Emilio Arteaga: How Socialism Revives Slavery in the West Today (Part 2)
Read Part 1.
Yesterday, the slave trade in the West focused on unskilled labor, but today, Cuban socialism has revived slave practices for decades — albeit with professionals. It has done so through the “export of services.” Under the guise of “humanitarianism” or “solidarity,” it openly and systematically exploits its workers, “in collaboration with private companies, governments, and international organizations,” according to the NGO Archivo Cuba. In this hemisphere, forced labor is condemned as a practice similar to slavery.
It is not surprising to think that if Christianity, with the British abolitionist movement at the forefront, truncated the practice in much of the world, it is socialism that will bring it back. The Cuban author José Martí, as early as the 19th century, recognized this ideology as “the future slavery.”
Doctors, nurses, medical technicians, teachers, sports coaches, musicians, sailors, architects, geologists, tobacco workers, construction workers — Cuba has state-owned companies that exploit the services of all of them, mostly by sending them temporarily abroad on “internationalist missions,” according to Archivo Cuba.
“They are exported like merchandise for two or three years in unusual secret agreements with governments or companies. From 55% to 75% of exported services are in the health sector; Cuba and its allies dedicate a lot of propaganda to glorifying the practice and concealing its darker aspects. These provide the Cuban dictatorship with enormous income and symbolic capital (prestige, influence, goodwill) that translates into countless political benefits, including votes in international organizations,” the organization stated.
Emilio Arteaga was part of these “missions” in South America and Africa. His story offers a stark picture of the semi-slave-like conditions that thousands of Cubans still endure today. From his exile in Spain, where he arrived after a harrowing journey, he shares his testimony with us.
The story of how you escaped from Africa is harrowing, a kind of modern-day maroonage. What led you to “desert,” as the Castro regime calls it?
A series of personal events, material and existential circumstances that had been accumulating since I lived in Cuba led me to “desert.” Above all, weariness, disappointment, and disgust with that regime that shamelessly exploited me and wouldn’t let me be myself.
The trigger was a meeting where I was taken before the highest leadership of the mission, right there in the Namibian Ministry of Health. They came after me with evidence (several screenshots) of comments I’d made on social media that, according to them, contained counterrevolutionary content. Among them was a simple meme.
That same afternoon I made the decision to escape. And at midnight, I left the house where I was living. It was September 28th, coincidentally a date of revolutionary veneration for Castroism: the day of the neighborhood watch network named the Committees for the Defense of the Revolution.
I spent several months in hiding in a place opened for me by Namibian and Cuban friends living in that African country. It was desperate. It was very agonizing waiting for the second step I had planned: leaving Namibia, where I feared that the political police and the mission authorities, who had signed an agreement with the Namibian government, would pursue me to send me back to Cuba.
Finally, I reached the border with South Africa. When I crossed it, I felt a great relief. And from there, I took a flight to Madrid, Spain, thanks to the support of friends and family who lived outside of Cuba.
A story close to my family is that of a cardiologist who left the island and was banned from entering for several years, to the point that he couldn’t even see his mother before she died. What consequences do Cuban doctors who flee face, and what have you personally experienced?
The consequences of desertion are all described in the Cuban Penal Code.
The worst are the prohibitions on returning to the island for eight years or, directly, imprisonment. For this reason, there are many stories of forced family separation.
In my case, since arriving in Spain, I have been a vocal activist against that regime. So, that “no return” is permanent, or at least until the power of that mafia falls.
There is an economy of individuals who profit from this trafficking of professional services. It ranges from the Castro regime’s inner circle to a series of mid-level officials who, both on and off the island, receive salaries and benefits associated with human trafficking. In a future Cuba, should they all be tried?
In a free Cuba, all those who have been part of this scheme of human trafficking and modern slavery must be brought to justice. Absolutely.
If possible, I myself will be present at those trials as a witness. Don’t doubt it.
How do you interpret the complicity of supranational organizations like the Pan American Health Organization (PAHO) and the Caribbean Community (CARICOM) in this scheme of semi-slavery?
PAHO’s complicity is shameful.
Don’t forget that these organizations are all aligned with the Cuban regime due to the sympathy and ideological proximity of their directors to ideas from the left-wing political spectrum.
Furthermore, they also take their share of the economic profits from the large sums of money that states pay for the export of Cuban doctors.
They, too, must answer to international justice for the crimes of human trafficking and modern slavery.
Spain has historically been a key voice in shaping the European Union’s position toward Hispanic countries, including Cuba. However, under the governments of the Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party (PSOE) or Podemos, we haven’t seen any criticism of human trafficking by Havana. Why do you think this is?
Spain’s direct complicity with the Cuban regime is well known and constantly denounced by Cuban exiles living in Europe.
This passivity in the face of Castro’s excesses is a direct result of the power the Left and its parties have held in this country for several years now. And, as you say, it includes established parties like the PSOE as well as newer ones like Podemos.
They all continue to see Cuba as an international “revolutionary” role model.
But among ordinary people, that perception is changing significantly. The Spanish people are increasingly informed about the reality on the island through the free flow of information on social media.
Recently, the Trump administration sanctioned Brazilian officials and former PAHO officials for facilitating the trafficking of professionals through the Cuban medical mission in Brazil and has also pressured other Caribbean states to close those that are still operating. Despite these steps, how much more could the White House do?
Now is the time to increase all pressure from the United States administration against the regime — on all fronts and in all parts of the world.
The members of the inner circle in Havana are experts at camouflage and stalling. Especially in each of the countries where they still maintain brigades of enslaved doctors.
One measure I would recommend is the creation of a company or foundation that would establish the legal mechanisms to rehabilitate and reactivate the many doctors who have deserted and are scattered around the world. This way, our talent can be utilized, now free, according to the needs of the communities where we currently reside.
Yoe Suárez is a writer, producer, and journalist, exiled from Cuba due to his investigative reporting about themes like torture, political prisoners, government black lists, cybersurveillance, and freedom of expression and conscience. He is the author of the books "Leviathan: Political Police and Socialist Terror" and "El Soplo del Demonio: Violence and Gangsterism in Havana."


