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About Antoni Kapcia

Antoni Kapcia is professor and head of the Centre for Research on Cuba, University of Nottingham. His books include Cuba: Island of Dreams (Berg, 2000) and Cuba in Revolution: A History since the Fifties (Reaktion, 2008)

Articles by Antoni Kapcia

How the US elections look from Cuba

Antoni Kapcia 22 October 2012

The Cuban government has had to deal, since 2008, with the fact that expectations of Obama were as unrealistic among Cubans as they may have been among Obama supporters in the United States.

Cuba, politics in perspective

Antoni Kapcia 22 June 2011

Where is Cuba heading more than a half-century after the revolution, and how is Raúl Castro's political strategy balancing the forces around and imperatives of reform? The long-postponed sixth congress of the governing party makes the answers clearer, says Antoni Kapcia.

Raúl Castro and Cuba: reading the changes

Antoni Kapcia

The influence of Cuba on the political agenda of its neighbours has been much in evidence in April 2009. The easing of restrictions on travel, telecommunications and remittances between the United States and Cuba declared by Barack Obama on 13 April - largely reversing the special measures imposed by his predecessor in 2004 - fall far short of a lifting of the long-term trade embargo, though it is a notable shift of policy by Washington at this early stage of the new presidency. The discussions around the fifth Summit of the Americas in Trinidad & Tobago on 17-19 April 2009 also showed that even in its absence, Cuba is regarded as integral to the future of the region. Antoni Kapcia is professor and head of the Centre for Research on Cuba, University of Nottingham, England. He is the author of Cuba in Revolution: A History Since the Fifties (Reaktion, 2009)

Also by Antoni Kapcia in openDemocracy:

"Cuba after Fidel: stability, movement, reform" (22 May 2008)

"Cuba's revolution: survival, loyalty, change" (15 January 2009)

But events in Cuba in the previous month are a healthy reminder that internal political developments in the country often overturn outsiders' expectations, in ways that require some reflection and analysis. Whatever the effects of a changing regional environment on Cuba, the country's political leadership will be an active player in seeking to mediate and manage them. So much is clear from the startling changes in senior personnel announced in Havana on 2 March 2009.

The long wait

Since Raúl Castro took over from his ailing brother Fidel - temporarily in August 2006 and permanently in February 2008 - two developments had been universally expected: government changes (promised in 2008) or a clearer raulista stamp, with the latter being seen either as retrenchment or as the start of a process of economic (if not political) reform.

As these developments failed to materialise, observers attributed the delay to various factors: Raúl's need to balance factions, Fidel's continuing influence (or Raúl's need to respect Fidel's sensitivities), popular fears and expectations, and (most convincingly) the impact of 2008's three hurricanes and the world recession. Another explanation is more prosaic and "institutional": that, until the much-postponed Communist Party congress (due in late 2009), Raúl has no formal mandate for reform.

But when the two long-awaited developments actually did occur in advance of the landmark congress, their character was as much a shock as their timing: for they included the demotion of two prominent politicians long seen as longer-term successors to the Castro brothers - Carlos Lage (secretary to the council of state, overseer of the post-1992 economic reforms which saved the revolution, and often described as Cuba's de facto prime minister) and Felipe Pérez Roque (the youthful foreign minister, once in Fidel's Grupo de Apoyo (support group) and always seen as "close to Fidel").

The changes also saw the removal of José Luis Rodríguez (the economy minister, and the economist who designed the 1990s reforms) and confirmed the demotion of Otto Rivero (the vice-president, also "close to Fidel", a former leader of the young communists (UJC) and since 2005 responsible for the "battle of ideas" campaign initiated by Fidel in 2000).

These changes - and the simultaneous promotions (many associated with Cuba's Revolutionary Armed Forces [FAR]) - were predictably seen by many foreign observers as having been driven by Raúl's need to impose his authority by removing "Fidel's people". This revealed the automatic operation of a five-decade-old "Fidel-centrist" media tendency: namely, that the revolution has always been determined by Fidel's skills, megalomania, loyalties, and charisma - except that now its controls had been reformatted to produce a newly "Raúl-centric" focus on personalism. Also on Cuba's politics and leadership in openDemocracy:

Bella Thomas, "Paradox regained: a conversation with an old comandante in Cuba" (20 August 2003)

Bella Thomas, "Living with Castro" (13 August 2006)

Fred Halliday, "Fidel Castro's legacy: Cuban conversations" (24 August 2006)

Richard Gott, "Fidel remembered: a view of the Cuban revolution" (20 February 2008)

Many others similarly read the reshuffle in terms of familiar, formulaic patterns: Raúl Castro as the revolution's "ideologue", the rising presence of FAR people in government and the removal of known "reformers" presaging the imposition of a hard line, the division of Cuban politics according to "reformist" and "old guard" factions. The last frame was often applied outside Cuba to view Carlos Lage in particular as the would-be Mikhail Gorbachev, whose desire for a social-democratic Cuba was restrained by "old guard" resistance.

