Septiembre 5-11 2024
New restrictions limit Cubans' entertainment/Regime's touted MLC stores create shopping apartheid/Cuban farmers: The regime owes us 3 months' back pay. Of course productivity is tanking!
Hola and welcome,
This week’s three scoops show how the regime’s restrictive policies—and unfulfilled commitments—are making life harder for average Cubans.
Elsewhere in Latin America, it was a tough week for democracy and the separation of powers.
Venezuela’s Maduro succeeded in forcing 74-year-old Edmundo Gonzáles Urrutia, the opposition’s president-elect, into exile. González, who’d taken refuge in the Netherland’s embassy in Caracas, fled to Spain Sunday. He issued a statement saying Maduro’s threats, coercion, and blackmail had left him two choices: exile or prison (on false charges). While the opposition has produced tallies to back their claim of winning, Maduro has not. But he did manage to mess with Venezuelans’ calendars, decreeing that Christmas will begin 1 October. It’s his way of of thanking his supporters in this time of “peace, joy, and security.” The families of scores of children—some as young as 13—who were jailed during post-election anti-Maduro protests surely disagree with his assessment of the times. At least 100 teens remain behind bars.
Hondura’s president, Xiomara Castro, ordered the end of the country’s long-standing extradition treaty with the US—just before a video surfaced of her brother-in-law negotiating campaign donations from a known narco trafficker. Thousands protested the treaty’s cancellation, and critics are calling for her resignation.
Mexico’s outgoing president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, still controls the political machine and is close to enacting “judicial reforms” that would replace 7,000 judges and make candidates stand for election. Mexicans are protesting in the streets, saying the new law would be the end of an independent judiciary and would make judges more loyal to their parties or constituents than to the constitution. A crowd broke down the door to the Senate building on Tuesday, forcing lawmakers to postpone a debate on the controversial reforms. But AMLO’s reforms sailed through the last parliamentary hurdle on Wednesday and are expected to be ratified by the 32 Mexican states, where AMLO’s party has strong support.
Cuba’s leader, Miguel Díaz Canel, has not stopped expressing total solidarity with all three governments—and demanding the US cease meddling in other countries’ affairs.
Meanwhile, Venezuela’s opposition accuses Cuba’s military and secret police of controlling their country—for the last 20 years. One of the protestors’ chants after the election was, “We won’t be another Cuba.”
My stubborn optimism begs for a bright side in all of this, and I think I found it—at least for Hondurans and Mexicans. They can still protest publicly without too much fear.
All of this reminds me of my favorite quote from one of my favorite authors.
“The difference between the communist and capitalist systems is that, although both give you a kick in the ass, in the communist system you have to applaud, while in the capitalist system you can scream. And I came here to scream.”
—Before Night Falls, Cuban writer Reinaldo Arenas’s memoir about government persecution of homosexuals in post-revolutionary Cuba.
Uno—No more Turkish telenovelas for you!
The regime is gunning for one of Cubans’ guiltiest—and illegal—pleasures: the weekly “paquete,” a contraband download of foreign programs and movies.
Alarm bells are ringing for the distributors and fans of “el paquete,” a weekly download of foreign programs/films sold—illegally—throughout Cuba.
“This is the last one [paquete] I can sell because they’re cracking down and confiscating things,” a cuentapropista (“self-interested” merchant) told 14ymedio.
Most Cubans see state-run TV programming censored, boring, and propagandistic, so they rely on el paquete for much-needed diversion amidst the current economic crisis.
The government tried to break up the paquete’s distribution ring but ended up turning a blind eye—as long as the material wasn’t political, violent, or pornographic.
Cultural authorities never accepted el paquete and accused it of fomenting frivolity and bad taste, and “poisoning young minds.” The government even tried to develop an alternative paquete for teens, but it never took off. So for over a decade Cubans have been bringing CDs or USB or flash drives to audio-visual stores and asking to be “loaded up with el paquete.”
That “I see nothing” attitude that allowed paqueteros to skirt censorship is over. In August the regime added 19 new regulations to further restrict the private businesses it allows. Among these was an increase—to 125—of the kinds of economic activity prohibited in Cuba’s small private sector.
