New System in Cuba Sparks Criticism: "Opening a Dollar Account is Saying Goodbye to Your Money"

The announcement of a new state-run system to manage, control, and allocate foreign currency within Cuba has triggered a wave of skepticism, frustration, and mockery among the public.

This policy, which legalizes internal transactions in dollars and sets the stage for a partial dollarization of the economy, was introduced by the government as a "temporary" measure to organize financial operations. However, for many Cubans, it represents another abrupt shift in a model marked by improvisation, restrictions, and distrust towards the very State that controls the banking systems.

Once Decree-Law 113/2025 and its accompanying resolutions were made public, social media was flooded with a mix of sarcasm, skepticism, and warnings.

On the Facebook page of CiberCuba, an individual's comment captured the general sentiment and went viral: "Opening a dollar account is saying goodbye to your money," echoing past issues with former CUCs and the current difficulties many face withdrawing their CUP funds from banks.

Reactions ranged from ridicule to fear. One person joked, "If I pay with a $100 bill for a $23.75 purchase, in what currency will I get my change?" Another replied, suggesting that keeping money "under the mattress is safer" than trusting state banks with this new experiment.

Amidst the bitter humor and anger, many recalled what they see as a historical pattern: allowing the dollar, then penalizing it, needing it again, reauthorizing it, and prohibiting it once the State's coffers are full.

"They introduce it, remove it, bring it back… and so on," wrote one user, while another warned, "Once the bank coffers are filled, they'll ban its circulation again."

The mistrust of the banking system was a recurring theme. "You'd have to be crazy to open a dollar account in the bank," remarked one reader, noting that even CUP withdrawals are not freely available according to people's needs.

There was widespread suspicion that the government aims to identify and potentially seize the dollars entering the system: "This is to let the money in and then implement measures to keep or confiscate it... as they always do," commented another user.

Among the harshest critiques was the accusation of double standards: "And in Cuba, they pay in dollars... what a sham. They do everything for their convenience, but where does that leave the people?" Others highlighted the contradiction between the anti-imperialist rhetoric and the clear dependence on the greenback: "The imperial money... they sure love it."

Even on Cubadebate, a platform aligned with the official narrative, doubts quickly arose. "Will they sell the dollar legally? What dollar are they going to control? Nobody can make decisions about money they don't have," questioned a reader, pointing to the lack of a real exchange market. More skeptical voices warned that as long as improvisation persists, "the more they implement, the more chaos they create."

Some reminisced about the past to illustrate the decline: "When I was a child, a dollar and a Cuban peso were worth the same," wrote one woman. Another, even older, added: "With the Cuban peso, you could go to the United States. That shows how productive the country used to be."

Amid frustration and dark humor, the underlying sentiment remains: a weary populace facing economic decisions that seem recycled without addressing core issues. "Nothing they do will work if there is no production, if there are no factories, no electricity, no infrastructure. They might as well authorize bottle caps as currency, and the country will remain the same," reflected a user.

Others were more direct: "Any benefit for the people?" asked a reader. The question went unanswered.

For many Cubans, the new system is merely the formalization of an existing inequality, with a fragmented economy where only those with access to dollars can stay somewhat connected to the real market, while the rest are stuck with an ever-devaluing CUP.

Authorities maintain that this is a temporary measure aimed at "protecting national interests." However, for Cubans both on the island and abroad, the prevailing feeling is that they are witnessing the beginning of another chapter in Cuba's long economic saga, where the rules change, but the hardships remain.