A singular and very different reading of the personnel changes was proposed by Jorge Castañeda, Mexico's former foreign minister and now an academic at New York University: that the demotions pre-empted a coup by loyalists (specifically Lage and Pérez Roque) supported by Hugo Chávez, who feared that Raúl's reforms would "betray" the revolution (see Jorge Castañeda, "The Plot Against the Castros", Newsweek, 14 March 2009).

A variation that combines elements of these readings has also occasionally seen Raúl himself as a quasi-reformer - seeking a "Chinese model" of political control and state-backed economic liberalisation, but restrained by Fidel (or by the "old guard") whom he is obliged to retain in government.

The limits of formula

These diverse interpretations evidently are inconsistent with one another in several respects, as well as embodying assumptions that limit their capacity to explain anything. Indeed, a scrutiny of two predominant assumptions is one way to approach the complexity of the Cuban reality and offer some more plausible and consistent explanations.

The flaws in the first assumption, that of personalism, are clear enough. A reading of this kind is logical enough in journalistic shorthand or in the polemics surrounding Cuban politics, but it casts little useful light on Cuban realities or the loyalties within the Cuban system. The internal arguments and tensions of this system are far better understood as the ebb and flow of an essentially collective rather than one-dimensionally personalist leadership.

That is not to deny the historically dominating presence of, and loyalty to, Fidel Castro. But it does entail moving beyond the obvious to the roles played by others: Raúl himself (more decisive than most have imagined and not, as often suggested, simply Fidel's loyal or resentful younger brother), but also other key players of the past (Che Guevara, Carlos Rafael Rodríguez, Raúl Roa, Osvaldo Dorticós, Armando Hart) and the present. It is easy to construct a credible picture of fifty years of debate among a remarkably solid leadership composed of players who, far from being ciphers, have been vociferous decision-makers within their respective fields of competence.

The second assumption, of the decisive influence of factions in the Cuban system, enters here. It arises mostly from older paradigms (of closed regimes whose behind-closed-doors politics led to speculation about internal tensions), but also draws on the known battles inside the Cuba of the 1960s (principally between "old communists" loyal to Moscow, and the unorthodox former guerrillas).

What this perspective misses, however, is that groupings around one issue are rarely replicated with consistency on others. For example, the fact that opposition in Cuba in the late 1980s to Gorbachev's reform programme had several sources (fear of a weakened united front against "imperialism", nationalist resentment, a glimpse of the seeds of later "Yeltsinism") meant that what came later - the campaign of "rectification" - was always more than the conservative opposition to change it was caricatured as. Equally, a "factionalist" reading of the March 2009 reshuffle is undermined by the inability to fit Rodríguez into a fidelista "faction" or Pérez Roque or Rivero into a "reformist" one.

Moreover, factionalist readings never work because they over-simplify the scope and purpose of internal debates inside a system which has almost always encouraged open disagreement "within the revolution" (i.e. behind closed doors or within limited circles or periods), and which has thereafter seldom castigated those who lose the argument. Ramiro Valdés is a case in point; a former guerrilla and interior minister, he was removed from the leadership in the 1980s but remained to be "rehabilitated" after 2005, becoming a minister and most recently vice-president, taking over the "battle of ideas" from Rivero.

True, the precise nature of "within" has differed over the decades - from the open academic debates of the "great debate" of the 1960s (over Cuba's economic future) to the limited leadership debates after the disastrous harvest of 1970. But it has generally been evident before party congresses, in mass organisations during consultations, or in academic "think-tanks". By the same token, the alternative ("against") has always been deemed unacceptable, though also variously defined by the scale of the current problem or external pressures.

The main reason why such traditional interpretations miss their target is that the focus on "reform" assumes the term's homogeneity and thus of those espousing it. Since 1989, "reform" has in the west become synonymous with "transition" (to capitalism); in Cuba, however, it has meant very different things to different actors.

Some might have advocated Gorbachev-style reforms in the 1980s, others might have admired the "Chinese model" - but few Cuban politicians shared either perspective, for the majority was aware that full liberalisation would mean Cuba being swamped by foreign imports and capital, and that a Chinese-style model might mean unacceptable inequality and corruption. In the Cuban context, "reform" in the early 1970s had meant following Soviet models of decentralisation and incentives; in the 1980s, it meant moving towards greater efficiency; after 1990 it meant whatever was necessary to save the revolution (including "dollarisation", self-employment, and tourism).