The new prohibition of “cinematic exhibitions, including films, documentaries, series, telenovelas and similar works, and making these available to the public using computer equipment” made out clear: the regime was pulling the plug on el paquete.
A resident of Nuevo Vedado, in Havana, summed up the bleak scenario to 14ymedio. “I don’t know what I’ll do without my Turkish telenovela, it’s the only thing that keeps me sane, because things are so difficult that without that I’m gonna go nuts.” Her supplier told her he couldn’t deliver the goods anymore and was looking for a job at a pizzeria. “He worked for more than eight years at this and everyone in the barrio knows him, he’s serious and efficient,” she told the paper. “It doesn’t make sense, it’s not the moment to prohibit more things, they should be opening things up.”
“The person who sends me the original, that I then copy and sell to my clients, the police went after him and took his hard drives, computers, and everything he used for his business,” a businesswoman told 14ymedio.
“Nothing, not even Little Red Riding Hood can be sold on video,” complained one paquetero. “Let’s see how they stop this because what’s going to happen is people are going to close their shops and they’ll send the paquete to their clients’ homes via messengers. It’s just going to complicate the game, but people are still going to need to entertain themselves. This isn’t going to make people watch Mesa Redonda (propagandistic talk show).
The prevailing opinion among 14ymedio sources is that the measure’s goal is to stop the flow of content critical of the communist model, testimonies about Putin’s abuses in Ukraine, documentaries about Stalin, historical content on the Cuban regime’s repression.
No one knows if the paquete-busting regulations will succeed or will turn out to be another absurd prohibition vanquished by reality.
Dos—Only Cubans with euros and dollars can shop at regime’s touted MLC stores—but their going to need a clerk on the inside to get that rice cooker
The regime pays 75% of Cubans in pesos. But it sells highly touted goods at MLC (moneda libremente convertible) stores that only accept hard currency—not that euros or dollars guarantee they’ll find what they’re looking for.
MLC stores, created and run by the regime in 2019, were supposed to help end Cuba’s hard currency shortage and offer citizens better quality and quantities of basic goods. But the lucky Cubans with access to the yens, euros, and dollars needed to purchase goods in MLC stores are complaining bitterly about the quantity, quantity, and price of products in the stores.
“The majority of what they sell is of no interest to anyone and, when there is something worth buying, like electrical appliances, the employees make their deals on the side [with resellers, friend or customers who’ve paid for their help] and regular people are left empty-handed,” explained Manuel, a shopper sitting outside an MLC store in Cienfuegos, to 14ymedio.
“It took me five months to buy a rice cooker,” said Indira, another shopper. “The manager kept telling me they would arrive soon. Then I found out that, yes, a small quantity had arrived but immediately ended up in resellers’ hands,” the frustrated house wife said. To make things worse, she adds, between the bad service (it would be hard to be smiling when you’re paid that poorly), the power outages, and the electronic payment failures it’s almost impossible to make a purchase.
Cuba has struggled to maintain hard currency reserves since the revolution came to power in 1959. So it makes sense for the regime, which strictly limits who can import goods, to secure the hard currency that circulates on the island. Most of that is from remittances from relatives living abroad. Remittances represent one of the highest sources of income in the Cuban economy.
Cuba doesn’t publish statistics on remittances and doesn’t collaborate with international financial institutions that provide unbiased statistics, like the World Bank. But researchers like The Center for Strategic and International Studies say remittances are Cuba’s third largest source of dollar reserves (after service and tourism sectors).
The information that Cuba does make public is limited to only some sectors of GDP and are presented in dollar amounts at exchange rate of 1 peso to 1 dollar. But the other GDP sectors are presented at the rate set by the Central Bank of Cuba, 24 pesos to 1 dollar. That rate is no where near the actual exchange rate on the black market, which in recent years surpassed a 400 pesos to 1 dollar exchange rate.
To put this in context, if the official exchange rate were used, Cuba’s GDP would be estimated at $20.5 billion versus the $103 billion the government reports. Remittances from relatives are estimated to be $6.6 billion (in cash or material goods) of that $20.5 billion, medical missions sent abroad are estimated at $6.4 billion, and the rest of the economy at $7.5 billion.
