Cuba Journal
Business

Europe’s Cuba Agreement Has Become a Door With No Handle

The European Parliament’s new call to suspend its Cuba cooperation agreement exposes the failure of a decade-long wager on engagement without consequence. The diplomatic opening born beside the 2015–2017 thaw is becoming another closed historical window.

Natalia Suyos ·

5 min read

A weathered doorway on a Havana street.

A door is useful only if somebody can open it from both sides.

For nearly a decade, Europe kept one standing for Cuba. It was not a grand entrance. It did not promise an end to the embargo, a democratic transition, or even a dependable conversation. The European Union’s Political Dialogue and Cooperation Agreement was a side door: a practical, bureaucratic door, installed in the years when bureaucratic doors still seemed preferable to walls. It was signed in December 2016 and applied provisionally from November 1, 2017, as the brief weather system of the Obama opening was already beginning to pass. (consilium.europa.eu)

On September 17, the European Parliament said, in effect, that the handle has come off.

By 374 votes to 198, with 19 abstentions, Parliament called on the European Union to suspend its cooperation agreement with Havana unless the regime takes concrete and verifiable steps toward multiparty democracy. It also urged sanctions against those responsible for repression, naming Miguel Díaz-Canel. The resolution is nonbinding. The Council may ignore it. Brussels is very good at preserving things in the condition known as not-yet-decided. But a nonbinding vote can still tell the truth about a binding reality: Europe’s experiment in critical engagement with the Cuban state is no longer defended as an experiment. It is defended, at best, as a habit. (agenceurope.eu)

That is the real news beneath the parliamentary arithmetic.

Cuba’s government has learned to live with enemies. It knows how to arrange the old props: Washington’s embargo, Miami’s fury, the revolutionary poster peeled from a wall and pasted back up for another ceremony. An American sanction is useful to Havana because it arrives already translated into the regime’s preferred language. It can be called aggression before the ink dries.

Europe was always harder to explain away.

The European agreement was born from an unfashionable premise: that contact could create leverage; that trade, technical cooperation, cultural exchange and human-rights dialogue might open the state without flattering it; that Cuba could not remain forever inside the sealed jar of its own mythology. The agreement replaced the old European “Common Position,” a policy built around conditionality and visible democratic progress. In 2016, Federica Mogherini called the new arrangement a turning point, offering support for Cuba’s economic and social modernization. (consilium.europa.eu)

It was a wager on motion.

The wager now looks less like a bridge than a revolving door. Europe entered with programs, forums, agricultural cooperation, energy meetings and human-rights consultations. The Cuban state entered with its customary vocabulary of sovereignty and blockade. But the regime did not move through the door. It stood in the doorway, collecting the benefits of engagement while refusing the consequence that engagement was supposed to make unavoidable: accountability.

A government that arrests opponents, exiles critics as the price of release, and keeps political life under military and party supervision does not become less repressive because it attends a dialogue on sustainable development. It becomes more fluent in the paperwork of legitimacy.

That is why the European Parliament’s vote matters even if it produces no immediate suspension. It registers the collapse of a particular European illusion: that the Cuban system could be coaxed, through respectful proximity, into becoming something other than itself. The Parliament’s language is unusually direct because the evidence has ceased to be subtle. Its resolution links the island’s political repression to the humanitarian catastrophe, rather than treating the two as separate compartments. That is a point Havana’s defenders hate because it removes the last excuse for administrative fatalism. The shortages are not merely an external punishment. The blackouts are not simply weather. The flight of citizens is not an unfortunate demographic breeze. They are the material exhaust of a political machine designed to avoid correction.

The machine cannot admit error because error would imply an alternative. It cannot permit an independent union because a worker might speak without permission. It cannot permit an independent press because a fact might arrive before the official explanation. It cannot permit a competitive election because the entire arrangement rests on the proposition that Cubans have already made their final political choice.

Europe’s agreement was supposed to test that proposition gently. The test has run long enough.

Still, the case for keeping the door open deserves more than a sneer. Suspending the agreement would not repair a power station, fill a pharmacy, or release a prisoner by itself. The European Union remains one of the few external actors able to speak to Havana without adopting Washington’s posture of economic siege. Its development and humanitarian channels reach areas where ordinary Cubans cannot afford another international quarrel conducted over their heads. Europe’s own diplomatic service describes the agreement as “critical but constructive engagement,” and argues that it creates regular forums to press human-rights concerns while sustaining cooperation. (eeas.europa.eu)

There is force in that argument. Cuba does not need fewer outside witnesses. It needs more. And the island’s people should not be made to pay for the regime’s sins through the disappearance of useful assistance or civic contact.

But engagement is not the same thing as inertia. A door left open after the house has been emptied is not diplomacy. It is a draft.

The choice before Europe is not between tenderness and cruelty, dialogue and punishment, Cuba and its people. It is whether the agreement still serves the people whose rights gave it its moral basis. If the answer is no, then preserving the agreement in its present form is not even-handedness. It is the institutional version of looking away.

The sharper irony is historical. The agreement belongs to the same narrow interval as the 2015–2017 opening: that moment when states mistook a change in temperature for a change in climate. Washington reopened an embassy. European capitals designed a new framework. Investors, diplomats and cultural emissaries saw a country at last becoming available to the future.

Then the window shut.

It will not reopen by reenacting the gestures that belonged to it. There is no restoration available here, no return flight to the Obama years, no diplomatic nostalgia capable of rebuilding the conditions that made that opening possible. Cuba’s regime has changed by hardening. The region has changed by tiring. Europe has changed by discovering that dialogue without consequence is not dialogue at all.

So the side door stands now in Brussels, its brass plate dulled, its frame swollen by years of rain. Havana insists it remains an entrance. Europe’s Parliament has begun to say it is an exit.

A door is useful only if somebody can open it from both sides.

Natalia Suyos writes for Cuba Journal on Business.