Much of this is missed by outsiders, whose search for "reformers" is associated with the assumption of a non-existent desire for "transition". The mismatch of perceptions was evident during Raúl's takeover in 2006-08; outsiders still saw him as a "hardliner", whereas most Cubans - based on his record within the FAR and then on his oversight of the 1990s reforms - saw him as (in Cuban terms, the ones that make sense of what is happening) an economic "reformer". In the former case what was consistent was his desire for efficiency; in the latter, the motives were clear and shared by Fidel.

The lessons of revolution

These considerations help to clear the way for a more realistic understanding of the political changes in Cuba. It is clear that any idea that Raúl might be planning a significantly different policy can be discarded: both brothers are cut from the same ideological cloth, and are equally determined to defend and further "the revolution" (see Cuba in Revolution: A History Since the Fifties [Reaktion, 2009]). Where they differ is in tactics and style. Among openDemocracy's recent articles on the Americas:

Celia Szusterman, "Argentina: celebrating democracy" (19 December 2008)

John Crabtree, "Bolivia: after the vote" (2 February 2009)

Sergio Aguayo Quezada, "Mexico: a state of failure" (17 February 2009)

George Philip, "Hugo Chávez, oil, and Venezuela" (20 February 2009)

Julia Buxton, "Hugo Chávez: tides of victory" (20 February 2009)

Adam Isacson, "Colombia's imperilled democracy" (6 March 2009)

Victor Valle, "El Salvador's long march" (20 March 2009)

Kelly Phenicie & Lisa J Laplante, "Peru: the struggle for memory" (8 April 2009)

Juan Gabriel Tokatlian, "Barack Obama's drug policy: time for change" (15 April 2009)

Ivan Briscoe, "The Americas and Washington: moving on" (17 April 2009)

Fidel has, broadly, always preferred to lead Cubans by mobilising through campaigns, rallies and "direct democracy", using his charisma, reputation and the reservoir of personal loyalty. Even when he employed stable structures to channel that support (the Communist Party and the mass organisations), he was generally suspicious of them - though not necessarily because they might constrain his freedom, power or authority.

The reasons were, rather, rooted in experience: the 1960s had taught him that institutionalised structures could be used by groups to try to take over the revolution or to change policy, while a decade of institutionalisation (1975-85) with its mix of consumerism and an enlarged party had created conditions for privilege and corruption. Thus, when, in 2000, the Elián González campaign transmogrified into the "battle of ideas" - promising to reinvigorate demoralised activists and incorporate a new generation of loyalists - mobilisation took precedence over structures, leading to the postponement of the party congress set for 2002.

Raúl, by contrast, has always preferred to govern through those same structures - though not because (as commonly assumed abroad) he is either a Stalinist or a boring bureaucrat.

The reason is, rather, rooted in his awareness that mobilisation, while often necessary to strengthen ideological resolve, contains two dangers: a lack of accountability and a tendency towards inefficiency. For him, structures (properly invigilated and motivated) can be more accountable, more effectively democratic, more efficient and less susceptible to ad hoc corruption.

All this is in the context of what is for Raúl the critical priority: to defend, sustain and enhance the revolution. Fidel might have seen the means to that end being ideological enhancement through mobilisation, but Raúl knows that his options are different: instead of "direct democracy" or campaigns, he has to earn Cubans' active commitment (even if he shares Fidel's historical legitimacy) by delivering tangible economic improvement. Some might argue that this is only possible though a transition towards capitalism, involving the privatisation of the heavily state-run structures and liberalisation of commerce; Raúl's preference is clearly to achieve it through the greater efficiency of the same structures.

What "efficiency" means in practice is a vexed question. For Raúl (as for Che Guevara in the ministry of industry in the early 1960s), inefficiency is inherently anti-revolutionary and produces corrosive corruption. The vexation comes because this "corruption" is not the high-level, headline-grabbing kind that sees ministers sacked or generals executed, but rather the low-level pilfering and diversion of resources of the kind that existed before 1989 and was exacerbated after the 1990s crisis, becoming almost standard means of survival for many and of enrichment for some.

For Raúl, both effects undermine the revolution's legitimacy: if ordinary citizens are obliged to steal public goods to survive, that undermines both their respect for, and active commitment to, revolution, while those who thus enrich themselves are parasites on their fellow citizens. Neither is acceptable.

In this larger context, the political demotions and promotions of March 2009 are part of a wider and longer-term strategy. There is a broad link with the post-2006 campaign against lax labour practices (such as ad hoc absenteeism and inadequate fulfilment of quotas), one that has generated stubborn resistance, trade-union objections and delayed legislation.

The constraint of ambition

There is need for a caveat, however: the need to avoid reading single motivations into unrelated developments. The fact that the demoted politicians shared little with each other makes it more than likely that Raúl also seized the opportunity to make changes for very different reasons.

