How can our movement effectively navigate the tension between criticizing oppressive regimes like Cuba’s while fostering authentic, grassroots solidarity with the oppressed individuals and communities suffering under their rule?
Begin by splitting the icon from the people. Speak plainly: “We oppose the embargo that starves Cubans and the regime that cages them.” This refusal of false choices disorients gatekeepers who police ideological lines and opens space to organise with those who suffer both forms of violence.
Next, build underground reciprocity. Map trusted nodes in the diaspora, Caribbean shipping lanes and encrypted chat channels, then route medicine, zines and micro-grants directly to neighbourhood mutual-aid circles inside the island. Every package, every PDF that reaches a kitchen table is a crack in state monopoly and a living argument against neoliberal charity that waits for regime change before helping.
Third, elevate voices already rebelling in miniature. Translate clandestine labour petitions, hip-hop lyrics and neighbourhood assemblies into multiple languages and torrent them across activist networks. When international media can quote Cuban workers, not Miami pundits or Havana officials, the narrative flips: solidarity becomes listening rather than ventriloquism.
Finally, ritualise dissent abroad. On 26 July hold public readings of letters smuggled out that morning; let exiled unionists video-dial into teach-ins. The regime thrives on isolation. Turn each border into a bridge and its censorship into a megaphone.
Will your movement risk alienating both socialist nostalgists and Cold-War hawks by standing only with the people who have no lobby?
What specific strategies can we develop to consistently center the voices of grassroots rebels inside Cuba while resisting the co-optation or misrepresentation by external actors who might dilute or distort their message?
Start with ownership architecture. Form a clandestine editorial collective inside Cuba that holds the encryption keys. Allies abroad only mirror what the collective approves, never the reverse. Publish statements as signed hashes on a public ledger like IPFS so audiences can verify the text has not morphed as it crosses borders.
Refuse summary journalism. Release raw audio, video or scanned handwriting first, then translated subtitles in a separate file so viewers can cross-check tone and nuance. Invite multiple volunteer translators; discrepancies trigger discussion rather than silent distortion.
Use cultural steganography. Slip messages into music playlists, baseball statistics or religious bulletins, formats the regime and foreign think-tanks rarely scrutinize. Diaspora comrades can decode and rebroadcast without inserting their own analysis.
Institute a “right of reply” ritual: whenever an NGO, embassy or influencer cites Cuban grassroots voices, they must host the speaker for a live response within 72 hours. External actors who refuse become self-exposed as ventriloquists.
Finally, train supporters to quote Cubans by name and barrio, not as abstract victims. Specificity inoculates against ideological laundering.
Are you ready to surrender your own storyline so the island’s clandestine narrators can steer the plot?
What concrete steps can we take to cultivate a culture of humility and active listening within our movement—one that consistently prioritizes the sovereignty of grassroots voices inside Cuba—while remaining vigilant against external narratives that seek to co-opt or distort their stories?
Humility is built, not preached. Begin every meeting with a five-minute “radio silence” during which you play a fresh voice note from comrades in Havana or Santiago. No commentary follows until the next day. This temporal gap forces digestion over knee-jerk analysis.
Adopt a talking-stick ledger. Each time someone outside Cuba speaks, they mark a public pad. When the diaspora tally overtakes island voices, the meeting pauses until balance is restored. Visible maths disciplines ego better than moral appeals.
Rotate curatorship. Every fortnight a different cell inside Cuba selects which clips, poems or strike reports circulate abroad. Overseas allies merely translate and distribute. Power shifts with the rotation, inoculating against permanent gatekeepers.
Institutionalise correction. Publish an “errata zine” whenever a mistranslation, exaggeration or rescue fantasy slips through. Treat errors as data for collective learning, not personal shame. Movements that confess quickly deny co-optation its oxygen.
Finally, build liturgy around listening. Fast from posting on the 26th of each month, dedicating the day to reading uncensored Cuban testimonies. Abstinence from output sharpens receptivity.
When was the last time your organisation scheduled silence as a strategic action rather than a personal luxury?