Cuba is going through one of the most decisive moments in its recent history. For decades, public discussion about the country has been dominated by ideological narratives, geopolitical tensions and old confrontations that no longer fully explain the magnitude of the current challenge.
Today, behind that political noise, a deeper and more urgent truth emerges: the Cuban crisis is, above all, a human crisis. And the only way to begin to reverse it is to create real opportunities that allow Cubans to live, prosper and dream within their own land.
Mass migration is one of the most visible consequences of economic stagnation, but it is not the only one nor necessarily the most devastating. Behind every departure there is a story of rupture: separated families, broken ties, generations that stop sharing the same country.
That pain, which builds up over decades, rarely dissipates; On the contrary, it is transformed. First in frustration, then in resentment and, finally, in rejection of the institutions of the Cuban State, which many blame for having forced them to leave when they did not find opportunities within the country.
That resentment is not symbolic: it has a direct political impact in the United States. A hurt, frustrated and resentful émigré is not only a professional that Cuba lost; It is also a vote, a political position, a public narrative that turns against Cuba. This emotional perception influences American public opinion, the electoral dynamics of South Florida and the way in which Washington designs its policy towards the island. It is a phenomenon that has been shaping the bilateral relationship for decades.
Therefore, it is not enough to try to stop emigration: Cuba has the responsibility, difficult but not impossible, to emotionally and symbolically recover those children who left injured. Recognize their value, their contribution, their shared identity. In this process lies one of the most important keys to moving towards something that today seems distant, but is essential: national reconciliation.
In this context, talking about the private sector is not just talking about the economy. It is talking about the right to stay. It is talking about family reunification, emotional stability, a country that stops losing its own.
Despite all the adversities, a surprisingly dynamic private sector has emerged in Cuba in recent years. More than 11 thousand MSMEs already generate employment, support markets, mobilize supply chains and demonstrate something essential: when Cubans are allowed to undertake, Cubans create, innovate and transform. This sector, often over-controlled or interpreted with suspicion, has become one of the most important pillars of the country’s economic life.
The Vietnam experience offers a crucial lesson. With the Doi Moi reforms started in 1986the country did not change its political system, but it did change its economic destiny. The key was to trust in its human capital, open space for private initiative, integrate into the global market and guarantee legal security.
Cuba does not have to copy Vietnam to learn from its essence: prosperity begins when the State stops fearing the creativity of its own people.
Cuba could advance significantly if it adopted concrete and urgent measures: reduce the bureaucracy that suffocates productivity; combat corruption, favoritism and distortions that hold back development; grant true autonomy to companies, both private and state; and, perhaps most importantly, explicitly and strategically recognizing the role of the diaspora.
Few nations have, outside their borders, human and financial capital as prepared, successful and emotionally committed as the Cuban. Integrating the diaspora is not a concession: it is a historical necessity.
The United States, for its part, also faces an important decision. For years, US financial institutions have operated under a climate of fear towards any link with Cuba, generating account closures, rejection of legal transactions and a financial blockade that affects the private sector more than the State. The Biden Administration took preliminary steps, but without the necessary determination or implementation.
The current Administration, with a more assertive approach and entrepreneurial instincts, could see opportunities where other Administrations saw risks. A strong Cuban private sector directly benefits the United States: it reduces irregular migration, contributes to regional stability and creates spaces for economic cooperation that previously seemed impossible. It does not require giving up historical positions: it requires aligning politics with reality.
But this effort would not only transform the Cuban economy; It would also have profound effects beyond our borders. If the diaspora regains rights and begins to see itself as part of Cuba’s future, that change would have a direct, positive and constructive impact on United States policy towards the island.
For more than six decades, US policy has not been designed in Washington in the abstract: it has been shaped, conditioned and often determined by the emotional experience of the Cuban diaspora.
Because that policy, to a large extent, is the emotional and political echo of the diaspora. It is the institutional translation of accumulated pain, resentment, frustration and personal stories that were transformed into a public narrative. A wounded community pushes for punitive policy; A community that begins to heal can open space for a more rational, more humane and more useful policy for both nations.
If the Cuban diaspora begins to feel recognized in its country of origin—not as an adversary, but as a legitimate actor; not as a suspect, but as a partner—then the way he influences American politics will also change.
The vote, opinion, media influence and pressure capacity of Cuban Americans could be oriented towards a more constructive approach, less reactive and more focused on tangible results that benefit everyone. And this is especially relevant to my city: Miami.
For decades, Miami has been the emotional battleground of United States policy toward Cuba. Here wounds have been amplified, positions have been radicalized, openings have been stopped and personal tragedies have become a national agenda.
A Cuba that integrates its diaspora, that recognizes it and gives it a place in its future, could transform not only its economy, but the most complex bilateral dynamic in the hemisphere. Because when the diaspora changes, US policy changes.
And when United States policy changes, a real space opens up to move towards the stability, development, dialogue and reconciliation that Cuba so needs.
Therefore, I insist, a strong private sector is not an ideology. Recognizing the diaspora is not a concession. Both are pillars of national recovery.
Because a country that can retain its people and recover those who left, recovers its soul. And when Cuba prospers, economically, socially and humanly, the United States also wins.