Thus for example, corruption seemingly played no role in the demotions of Carlos Lage and Felipe Pérez Roque; but it was implicit in the case of Otto Rivero, not (at this stage at least) for any personal involvement but for having failed to prevent corruption at lower levels. If the loose structures and lack of accountability in the "battle of ideas" allowed opportunities for local corruption, this will have confirmed Raúl's suspicions about unstructured mobilisations.

In the cases of Lage and Pérez Roque (the reasons for the removal of José Luis Rodríguez are still unclear) another factor came into play: the system's inherent vigilance towards emerging "politicians". This refers to a consistent suspicion - predating Raúl's mandate - of politicians who, having risen through the ranks, have begun to act in their own right, outside the existing structures.

This happened with "rising stars" in the past, most notably Carlos Aldana in the early 1990s and Roberto Robaina in the late 1990s; both were identified abroad as potential successors to Fidel (and Raúl), and were removed partly because - as if persuaded by the label - they began to act accordingly. The public statements about Lage and Pérez Roque contain more than a hint of these precedents.

The leadership's reaction to such ostensible aspirants thus has a long and consistent history. But there is another factor: Raúl's own preference for "managers" over "politicians": the former are relied upon to deliver required results efficiently, the latter being less reliable and more likely to develop a personal base and approach.

Raúl Castro's "night of the long knives" may best be considered a characteristically raulista step in the defence, shaping and development of his main concern: "the revolution". An awareness of this core strategic and political calculation might be useful when the measures announced by Washington a month later begin to reach Cuba's shores and Cubans' pockets.

Cuba’s revolution: survival, loyalty, change

Antoni Kapcia

The commemoration of the fiftieth anniversary of the Cuban revolution is an appropriate moment to pose two questions: what exactly is Cuba celebrating - and are Cuban citizens themselves joining in?

Antoni Kapcia is professor and head of the Centre for Research on Cuba, University of Nottingham, England Also by Antoni Kapcia in openDemocracy:"Cuba after Fidel: stability, movement, reform" (22 May 2008)

The answer to the first is easy: what is especially being celebrated, fifty years after the triumphant entry into Havana on 1 January 1959, is the fact of sheer survival, against all the odds. The extent of the challenges the revolution has managed to withstand over five decades should be recalled: a United States-backed invasion (1961); the longest sanctions in history (partially since 1960 and fully since 1963); the sustained hostility of the world's greatest military and economic power; successive economic crises, especially the drastic collapse in 1989-94; the disappearance of the whole edifice of economic, political and military protection afforded by the socialist bloc and Soviet Union; and, most recently, the retirement of Fidel Castro. In the light of all this, survival is no mean achievement.

The underlying assumption in US policy-making circles since 1961 is that political repression is solely responsible for this survival. But other reasons can be cited that also provide cause for at least some Cubans to celebrate. For, fundamentally, the Cuban revolution's longevity is attributable to a series of factors that have consistently affected enough Cubans for enough years to ensure either active loyalty (in some) or passive acceptance (in perhaps more), requiring the use of coercion less widely or less systematically than might often be expected.

The ingredients of loyalty

The first explanation of that loyalty lies in the social benefits that the system has brought. By the 1970s, it was clear that the considerable achievements in social provision, equality, land distribution and employment security (all comparing well with contemporary Latin America) had sufficed to guarantee the continuing loyalty of most Cubans, whatever their doubts about the political system.

Also on Cuba's politics and leadership in openDemocracy:

Bella Thomas, "Paradox regained: a conversation with an old comandante in Cuba" (20 August 2003)

Bella Thomas, "Living with Castro" (13 August 2006)

Fred Halliday, "Fidel Castro's legacy: Cuban conversations" (24 August 2006)

Richard Gott, "Fidel remembered: a view of the Cuban revolution" (20 February 2008)

When the 1989-91 collapse of communism generated a frightening economic collapse in Cuba (a 35 percent fall in GDP by 1994, an 80 percent fall in trade, desperate shortages of everything from energy to food), the decision to protect spending levels on health and education paid off: loyalty was seriously damaged (witnessed in serious unrest in 1994 and a growing number of illegal refugees) but sufficient loyalty was secured for the coming years of greater austerity - the so-called "special period". While that austerity has continued (albeit lessening substantially), it is still probably true that the reservoirs of loyalty over three decades have continued to play a major part (see Richard Gott, "Fidel remembered: a view of the Cuban revolution", 20 February 2008).

The second clue to loyalty lies in the array of mechanisms for political participation, most dating from 1960-61 (thus predating the single-party system, established in 1965). Participation has, however, taken two forms: mobilisatory and institutional. The former was most characteristic of the 1960s (e.g. the 1961 literacy campaign), but has remained visible in the repeated campaigns to organise voluntary labour, hurricane relief, defence, construction, and so on, and in the more ritual parades (May Day and 26 July).

