HAVANA TIMES – Medical missions, the only avenue of economic escape for healthcare professionals living in Cuba, remain under scrutiny by the United Nations, the European Parliament, and independent organizations such as Prisoners Defenders, which link them to labor exploitation practices.
These organizations believe that the Cuban government has maintained a pattern of forced labor in its labor export programs, which include not only medical missions, although these account for the largest share.
Cuban law provides for prison sentences of three to eight years for government-affiliated workers who fail to complete an assignment abroad or do not return to Cuba when it ends. This provision is used as a threat against those participating in overseas work missions.
Any citizen who severs ties with the Cuban state knows that doing so may mean waiting nearly a decade before setting foot on the island again, a major deterrent for those who leave family members behind. This condition is not explicitly written into any official document, but it is taken into account when assigning missions, since people who do not have children or living parents residing in Cuba are not considered for overseas assignments.
Evidently, the Cuban Constitution does not regard this as labor exploitation, even when threats of retaliation and other coercive practices by state officials are involved.
However, the Ministry of Justice has prosecuted people who abandoned state-sponsored work programs after reporting exploitation.
At this point, it is worth clarifying that the term “forced labor” would not entirely hold up in court, because doctors and other workers voluntarily travel wherever they are assigned, knowing that working conditions are far from ideal.
In fact, several have confessed to me that they prefer the most remote locations because they enjoy far greater benefits when they are away from the watchful eyes of those who supervise their work. They also save themselves many hours of meetings and attendance at all kinds of political activities organized by mission leaders.
That said, the fact that they agree to play along does not mean they are not being exploited. For starters, it is hardly normal to be prevented from having a normal social life in your surroundings. They are not allowed to establish friendships with local residents, travel freely even within the same city, or enjoy any nightlife, except when attending official events where they are used politically to advance the authorities’ interests.
If we add to this the fact that their salaries are inadequate, with amounts varying somewhat from country to country but generally following a split of 20 percent for the worker and 80 percent for the Cuban state, then we can indeed speak of exploitation.
What the Cuban Government Says and Does
At international forums, the government has tried to defend its position by claiming that the revenue collected is used for projects benefiting society. But one need only look at the condition of healthcare facilities themselves, the lack of medicines, and the absence of adequate conditions for treatments and surgeries. Contrast that, for example, with the construction of the ostentatious Torre K Hotel, which consistently maintains an occupancy rate below 10 percent.
This very week, the Cuban military’s hotel group, Gaviota, officially acknowledged that nearly nine out of every ten of its rooms are out of service, while simultaneously promoting the reopening of a luxury hotel in Varadero.
According to information released Friday by the tourism conglomerate, which belongs to Grupo de Administración Empresarial S.A. (Gaesa), of the more than 30,000 rooms it claims to own across the island, only 3,470 are operational, equivalent to just 11.6 percent of its capacity.
The consortium’s sales director, Elia Elena Cortes, said during a presentation at Havana’s Paseo del Prado Hotel that the rooms currently in operation are concentrated in Havana, Varadero, Topes de Collantes, and Cayo Santa María.
It was also reported that the island received just 450,353 international visitors between January and August 2026, a 64.4 percent decline compared to the same period the previous year. Traditional source markets such as Canada and Russia experienced year-over-year declines of more than 70 percent.
Over the past few months, seven foreign hotel chains have pulled out of the country, while airlines such as Air Canada, Iberia, Air France, and Turkish Airlines have suspended flights because of the fuel crisis and falling demand.
Back in July, Cuban Prime Minister Manuel Marrero acknowledged that 73 percent of the country’s hotel facilities remained closed and that approximately 25,000 workers in the sector were on standby, meaning they had no work assignments.
All of this points to a projected 10.3 percent decline in Cuba’s gross domestic product this year, the largest anticipated contraction among Latin American countries.
Nevertheless, without the slightest embarrassment, Gaviota presented the upcoming opening of Playa Luxury Varadero, an 85-room adults-only hotel, as one of the main attractions of the 2026–2027 season.
It is not a new establishment, having operated since 2005 under various names, including Cayo Libertad Royal Island, Blau Privilege Cayo Libertad, and Cayo Libertad Club Premium.
As one might expect, the exclusive prices at this resort are beyond the reach of those doctors who sacrifice years of their lives away from their loved ones in hopes of living a little better than everyone else, yet end up enduring practically the same hardships.
It is no coincidence that Cuba lost more than a thousand people registered in Spain’s Electoral Census of Absent Residents during September, all of them registered at the Spanish consulate in Havana, according to information released this week by Spain’s Electoral Census Office.
This decline contrasts with several years of growth in the number of Spanish citizens registered on the island, driven by citizenship applications under the 2022 Democratic Memory Law, known as the “Grandchildren’s Law.”
What has happened is that, after obtaining Spanish citizenship, many beneficiaries moved to Spain or other countries and were no longer listed as residents of Cuba.
Of course, that figure reflects only the number of people who managed to emigrate. The overwhelming majority would also leave if they had the legal and financial means to do so.
For those who do not have that option and work for the state, there is little choice but to continue applying for government missions, even if it means missing their children’s upbringing or their parents’ final years, while knowing they will be exploited economically, physically, and politically.