Nepal: Lessons for Cuba from a Rebellion in Progress
The machinery of power, if not dismantled, will continue reproducing its authoritarian dynamics.
By Yunior García Aguilera (14ymedio)
HAVANA TIMES – Some Cubans, carried away by enthusiasm and the hunger for good news, have already titled their social media posts and independent press reports with phrases like “The Communist regime fell in Nepal.” The temptation is understandable: on the Island we’ve spent decades waiting for similar headlines about Havana. But it’s worth pausing, looking closely at what’s happening in Kathmandu, and recognizing that the situation there is far more complex. It is not a clean collapse of the regime, but rather a process of erosion, uncertain transition, and struggle for power that is only just beginning. The Cuban regime is taking note of all this. And those of us who wish for democratic change in Cuba should do the same.
On September 8, Nepal woke up to massive protests across the country. Demonstrations, driven by young people who organized themselves to defy social media censorship and denounce corruption, were met with brutal repression. In just a few hours, the streets literally went up in flames, dozens of people were killed, and demonstrators stormed official buildings, including Parliament.
Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli of the Communist Party of Nepal (CPN-UML) submitted his resignation. But does that mean the regime has fallen? Not necessarily. The resignation of a prime minister can be a great symbolic victory, but the structures of power—the Communist Party, the state bureaucracy, and the security apparatus—remain intact. The army occupies the streets, Parliament has not been dissolved, and there is still no fully recognized transitional government. Rather than a fall, what we are seeing is a partial collapse of legitimacy, a vacuum of leadership, and an open dispute over who will lead the country in the coming months.
For Cubans, who watch these events with the anxiety of seeing ourselves reflected in another’s mirror, there are several important lessons. The spark can come from youth and from technology. In Nepal, the trigger was the shutdown of 26 digital platforms and the outrage of a generation that no longer accepts absolute state control. In Cuba, July 11, 2021, showed a similar pattern. It was mainly young people, phones in hand, who called protests in real time, even though the regime cut internet connections around midday.
More recently, we saw on the Island the spontaneous reaction of students against Etecsa’s tariff hike. Here the protest was concentrated mainly inside classrooms and on social media, not in the streets. That’s why the regime activated its “soft containment” protocols. The job of pacifying the more docile students was handed over to mass-control organizations like the University Student Federation (FEU). The strategy was to buy time through cathartic meetings and placebo promises in order to prevent the protest from spreading. Previous experiences, such as the fight against Decree 349, the events of November 27 (27N), and the Assembly of Filmmakers, have shown that the regime is not willing to engage in real dialogue and that, when it pretends to, it is more of a firebreak operation than a scenario for concrete change.
For those who are less docile, a different strategy is used. The regime quickly identifies troublesome leadership and sends in the political police. State Security agencies then move on to direct intimidation: threats of expulsion, pressure on family members, interrogations, arbitrary detentions, targeted internet cuts, home blockades, acts of repudiation, court convictions, or, if necessary, lethal actions disguised as accidents.
The protests in Nepal began peacefully. It was the repressive forces who fired live ammunition at demonstrators. In Cuba something similar happened during July 11 and 12, 2021: the police shot and killed young Diubis Laurencio Tejeda, and other gunshot wounds were reported.
Worse still, the Cuban Army has already rehearsed the use of its weapons against civilians in Africa. During the bloody purge in Angola in May 1977, after a failed coup attempt led by Nito Alves against President Agostinho Neto, the Angolan government brutally repressed with Cuban troop support. They fired on demonstrators, interrogated, tortured, and executed thousands of dissidents and young activists. Some estimates place the number of victims at over 30,000, many with no link at all to the uprising. It’s worth remembering that many of the Cuban officers who participated in that massacre are today generals and hold high positions in the Island’s repressive forces.
In an unusual act of recognition, in 2021 Angolan President João Lourenço publicly apologized to the families of the victims, describing what happened as a “great evil” and pledging to search for the remains of the disappeared to return them to their relatives.
Back to Nepal: the fall of one figure does not equal the end of a regime. Oli’s resignation is comparable to what would happen if Díaz-Canel were forced to leave office. The system could continue functioning under other names. The machinery of power, if not dismantled, will keep reproducing its authoritarian dynamics.
The role of the army is decisive in such cases. In Nepal, the military is now the key actor that can tip the balance toward either an orderly transition or a dictatorial hardening. In Cuba, the Revolutionary Armed Forces are the true center of economic and political power. No transition will be viable without at least neutralizing their repressive capacity.
Enthusiasm can also be a double-edged sword. Celebrating too soon can demobilize citizens or create impossible expectations. Optimism is vital, but it must be accompanied by cold analysis and medium- and long-term strategies.
It’s also necessary to acknowledge the differences between the two countries. Nepal is a multiparty system—though dominated by communist factions—with periodic elections and a degree of media pluralism. Cuba, by contrast, is a one-party state that controls all media and does not allow real electoral competition. The Nepalese transition, even if consolidated, is not necessarily replicable on the Island.
Furthermore, Nepal is surrounded by formal democracies (India) and pragmatic powers (China) that prefer stability but do not unconditionally support the ruling party. Power in Cuba, however, could count on political backing from aggressive powers like Russia and allies in Latin America who might act to prevent regime change.
Let’s not fool ourselves: the Cuban regime is watching closely. The repression of July 11 was followed by tighter digital control and a refinement of the surveillance apparatus. What’s happening in Kathmandu serves as a dress rehearsal for strategists in the Ministry of the Interior and the Armed Forces. If in Nepal the network shutdown was the spark of rebellion, in Cuba they will seek to secure that front before the first trash pile on the corner is set on fire.
That’s why the lesson for those of us who dream of a democratic Cuba is twofold. Yes, be inspired by the courage of those taking to the streets in Kathmandu, but also plan intelligently so that a future transition on the Island does not remain in the hands of the same old structures or turn into a “cosmetic renewal” of authoritarianism.
In Nepal, history is still being written. Perhaps in a few months we will be able to speak of free elections, a new Constitution, or a process of transitional justice. But it may also go the other way, with military hardening and a return to repression. In any case, dictatorships do not fall on their own; they fall when people decide to push them, when internal fractures become unsustainable, and when the international community stops looking the other way. Cubans must be prepared for that moment—with less euphoria and more strategy.
First published in Spanish by 14ymedio and translated and posted in English in Havana Times.