However, the more stable institutions have been as important, especially the "mass organisations". These, involving as they do the whole population regularly and formally - and which cover women, workers, private farmers, schoolchildren, students, veterans and neighbourhood residents (the latter in the characteristic Committees for the Defence of the Revolution) - have long provided the main means by which effort, enthusiasm, complaints and communication between leaders and led are channelled and in which all Cubans connect with "the revolution".

Indeed, they have long filled a gap, since membership of the Communist Party and its youth wing (Union of Young Communists) is selective and since they long predated the post-1976 electoral system. In fact, their extensive scope had no equivalent in the pre-1989 socialist-bloc systems; this helps to explain why Cuba did not become the last domino to fall in 1989.

The third clue is the continuing cohesive power of the revolution's ideology. Here, however, a note of caution is needed for those wont to measure Cuba against templates established in that bloc; although the revolution's admitted ideology has, since 1961, been communism, this has always been rooted in and shaped by the radical nationalism which drove the original rebellion. This was true in the heretical 1960s (when Cuba's socialism challenged Soviet definitions), remained true throughout the apparently "Sovietised" years (1970-86), and has continued to be true since 1989-94, as crisis forced reappraisal of "the revolution" and reaffirmed its Cuban roots.

Indeed, the revolution itself should be seen as a process of revolutionary nation-building: revolutionary because of its long commitment to egalitarianism (at least until the special period) and collectivism, and nation-building because it took up a process postponed since 1902. For independence (from Spain) was seriously undermined by United States military occupation in 1898-1902 (repeated three times subsequently), by thirty-two years of open US neo-colonialism and by a half-century of economic dependence on the giant to the north. Hence, one can see nation-building in the many new national institutions after 1959, but also in the national pride emanating since 1959 from sporting triumph, cultural achievements, third-world aid and military success in Angola.

The sources of survival

Until 1991, the most simple and available explanation for survival was Soviet and socialist-bloc support, helping to underwrite the social revolution and diversify the economy. However, survival beyond 1991 undermined that argument, returning attention to the United States. For a further consistent explanation has long been the impact of US opposition, usually seen outside the United States as counterproductive, strengthening the Cuban government's legitimacy. This was certainly true of the Bay of Pigs events of April 1961 and by the following years of "siege"; equally, the United States' decisions to increase active hostility after 1992 by tightening the embargo during the crisis (repeated in 1996 and 2004) has almost certainly restored a siege mentality, rallying enough Cubans behind the leadership.

Indeed, Cuban reactions to US hostility have been permanently institutionalised by three factors.

The first is the continuing embargo, invariably interpreted inside Cuba, legally and popularly, as an act of war. Economically, after years when socialist- bloc aid and trade cushioned its impact, making it a costly nuisance, after 1991 it again became critical; politically, it has always served as living proof of the "siege" and provided an alibi for economic problems.

The second factor is continuing US support for émigré forces seeking to overthrow the revolution; after 1961, Operation Mongoose sought to sabotage and foment rebellion, thereafter followed by a close link between the Cuban-American lobby and US policy, helping to unite opinion on the island. Equally, active and open US support for Cuba's divided domestic dissidents (especially since 2002) has contributed to isolating and undermining the credibility of the latter.

The third factor is the continuing US occupation of Guantánamo Bay, the permanent visible reminder of the old neo-colonialism and the post-1960 siege and a powerful weapon for the government.

The final major explanation lies in the substantial emigration since 1959, occasionally leaving in waves (e.g. 1965-71, 1980 and 1994) but mostly continuous. Since much of this emigration was initially politically-motivated, this has siphoned off much potential opposition; indeed, it has often been used for that purpose by the government, thereby weakening the development of any significant organised dissidence and, by associating this opposition with the exile lobby and the United States, weakening their political legitimacy in Cuba.

A question of generation

What, however, of the future? Can survival suffice to ensure continuing loyalty? The answer is almost certainly that it cannot and that the revolution is at something of a crossroads. True, this has frequently been the case since 1959; but the current condition is now somewhat different in character from previous dilemmas facing Cuba's leaders.

Most obviously this comes from the impending absence of Fidel Castro. There is a reason why the explanations given above have so far not included the "Fidel question". That is because the familiar US and journalistic focus on Fidel has often distorted understanding of what is, necessarily, a complex process; the greater the focus on Fidel, the less understood the wider system. However, to ignore Fidel would be foolish. Apart from the periods, moments or specific areas of policy where his decision-making has been critical, there has always been a close association between "the revolution" and "Fidel" for millions of Cubans, creating a commanding personal loyalty and popularity or affection.

For those who saw and appreciated the changes after 1959, that identification has been positive, but for many of the young it can also negative: Fidel is easily blamed for all the problems, austerity and frustrations. Although most Cubans have operated since 2007 on the assumption that Fidel is no longer actively involved in decision-making, the fact is that he is still alive, is still consulted (even if only out of respect) and still expounds in his almost daily press "reflections". Therefore, the Cuban system is still partly in an interregnum rather than a post-Fidel state, unwilling to contemplate changes from policies, institutions or attitudes formerly associated with Fidel.

