The Communist Party shows no signs of life

Based on the press reports about the 10th Plenary Session of the Central Committee, the Cuban Communist Party appears more like an entity living in a different country than in Cuba of 2025.

Based on the press reports about the 10th Plenary Session of the Central Committee, the Cuban Communist Party (PCC) appears more like an entity living in a different country than in Cuba of 2025. As citizens grow more restless and material conditions worsen, the country’s top political leaders gather without live broadcasts of their debates, in a chorus of unanimous opinions and without showing a sense of urgency. Instead of serving as a forum for discussion, the Plenary Session seems more like a symbolic reaffirmation rather than a means to reach consensus on public policies in an increasingly challenging environment.

The 10th Plenary Session of the PCC Central Committee, held on July 4 and 5, was an opportunity for its leadership to honestly acknowledge the severity of the crisis. It failed to do so. Despite the economic collapse, widespread social unrest, and the loss of confidence in the official discourse, the Party—while superficially recognizing some of these issues—continues to complacently turn inward, stuck in its old formulas, lacking enough self-criticism or resolve for structural change.

However, there is still time. Instead of remaining isolated, the Party could choose a different path: engaging in real politics. Reclaiming its role to represent, communicate, and persuade. But at this crucial moment, what cannot be ignored is that it has decided not to do so. To make matters worse, it continues to push a message that divides Cubans into patriots and enemies, without showing the ability or interest in governing for all Cubans. That is the image its critics have long tried to depict, and which the Party now willingly confirms.

For decades, the Party maintained its authority in a unique balance: it was neither truly democratic nor illegitimate. Part of its legitimacy came from tangible achievements in health, education, and equality, but also from its direct opposition to an external enemy with little moral standing in the region: the United States.

The Party maintained its authority in a unique balance: it was neither truly democratic nor illegitimate.

Over time, that narrative changed. The Special Period caused a deep break; however, some of these guarantees still stayed. But after Fidel Castro’s departure, first because of illness and then his death, the Party was left without its main leader. Since then, the gap between official speech and everyday life has become clear.

Today, fewer and fewer Cubans believe in the revolutionary story. The Party no longer represents a promise of the future. In fact, quite the opposite; for many, it now stands as an obstacle to achieving that future. And this discredit is not only caused by the blockade and the international situation: it is the direct result of a series of clumsy decisions, an inability to listen, and a systematic denial of signs of decay.

The most significant political change in Cuba hasn’t happened in its government structures but in the mindset of its people. Exhaustion, frustration, and mass emigration are signs of a rupture already underway.

The Party has lost its grip on hope. Its narrative no longer shapes the present, much less the future. And the most troubling part is that it seems unaware of this. As an heir to a political culture that punishes internal criticism, it has fallen into a cycle of institutional self-deception, where problems are masked with euphemisms and the solution is always “on the way.”

The situation is so serious that, in certain areas of the country, the State has retreated to the point where churches and religious communities, once marginalized or under surveillance, now fill the void by listening, helping, and providing meaning. These institutions often even maintain conservative agendas that conflict with the ideas of progress and social rights traditionally rooted in the Cuban revolutionary ideology. Where the Party no longer reaches, other actors are stepping in, offering what the political system no longer knows how to provide: a new way of life and the resources to support it.

The fact that the Party has lost legitimacy doesn’t mean that the opposition is ready, united, or deserving of replacing it. Most dissident actors still lack a clear strategy. And they often give the impression of preferring collapse over building viable alternatives.

Government repression is not always the primary cause of the opposition’s weakness. There is resistance among the forces opposing the PCC. Inside Cuba, the opposition relies on citizen desperation to expand its numbers. Outside, the most prominent exile community is still led by a political class with questionable democratic credentials and a long history of aligning with authoritarian ambitions and ignoring national sovereignty.

Government repression is not always the primary cause of the opposition’s weakness. There is resistance among the forces opposing the PCC.

Instead of a democratic project, much of the opposition promotes nostalgia and revenge. As a result, the political vacuum widens.

At one time, Fidel Castro embodied charismatic and foundational leadership. However, nearly a decade later, his absence leaves a model that is reliant on the leader, but that lacks the leadership to support it.

The newer generation of leaders fails to inspire or motivate, instead resorting to repression for things they can’t accomplish through politics. Raúl Castro, though less charismatic, at least tried reforms, but his legacy was hindered by systemic inertia, the hesitation of some of his peers, and international events beyond his control.

One of the figures most linked to stagnation is José Ramón Machado Ventura, who for years led the Organization Department and, with it, the Party’s cadre policy. For many, his influence resulted in an organization lacking real renewal, disconnected from society, and unable to articulate. However, a fair judgment of him is hard; perhaps we will never know how many decisions were made independently and how many times he was acting on behalf of others.

