Ex Economy Minister Alejandro Gil is Cuba’s New Scapegoat
HAVANA TIMES – We’ve already lived through something similar on this picturesque island during Cause No. 1 of 1989 (the judicial case against Colonel Arnaldo Ochoa and other officers), and it seems they want to repeat the story: that a top government official does whatever he pleases while his superiors know nothing.
At last, former Cuban Minister of Economy Alejandro Gil has been formally charged, and the list of accusations reads like a cheap crime novel—portraying him as some mafia boss moving about freely within the highest circles of power (even internationally), while his superiors supposedly suck their thumbs in ignorance.
Well, I’m not the one sucking my thumb, and I can’t comprehend that level of impunity and lack of oversight in the upper echelons. It’s even legally justified in a way, because in this country no public official is required to account for their income—and that’s a license to plunder, an open invitation to let one’s imagination and “entrepreneurship” run wild with the people’s resources.
During his tenure, Gil became a philosopher of fiscal deficit and a poet of scarcity—in a country where sugarcane grows faster than economic reforms. And that’s saying something, because there’s hardly any sugarcane left.
He was trying to get an old car with flat tires to run—or at least wanted his bosses to believe he was trying—while the price of avocados in the supermarket kept rising like a helium balloon at a child’s birthday party.
He was presented to us as an innovator, a brilliant strategist who knew that solving the island’s economic problems required a fresh, modern approach. He spoke with the persuasive charm of a snake charmer.
Once the regime’s number three man—below only President Miguel Díaz-Canel and Prime Minister Manuel Marrero (considering only the civilian chain of command)—he now appears to face a possible life sentence.
The first suspicious detail here is the timing of the official announcement: more than a year after the investigation began, and right when the country is trying to recover from the devastating passage of Hurricane Melissa through the eastern part of the island.
As I said, I’m not naïve, and nothing here happens by chance. Clearly, this is an attempt to soften the public’s reaction, since people have other, more pressing worries. If you have no roof over your head, it hardly matters whether Gil is crucified or burned at the stake—it won’t put food on your table.
The strategy of distraction is an old one. But this time they’ve run into a small obstacle: Gil’s daughter, Laura María Gil Gonzalez, who publicly demanded transparency and called for an “public trial.”
Of course, the dictatorship’s online trolls were unleashed to attack her, denouncing the former specialist from the Ministry of Foreign Trade’s Import Department (MINCEX) for never raising her voice when her father called for sacrifice, nor demanding fair trials for the July 11, 2021 protesters.
Still, while that criticism is undeniably valid, we should focus on the message, not the messenger. With great tact—criticizing the chain but not the monkey—she issued a courageous call, knowing full well that the Cuban government’s track record in such cases is one of opacity, closed proceedings, and the political manipulation of criminal justice.
Calling for a public trial in a country ruled by censorship is bold, but she had no choice: her father is accused of crimes including acts detrimental to economic or contractual activity; embezzlement; bribery; falsification of public documents; tax evasion; influence peddling; money laundering; violation of classified document protection rules; and theft or damage of documents or items under official custody. To top it off they also accuse him of espionage.
All are serious crimes that must be proven—but I think Laura María knows perfectly well her father won’t emerge unscathed. What she wants is to prevent them from executing him the way they did Ochoa and the others.
She knows, having witnessed it firsthand, that collusion among officials is the most natural thing in the world—and that it’s impossible to make a move without those around you finding out.
Even in her most optimistic dreams, she can’t believe her father is innocent. But, without saying it outright, she’s demanding they prove he acted alone—a lone ranger, rather than part of the pack.
So instead of attacking the daughter—for there’s nothing more human than a child defending a parent—we should support her call for transparency. Because if the blanket is pulled back, quite a few people will be left with their feet exposed.
According to her statement, the ex-minister remains firm and refuses to admit any crime unless it’s proven—an act of defiance in itself. But her public stance could also backfire, since the regime will bring all possible pressure to bear on her to make her father break. If you don’t believe me, just give it time—you’ll likely see a remorseful Gil bowing his head and confessing “errors” to spare his loved ones further suffering.
The statement doesn’t mention a trial date—it’ll happen whenever the Prosecutor’s Office feels like it, perhaps right in the middle of another blackout in the National Electric System, so no one will find out.
Maybe the best thing for the family would be to leave the country before getting trapped in this web, even if that means leaving him alone in prison, without visits.
From abroad, the pressure for a fair, transparent trial could be much stronger—avoiding another made-for-TV show trial like Cause No. 1 of 1989.
That’s the only way to prevent another scapegoat. Because this isn’t a trial, it’s a purge. And Gil is just another pawn on the chessboard.