However, his death would undoubtedly remove a cornerstone of popular loyalty and legitimacy. While Raúl Castro (as one the three leaders of the rebellion) shares some of Fidel's historical legitimacy, and benefits from association with the popular armed forces and the idea of reform, the fact is that he is not Fidel - he does not have Fidel's personal loyalty and is reluctant to try to captivate with long rhetorical speeches. Instead, he knows that he must earn support in other ways, not least by delivering rapid material improvements.

The frustrations building at the continuing austerity and the exhaustion following the mobilisations of 1999-2006 mean that many Cubans are evidently eager to improve their economic circumstances: in particular, by ending rationing and the humiliating dependence on a divisive two-currency system and by having greater access to cheap, good-quality food and consumer goods.

Cuba's leaders assume, probably correctly, that as yet not enough Cubans actively demand a multi-party democracy; too many recall the fate of the Sandinistas in Nicaragua in 1984-90, and too many fear the east-central European experience of the loss of social provision and employment, or a return of émigrés (to reclaim their property). Hence, material improvement is most Cubans' more urgent demand; at the same time, Raúl also knows that failure to deliver on that could be politically damaging.

The implication is that what has become a cliché in journalistic reports of contemporary Cuba is nonetheless true: that many young Cubans need to be actively won over to "the revolution" in ways not necessary for their predecessors. In his four remaining years in office, Raúl knows that he must send signals to the under-30s that Cuba is not, as some fear, a gerontocracy, and must continue to offer spaces for the younger generation. Therefore the much-postponed party congress now scheduled for late 2009, which will give Raúl the political ammunition for controlled reform programme, should be watched closely.

A vital year

Two further elements make 2009 especially critical.

The first is that Cuba's economic expectations have been severely hit by three major hurricanes (Gustav, Ike, and Paloma) which caused $10 billion of damage; and by the developing world recession, which threatens to reduce tourism, foreign investment and markets.

The second is that the Barack Obama administration offers a different United States. True, no one seriously expects the embargo to be lifted over the short-term (given the constitutional, political and electoral obstacles). But Obama is bound to reduce the levels of active hostility; and the near-certain repeal of the measures imposed in 2004 which restricted Cuban-American remittances and visits will help to offset some of the expected decline in capital and tourist inflows. However, the most that can be expected is a steady deterioration of the embargo, for its sudden end would be in neither country's interests: the effects on expectations, stability and emigration would be destabilising, for Cuba and Florida alike.

Meanwhile, Cubans' expectations will inevitably rise, with each month of Obama, with each month of Raúl, and with each month of no or slow economic change. Those expectations have to be met in some form or other. If Raúl can deliver sufficiently, then all the reservoirs of support or acceptance will work; if he cannot, then the situation may be as serious as Cuba's leaders have warned. That said, survivability has repeatedly proved to be one of the revolution's underlying strengths. This resilience should never be underestimated.

Cuba after Fidel: stability, movement, reform

Antoni Kapcia

Fidel Castro's formal retirement from the Cuban presidency (after thirty-two years) and from leadership of the Cuban revolution (after forty-nine years) came on 19 February 2008, when he withdrew his name from the deliberations of the newly elected national assembly; but informally it had arrived on 31 July 2006, when he had transferred power - temporarily, pending surgery - to his brother Raúl. In any event, the later move was surprising only in its timing and manner. It may have shaken the world's media, and wrong-footed many in the United States; but the decision itself, the precise succession and the calm domestic response were in fact predictable. Fidel's illness had merely brought the inevitable forward.

Antoni Kapcia is professor and head of the Centre for Research on Cuba, University of Nottingham

If the political dynamics of Cuba's political transition are to be understood, the three aspects of by Fidel's withdrawal from the leadership - retirement, succession and acceptance - merit examination.

A period of suspension

A world persuaded of the notion of Fidel Castro as a power-hungry despot surrounded by an essentially fidelista apparatus naturally found the idea of his retirement unthinkable. But the Cuban system was always more complex than this caricature, and indeed it had seemed likely from about 2000 that he might well stand down at some point during the decade - probably in 2009, the moment of the revolution's fiftieth anniversary, the end of his leadership of the non-aligned movement, and the anticipated start of a post-George W Bush era.

