Havana photo by Juan Suarez

By Francisco Acevedo

HAVANA TIMES – Today I want to address the US government’s blockade against Cuba, the one that has existed for more than 60 years, but which is only now really being felt by those who should be feeling it: the dictators.

Of course it exists and has an impact on the population, especially because the State has tried to take responsibility for everything, from the daily production of bread to space exploration, and that is where everything gets complicated.

Two realities coexist in Cuba that, at first glance, seem incompatible.

On the one hand, there are denunciations of an economic blockade that limits access to markets, credit, technology and sources of financing, while on the other, social media displays daily offers of cooking oil, gasoline, diesel, food, spare parts and all kinds of imported goods. Many of these promotions come from private companies (MSMEs), which apparently manage to bring products onto the island with a frequency and variety that are difficult to ignore.

So the question is inevitable: if private businesses are now receiving containers of cooking oil practically every day, why does the product remain scarce or inaccessible to a large part of the population?

The answer cannot be reduced to a slogan: neither can everything be explained by the blockade, nor does the existence of imported goods demonstrate that this factor is irrelevant.

The problem lies in the way external restrictions combine with the domestic economic model, unequal distribution, prices, opacity and state control.

The fact that cooking oil, fuel or food reaches the country does not necessarily mean that these products are available to all Cubans.

In many cases, these are goods intended for a segment of the population able to pay in foreign currency, or in national currency at prices far above average wages, and there is no guarantee of widespread distribution.

The product may be sold through private channels, specific establishments or informal networks; it may end up concentrated in certain cities, in the tourism sector or in businesses with privileged access to suppliers; and it may also be resold at prices several times higher than the original cost.

Therefore, the question is not only how much enters the country, but who can buy it, who distributes it, under what rules and at what profit margin.

The Cuban economy has a long tradition of confusing availability with accessibility, because a product can physically exist and, at the same time, be beyond the reach of the majority.

The presence of cooking oil in a particular private business does not mean that there is oil available through the ration book, in state-run markets or on the table of a low-income family.

Amid the blockade, which is real but is focused primarily on anything that smacks of the Government, all kinds of things arrive in Cuba from the United States. No other country sends more goods to the island, even though this is trade between companies rather than governments. Nor should we forget that many of these supposedly private Cuban companies are controlled by the State through front men, the children of government officials, and so on.

US exports to the island have demonstrated that, even under significant financial and commercial restrictions, there is a legal channel for selling certain products.

The problem is that Cuba does not face only an external-access problem. It also has serious problems with domestic production, transportation, fuel, storage, port infrastructure, financing and distribution.

Importing cooking oil—to refer only to the product currently in greatest demand—requires foreign currency, but selling it on a stable basis also requires an efficient logistics chain.

If a private business imports a product at high cost, faces expensive transportation, banking difficulties, taxes, storage expenses and market risks, it will probably have to sell it at a price far above the international price, and the consumer ends up paying not only for the oil but for all the accumulated inefficiencies surrounding its arrival.

Facebook posts have an important political impact because they show a Cuba different from the one portrayed in official discourse: a Cuba where products, trucks, fuel and merchandise exist, even though they are sold at prohibitive prices.

But those images can lead to an incomplete conclusion, because the fact that goods are being offered on social media does not mean that the market is functioning normally.

The question “Where is the blockade?” carries weight as a criticism of the single-cause explanation. If imports are constantly arriving, it is insufficient to attribute every shortage exclusively to US sanctions.

The Cuban government should publish data on import volumes, the main suppliers, purchase prices and distribution mechanisms, and it should also explain which companies receive permits and why.

The real contradiction is that some products arrive, but they do not reach people equitably; they exist, but they are not accessible; they are imported, but they are not distributed transparently.

Until that gap is honestly examined, Cubans will continue seeing containers, advertisements and merchandise on the internet while searching in vain for cooking oil for their homes.

Another matter is whether, when the coveted product does appear, people can actually afford it, because in less than two months its price has tripled, apparently because it is not reaching state warehouses—as if the meager half liter distributed through the ration book had any real effect on the black-market price.

The State has tried to cap prices, but by brute force, just as it tried to impose a change in the exchange rate for the dollar, as though sheer willpower were enough to guarantee prosperity. But the economy does not work that way. Since time immemorial, it has been about supply and demand: if you have dollars or cooking oil to sell, you can set a price; otherwise, it is nothing but meaningless verbiage.

In the end, of course we live under a blockade, but more than anything we are blockaded by a lack of common sense, because a small group of people refuses to relinquish power and wants a country to exist according to its own rules when it is incapable of supplying its own basic needs.

The attempt is to defend a political project disconnected from reality, and sovereignty does not mean isolating oneself or denying limitations but rather building real capabilities.

Without self-criticism, planning and openness, the blockade ultimately becomes both external and internal.

Read more from Cuba here on Havana Times.