment and the advancement of Cuba’s relations with the rest of the world. Never before have Cuba’s foreign relations been more universal, and never before has the United States been more isolated in its policy against the island.
Aside from the prestige of the Cuban Revolution – a constant factor for 50 years, which has not always translated into international recognition – the factor that explains this change is the worldwide deterioration of U.S. hegemony, which is not as capable as before of imposing its policies on third parties.
Therefore, the moment may be right for the topic of immigration to become a more active part of Cuba’s international agenda, with a view to normalizing this problem through bilateral accords that respect the interests of both parties and the international rules on the subject.
Given the complexity of the problem, it us up to the Cuban authorities to decide the reach and pace of the changes that need to be made. Nevertheless, I think it would be worthwhile to begin by considering the premises stated earlier: Is emigration always detrimental to the nation? Is it best to limit it or to impose penalties on those who emigrate abiding by the existing laws? Is it worthwhile to perpetuate the separation by viewing it as a lifelong option?
Anyone who reviews Cuba’s current immigration policy will find that many of its regulations remain at a positive distance from these suppositions. Thousands of Cubans emigrate and their property is not seized and they’re not forbidden to return. The possibility of visiting Cuba has been made flexible in a significant manner. Abroad, the formation of organizations that maintain active contact with Cuba is being encouraged.
Lamentably, even though those measures are widespread, they are perceived as exceptions to the rule, not as the strategic sense of Cuba’s immigration policy. Also, they coexist with other regulations that are anachronistic and harmful.
Perhaps, this is simply a matter of reviewing a doctrine that no longer matches current practice and advancing on the road imposed upon us by reality, creating the bases for a political, cultural and social relationship that could have a relevant importance for the future of Cuba.
Jesus Arboleya Cervera is a writer and a history professor.