Also on Cuba's politics and leadership in openDemocracy:

Bella Thomas, "Paradox regained: a conversation with an old comandante in Cuba" (20 August 2003)

Bella Thomas, "Living with Castro" (13 August 2006)

Fred Halliday, "Fidel Castro's legacy: Cuban conversations" (24 August 2006)

Richard Gott, "Fidel remembered: a view of the Cuban revolution" (20 February 2008)

This expectation arose in part from public evidence of Fidel's declining health and ability, but even more from the reality that (as his own acute sense of history would confirm) he could not afford to risk the whole post-1953 revolutionary project because he had stayed too long (see Richard Gott, "Fidel remembered: a view of the Cuban revolution", 20 February 2008). Indeed, by 2005 frustrations were beginning to be expressed on the ground, even among members of the ruling Communist Party, not least with the slow pace and paucity of economic improvement at the grassroots. Even during his post-July 2006 convalescence, everyday Cubans mixed genuine affection and concern for him as a person with a larger impatience; they both worried that the unresolved leadership question would prolong indecision and drift, and cautiously believed that Raúl might offer a realistic hope of necessary economic reform.

Raúl Castro's moment

The question of who would inherit the Cuban leadership was also simplified from abroad, in particular a Fidel-focused tendency to see "succession" as critical to the revolution's future. In fact, there was never any doubt about it, for two main reasons. First, the constitutional successor was, since the revolution's first elections in 1976, bound to be Raúl; hence, only if he too were to refuse when the moment came in 2008 would anyone else be chosen. Second, Raúl's succession was inevitable because of his own historic place in the revolution.

From 26 July 1953, when a group of young rebels led by Fidel attacked the Moncada barracks in Santiago, Raúl accompanied him in everything (the planning and execution of the assault, followed by imprisonment and exile). In the Granma expedition of 1956 that launched the insurrection and the two-year Sierra Maestra guerrilla campaign, Raúl led his own column; after the victory in 1959, he remained a key member of the "inner circle", central to all major decisions and reforms, and especially leading the new Revolutionary Armed Forces (FAR). Throughout, there was never any question of ideological difference with Fidel. The only other leader as close to Fidel, and as influential on him, was Che Guevara. Thus, by 2006, Raúl was after Fidel unquestionably the figure in the leadership with the greatest historical legitimacy.

Moreover, Raúl had a unique base for that legitimacy: the FAR itself. The forces' decades of effective defence, military success in helping its African allies repel South Africa's apartheid-era invasions, and an unparalleled reputation for incorruptibility and economic efficiency gave it a unique status in Cuba - and , distinguished it too from other Latin American militaries. Moreover, Raúl clearly enjoys the FAR's loyalty, making him even more critical in any state crisis.

Among openDemocracy recent articles on Latin American politics:

John Crabtree, "Bolivia's controversial constitution" (10 December 2007)

Ivan Briscoe, "Latin America's dynamic: politics after charisma" (19 December 2007)

Guy Hedgecoe, "Ecuador's politics of expectation" (1 February 2008)

Catalina Holguín, "Colombia: networks of dissent and power" (4 February 2008)

Sergio Aguayo Quezada, "The next American revolution" (2 April 2008)

Jenny Pearce, "Colombia: the near enemies" (9 April 2008)

Andrew Nickson, "Paraguay's historic election" (22 April 2008)

John Crabtree, "Santa Cruz's referendum, Bolivia's choice" (30 April 2008)

Sue Branford, "Brazil's Amazonian choice" (19 May 2008)

That same military association also contributed to Raúl's image outside Cuba as a "hardliner" and "ideologue" - though the portrait had three other ingredients. First, Raúl had (in 1953) belonged to the Socialist Youth wing of the (de facto communist) People's Socialist Party, and had travelled once to eastern Europe as a student; even when Fidel's own "communism" was unclear, this fact helped both brand Raúl as a dangerous "red" and "explain" the revolution's leftward shift. Second, as a guerrilla and then as head of the FAR, Raúl showed ruthlessness when political necessity demanded it. Third, he had in 1959-61 been prominent in developing contacts and favouring close ties with the Soviet Union; a relationship that increased as the FAR came to rely on Soviet arms and training.

In reality, however, Raúl was also known as a flexible and reform-minded politician. In the 1980s, for example, he streamlined the FAR structures using Japanese management experts; and in 1990-95, he spearheaded the unprecedented reforms that rescued a seemingly doomed revolution (introducing the United States dollar, self-employment, cooperative agriculture, and banking reform, and encouraging tourism to replace sugar). His purpose was clear: to protect the revolution, for which he was prepared to try almost anything. Raúl had long been commited to efficiency and knew that the Cuban economy desperately needed this quality. Hence in 2006 many Cubans saw him as the one to straighten the economy with reforms which Fidel, perhaps, would not contemplate (see Bella Thomas, "Living with Castro", 13 August 2006).

Raúl, though, also believes in structure, organisation and effectiveness, with a strong and flexible party at its core. Some critics have interpreted this quality in terms of a character that is "bureaucratic" and shuns the limelight; but the belief also clearly arises from his awareness that Cuba's economic and social advances have been achieved best not via the revolution's characteristic mobilisation and "campaigning" style but when a more stable institutionalised structure could provide the accountability and the channels of two-way communication that constant mobilisation cannot deliver.

