The Cuban Exodus

The Cuban Exodus

So long as Cubans’ rage and despair remain, the government cannot afford to curtail emigration. And there is no end in sight.

On April 1, 1980, six Cubans seeking asylum crashed a city bus through the gates of the Peruvian embassy in Havana. The Cuban embassy security detail tried to stop the van but failed, inadvertently killing one of their own in the crossfire. The Peruvian government refused to return the refugees to the Cuban government. Fidel Castro tried to strongarm them by removing the security detail, but this proved to be a grave miscalculation: thousands more raced into the embassy to claim asylum, turning what was initially a minor scandal into a major international event. After an extended siege, the Cuban government resolved the situation by allowing those unhappy with life on the island to leave via the port of Mariel. Ferried by an improvised private fleet of boats, mostly from Florida, around 125,000 Cubans left the island over the subsequent months.

We are now living through another exodus, compared to which the Mariel Boatlift is a pale shadow. Cuba’s population had stagnated for years at just north of 11 million, but over the past half decade, between one and two million have left the country as immigrants. Combined with an aging population, just north of 8 million people remain on the island (according to calculations by Cuban scholar Juan Carlos Albizu-Campos), contra the official figure of 9.7 million.

These figures are staggering for any country not in a state of war. And unlike the Mariel Boatlift, this exodus has not been met with government-organized protests to insult those leaving as “lumpen” or “worms” or “trash”; if anything, the government has encouraged them, by facilitating entry into Nicaragua without a visa, ensuring that those who have the money can get out. Emigration is now a pressure valve, letting off some of the rage and despair that exploded in mass protests in 2021, with repeated flare-ups every year since.

So long as the rage and despair remain, the government cannot afford to close the valve. And there is no end in sight. The implicit deal of the Raúl Castro era, where the Communist Party would maintain its monopoly on power in exchange for economic growth, is dead and buried, and with it the hope that things will get better anytime soon.

When I arrived in Havana in February 2024, I had a much easier time than on previous trips. I got waved through customs with minimal questions; the massive room where snaking lines of tourists and other visitors typically move over the course of an hour was empty, save for the passengers from my flight. Still, baggage claim took almost an hour, because every passenger had multiple extra bags, each stuffed to bursting. A fellow passenger, frustrated by the delay, explained the reason: “Hay hambre” (“There is hunger”). Much of the luggage was full of food and medicine. As I waited for my bags, I noticed a large advertisement for a seemingly private comp...