Cuba’s Bureaucracy and Its Disconnect to Citizens’ Demands
Diaz-Canel denies the university student strike exists over Etecsa’s ‘rate hike’, though the evidence is overwhelming.
By Yunior Garcia Aguilera (14ymedio)
HAVANA TIMES – The podcast From the Presidency, aired this Thursday on the television program Mesa Redonda, confirmed what was already evident: the regime bureaucracy’s absolute disconnection from real public debate and citizens’ demands in Cuba. It took Miguel Díaz-Canel a full week to address the crisis sparked by Etecsa’s unpopular rate hike for online connections. And when he finally did, it was through a pre-recorded video—tearful and devoid of uncomfortable questions—featuring the same old officials repeating, for the umpteenth time, the justifications given over the past few days. Solutions? None.
In response to widespread criticism that the state telecommunications monopoly’s price hike came at the worst possible time, the president offered a jewel of political cynicism: “There is never a good time.” And as if that weren’t enough, he added, completely absorbed in himself: “I see it as a tactical retreat. We were moving forward, and now we must stop and step back a bit, gather what we need, so as not to deny ourselves the development we need in the immediate present and in the future.” At that moment, more than one Cuban threw whatever was in their hand at their TV screens.
In recent days, these measures have exposed internal fractures within the state apparatus itself. It’s not just about Etecsa. The decisions were driven by Prime Minister Manuel Marrero Cruz and endorsed by the top leadership of the Communist Party of Cuba at the end of 2024. But when faced with public outrage, both Diaz-Canel and Marrero chose to use the company’s executives as shields.
Yet the crack has widened. This past Saturday, Ernesto Limia Díaz—vice president of the Union of Writers and Artists of Cuba (Uneac) and a regime-trusted essayist—publicly lashed out at the prime minister on his Facebook wall. He started his post by aligning himself with Diaz-Canel, whom he called “our president” and showered with praise for his gestures during previous crises. But when he mentioned Marrero—without titles or affection—he demanded that he face the public. In an unexpected outburst, he wrote that Marrero should be the one to “right the wrongs,” directly blaming him for the rate hike.
His bravery didn’t last long. After a post from Roberto Morales Ojeda—known as the “guillotine of cadres” within the PCC—calling to “close ranks,” Limia backpedaled. In a new post, now melancholy in tone and full of trench-style language, he spoke of “shooting ourselves in the foot,” blaming “Marco Rubio and the Batista clique,” and asked, with selective memory: “Strikes—what for?” History, apparently, weighs more than 6 GB.
The Cuban student rebellion, however, has already crossed the Atlantic. Even the podcast La Base—a sanctuary of former Spanish leader Pablo Iglesias—dedicated a special episode to the topic. Ironically, the only interviewee from the Island was not a student, but Ernesto Teuma, a Cuban Communist Party member. His statement was equally damning: he admitted that today’s bureaucracy, “in the absence of Fidel, has failed to build itself with a new generation of leaders.” The comrade’s declaration left the presenters speechless, after nearly an hour of nostalgic sentimentalism and external justifications.
On Díaz-Canel’s podcast, Vice Minister of Communications Ernesto Rodriguez echoed his boss’s pessimism about the country’s future: “If we waited, it would be more traumatic.” Meanwhile, Etecsa president Tania Velazquez apologized to the people—on the verge of tears on TV—but kept the rate hike nearly unchanged.
Without batting an eye, Velázquez repeated that limiting data consumption to 6 GB was a deliberate strategy to push customers toward international top-ups. It is precisely that diaspora—denied the right to voice opinions and accused of spreading “malicious narratives”—that the state monopoly now aims to milk even more to stay afloat financially.
For his part, Díaz-Canel categorically denied any conflict with the students. He claimed that the photos, videos, and testimonies circulating on social media about the academic strike—without daring to utter the word strike—were manipulations by “counterrevolutionary hate platforms.” But the very internet the regime seeks to restrict throws the truth in their face: official university channels themselves have published minutes, statements, and speeches. The strike is a fact, as is the call for the resignation of leaders of the University Student Federation, accused of representing no one who isn’t wearing an official guayabera.
A regime cornered by its own blunders, lies, and inefficiencies rarely knows how to react without repression. In the Telegram group La Manigua, a hub for the most radical and violent segments of the regime, user Yuri Aguiar Luna posted a warning on Thursday worthy of being archived: “Let me remind some of the kids from MatCom (Faculty of Mathematics and Computer Science) that yesterday, June 4, was the anniversary of Tiananmen.”
First published in Spanish by 14ymedio and translated and posted in English by Havana Times.
Denials aside, I can’t help but believe that Diaz-Canel is panicking a little. When Fidel faced opposition, he knew that he always had his folkhero status in his back pocket to blunt any serious uprising. Even Raul, simply because of his last name has a measure of sentimental credit in his favor. Diaz-Canel has none of these things to back his play. Worse yet, it is said that they are lining up outside his office to replace him if he missteps. It appears that the Prime Minister Marrero is being set up to take the bullet for the Revolution if it comes to that. But, either guy’s head will fit just nicely on the chopping block if required. Nevertheless, the obituary of the Castro dictatorship has been written a half dozen times before and dictatorship has managed to survive. Maybe this is another one of those times.