Mobilisation vs structure

This point is important because an alternation can be detected in the entire post-1959 period between what might be called "participation through passionate mobilisation" and "participation through structure". This is usually seen as the result of personal preferences, factional struggle or external pressures; but it is best read as a conscious decision each time by leaders aware of the need to balance periodic ideological reinvigoration (especially to combat crisis or low morale, or to build on nationalist energy) with periods of stability and materialism - while one satisfies the soul, the other satisfies the body, but neither can be pursued for long without a cost.

The cost of excessive mobilisation has often been a tendency to ad hoc decisions that subordinate efficiency to politics and exhaust the faithful; while the cost of stability has been a self-perpetuating bureaucratic inertia (leading even to privilege and low-level corruption) and the loss of political fervour. While Fidel may have preferred "mobilisation" and Raúl "structure", this is to over-simplify it, since both have taken the decisions to opt one way or the other.

Nonetheless, by 2005 it was clear that Cuba's experience since 1990 pointed in that direction of the need for "stability". For the context of all these changes is a vital reference-point: the pressures, challenges and discussions since the socialist bloc and then the Soviet Union collapsed in 1989-91, plunging Cuba into a crisis that should have been terminal for the already besieged political system.

What followed 1990 was a simple survival strategy, focusing on urgent economic reforms. By 1994, these were all in place and starting to take effect; from 1995 they generated steady economic growth, saving "the system" from the feared Armageddon. The next five years essentially saw internal debate - at top and bottom, and in all the revolution's organisations - about that "system", identifying those elements of the revolution which should be preserved and those that were more dispensable. That debate eventually arrived at a degree of consensus - a state-directed (but not necessarily state-run) economy, a commitment to social welfare, and a more nationalistic focus; but as it did so, two convulsive experiences catapulted Cuba towards another cycle of the familiar "participation through mobilisation". The first was Pope John Paul II's visit in January 1998, which was celebrated both as signalling the end of isolation and the "rescue" of the revolution, and as a great moment of national unity. The second was the astonishing and unrelenting mass mobilisation in the seven-month campaign in 1999-2000 for the return from the United States of 6-year old Elián González.

The latter experience launched the period known as the "battle of ideas", which (through youth-led mobilisations, revitalised youth organisations, and the involvement of thousands in a new "educational revolution") had the effect of recruiting a potential new generation into the ranks of the faithful. The campaign emphasised ideological reinforcement - through both "ideas" and collective action - that would arm the young to resist the post-1990 corrosion of values, the threat of capitalism and individualism, and the challenge of globalisation.

The "battle" had remarkable achievements to its name - among them new emergency schools, thousands trained as teachers, social workers, and nurses; a consolidation of the new alliance with Hugo Chávez's Venezuela; and a resurrection of the old aid-driven "internationalism". But it also took a toll. In particular, by both relying on and exhausting the commitment and energy of the same party activists who had kept the faith throughout the 1990s, the constant mobilisation also meant a neglect of the party itself (entailing, among other things, the failure to convene the planned 2002 congress). Thus, while ideological batteries were recharged and new energies found, the "system" stagnated. This had dangerous implications for communication, for the desired sense of "stable togetherness" (unlike the "energetic togetherness" which collective campaigning sought to engender), and for the delivery of much-needed comforts.

The system's life

Hence, whoever was president, a period of "stabilisation" beckoned; Raúl's post-July 2006 leadership simply affected its form and pace. As a result, even before February 2008 the party was being strengthened in personnel and structure (its postponed congress is now scheduled for late 2009); there was a renewed emphasis on a culture of discipline (in the party, in commitment, in labour practices, and in the fight against crime and corruption); and reforms were emerging.

These reforms, as could be expected, are not "liberalising" Cuba towards widespread privatisation or capitalism, but are at the economic margins (access to goods, flexibility in housing, higher salaries and pensions, access to comforts) - though they do include include deeper reforms to food production, and thus to agricultural tenure and market mechanisms.

Raúl Castro is well aware that a post-Fidel government relies on the delivery of goods and a rapid visible improvement of grassroots economic wellbeing; there is still no conclusive evidence of a groundswell of popular demand for political change (too many factors militate against that), but if dissatisfaction continues with economic performance at the base (where it matters to most Cubans) it could turn against the government.

Reform is thus urgent, with Raúl referring (for example) to food production as a matter of "national security". If economic changes meet consumer demands, and if the consultations which began in September 2007 continue in the approach to the 2009 congress, then the system may show itself to have plenty of life left in it. The remaining months of 2009 will be decisive, and fascinating to watch, for the future of the familiar and singular Cuban "system"