However cynical one may be about the organization, it is important to acknowledge that many of its members make significant sacrifices. I prefer not to speculate about senior leaders; however, at the intermediate and grassroots levels, working within the party structure is a thankless job, sustained only by the conviction of those who do it. 

However, all that sacrifice is useless if the organization’s leaders do not make it reasonably competitive with other political options.

All that sacrifice is useless if the organization’s leaders do not make it reasonably competitive with other political options.

The outcome of this plenary session gives the impression of a party worn out and reluctant to make the essential and urgent decisions that could save it in the eyes of its own people.

In a country where talent emigrates in large numbers, the PCC has the advantage of having René González—who led the last successful symbolic campaign in Cuba that spontaneously filled the country with yellow ribbons—heading an aviation club; Cristina Escobar—an ideal spokesperson for the Presidency—being kept out of the media; a magazine like Alma Mater—which managed to catch the attention of young people like no other state-run media outlet—operating with almost no editorial team after Armando Franco’s forced departure; and a Ministry of Economy that, since José Luis Rodríguez’s departure, has not been led by a single expert, ignoring the constant proposals made by economists.

Time moves faster than the decision-makers’ structures or thinking. Technology also threatens to leave the Party behind. VPNs are already a part of digital life on the island, but satellite networks like Starlink will make existing censorship mechanisms increasingly ineffective. Meanwhile, generative artificial intelligence will be able to produce fake news, simulated protests, and fictitious speeches that elicit genuine reactions from the population.

Time moves faster than the decision-makers’ structures or thinking.

And in the near future, Artificial General Intelligence will enable us to segment moods, manipulate public discourse, and run campaigns from outside with surgical precision. For a Party without a solid communications strategy or the ability to adapt, this isn’t just a risk: it’s a catastrophe.

With the 10th Plenary Session just concluded, it has become clear that there will be no significant change. However, there remains some (though limited) room for the Party to reconnect with society. The issue goes beyond economic reforms; it’s about returning to politics—about representing, listening, and competing.

The Plenary Session reveals the failure of the current model. Today, most political parties worldwide show their internal differences as proof of their democracy. Meanwhile, the Cuban Communist Party—based on a false idea of strength—prefers to hide debates and pretend everyone agrees as unity. The same images on state TV highlight the usual raised hands instead of addressing the country’s real issues. This contrast between the echo chamber and a more diverse, outraged civil society says a lot. The result is a poorly rehearsed spectacle rather than genuine discussion.

According to the press, there was talk of “perfecting” the cadre policy. But reality calls for transformation, not minor adjustments. The accountability report, described as “critical and realistic,” was more of a string of euphemisms. Instead of admitting mistakes, it described an “unwanted” pace or a “lack of integrity.”

The president’s closing speech was adequate by Party standards, and if it had been given a decade ago, it might have been seen as daring. But in the lead-up to 2025, it falls well short of what’s needed. Another key issue is that Raúl Castro once, and Díaz-Canel now, remain the individuals showing the most critical thinking within the party leadership, which highlights the prevailing conservative mindset. The fact that no other official dares to identify the country’s problems more sharply shows a structure more focused on obedience than clarity.

The fact that no other official dares to identify the country’s problems more sharply shows a structure more focused on obedience than clarity.

In his speech, the president appeared to acknowledge the seriousness of the moment, but in Cuba, power does not rest solely in official positions. With entities like GAESA operating in parallel and the unseen influence of power groups, his ability to act is, to say the least, uncertain.

Meanwhile, daily life becomes unsustainable. The blackouts have even managed to irritate activists. And the government has failed, not only in its inability to offer solutions but also in clearly explaining, with solid arguments that do not sound like justifications, the role of US sanctions in this crisis.

The lack of empathy and self-criticism, along with the failure to recognize the seriousness of the situation, are also elements of counterrevolution because they deny the foundational pact of the revolutionary project: to stand with the people. And the most tragic thing is that even if it wants to change, the Party seems unsure how. It doesn’t know what to do differently or where to start.

Postscript

It’s too late for the Party to build the society it envisioned. The context has shifted, and the people are too disillusioned. Right-wing ideas are gaining support in hearts and minds, not because of their virtue, but because of the vacuum left by a Party that presents itself as the leader of the left and has lost the motivation to change what should have been changed long ago. Although the Communist Party remains in power, we are already living in a post-revolutionary Cuba. Managing the ongoing changes to minimize harm and restore some credibility would require a radically different Party than the one we saw in this Plenary.

And that is a tragedy. Many people shed their blood, and many others still sacrifice their lives today, for a revolutionary dream that is wasted by an apparatus that no longer functions properly. 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 it won’t matter anymore, neither as a power nor as a symbol.

Harold Cardenas Lema is the founder of La Joven Cuba, holds a Master’s degree in International Relations from Columbia University, and is an intern at the Council on Foreign Relations in New York. This article was taken from La Joven Cuba—translation to English by Progreso Weekly.