MLC stores only accept government issued debit cards for a set amount. Remittances to Cuban recipients are generally wired into the Cuban Central Bank, the only bank in Cuba. The value of the debit card is unredeemable other than in the MLC store. CSIS estimates that over two thirds of all Cubans receive or rely on assistance from relatives abroad.
The wired money is processed by Cimex, which is owned by the military’s GAESA conglomerate. The company, headquartered in Panama, is believed to control at least 75% of the economy, including the most lucrative sectors, like tourism. CSIS estimates that for every $1 of remittances sent via Western Union and later spent in GAESA shops, the military gains 74 cents, 61 of which comes from store sales.
It’s important to remember that 75% of Cubans are employed by the state and are paid in pesos. An average monthly state salary is about 3000 ($125 at official exchange rate) pesos. A large carton of eggs, if you can find one, today sells on the black market for about 5000 pesos ($208 at the official exchange rate). Most Cubans rely on the black market to access scarce basic staples—even though the prices are exorbitant and the activity illegal.
“That’s almost a doctor’s salary in my province,” said Edmundo Dantés Junior on Facebook, denouncing the sky-high price of eggs.
The regime had promised to use profits from the new MLC stores to improve the quantity and quality of goods it sells in rationed goods stores—which accept pesos. But there is no sign of that improvement, according to Yoani Sánchez on her 5 September podcast.
Sánchez believes the regime is paying an extremely high political price for its MLCs. Older Cubans, who tend to be more ideologically aligned with the regime, are less likely to have access to hard currency than younger citizens. “This has been a hit to the regime’s own rank and file, its own militants.”
Tres—Slogans don’t produce food—fairly-paid farmers do.
Cuban farmers are complaining about the regime’s delay in paying them for their crop quotas—a regular occurance. The regime says it’s the farmers who are failing—to “feed the Cuban people.”
“It’s been three months since we’ve been paid, in pesos, and they haven’t given us our bonuses in hard currency for surpassing [our quotas]” says Cuban farmer Juan Carlos Durán Rodríguez. The dairy farmer made that point in a debate between authorities and local producers in Cienfuegos Province. Another agricultural worker said the state’s failure to pay is one of the causes of a 98% drop in rice production at her cooperative in Cienfuegos between 2018 and 2023.
The impact of the missed payments made headlines in the state-controlled newspaper 5 de Septiembre. “The accumulation of non-payments [by the state] to rice and milk producers, along with the devaluation [initiated January 2019] of the peso [by the state]” are the main concerns expressed by farmers in Aguda de Pasajeros. Some farmers are allowed to sell to the private sector, but only after meeting quotas “owed” to the government at prices the government sets.
“By not paying us on time, they’re almost forcing us to work less, because we live from milk production here, that’s how we provide for our family, pay for electricity, fund investments,” Durán Rodríguez said at the meeting.
Rice producers have been faring even worse than dairy farmers. The state-owned company Empresa Agroindustrial de Granos declared itself “illiquid” and has not paid rice producers for four months. It’s not the only one.
“Last year I went five months without getting paid, and now the same. . . To repair a tractor costs me between 200,000 and 300,000 pesos,” Pedro López Izquierdo, a producer of rice, sugar cane, and other crops, said at the meeting. “I don’t care if it’s a little less than promised . . . the danger is when they don’t pay at all, because that puts the brake on production, and we make our living from what we produce.”
A representative from a large cooperative in Cienfuegos said the nonpayments are partly responsible for the dramatic drop in her co-op’s rice production. “. . .If in 2018 we delivered 68,000 quintales (about 7500 tons), this season we’ve produced 1,600 quintiles (about 176 tons).
The farmers are also frustrated by Cuba’s 2019 banking and monetary reforms, which require Cubans to use electronic banking. “You go to the bodega and they don’t have cash, neither does the bank, and that is very limiting because we have to pay for things with cash,” complained Durán Rodríguez.
Farm work in Cuba, especially during summer months, is brutally physical. With massive emigration underway, agricultural workers are even more difficult to find. When producers manage to find them, workers demand payment in hard currency (cash) or in merchandise [which they can sell or consume].
Like many Cubans, they reject the regime’s push for electronic transactions. With rolling power outages, banks and ATMS that routinely run out of cash, and the sky-high inflation, they don’t trust the banking system—or the value of the national currency.