Would America be better under comunism?

Communism Sounds Good—Until You’ve Lived It: A Cuban Refugee’s Warning to America

I’ll admit it: I get frustrated—really frustrated—when I hear people in America say communism could be good for this country. It’s not just an abstract debate for me. I lived in Cuba for over 20 years. I was born and raised in Havana, came to the U.S. as a refugee at 21, and I can tell you with absolute certainty: communism isn’t just flawed—it’s a disaster. If you’re one of those people who thinks it could work here, who dreams of taxing the rich, redistributing wealth, and building a more “socially conscious” nation, I don’t blame you. It means you’re probably a good person with a big heart. But I’m here to tell you, from firsthand experience, why you’re wrong—and why bringing that system to America would destroy it, just like it destroyed my home.

A Life Under Communism: The Reality Behind the Ideal

Let me take you back to Cuba. My mom was a doctor, my family was rooted in Havana, and I didn’t escape until my 20s. Growing up, I didn’t just hear about communism—I lived it. The narrative you might hear in the U.S., that Cuba has great healthcare and education, sounds nice until you see the truth. Sure, there was a time when Cuba seemed to thrive, but it wasn’t because communism worked. It was because Russia propped us up. From butter to TVs, cars to laundry machines—everything came from the Soviet Union. In return, Cuba produced one thing: sugar. That’s it. We were a one-trick pony, entirely dependent on a foreign lifeline.

Why does that matter? Because a country that relies on one commodity and external handouts can’t grow. There’s no industry, no innovation, no scalability. When the Soviet Union collapsed, so did Cuba’s façade of success. Overnight, we went from propped-up to broken. Fidel Castro had already closed off the island—no outside media, no foreign companies, no connection to the world. You couldn’t even listen to English music or contact family in the U.S. without risking punishment. The government controlled everything, and when the Russian support vanished, we were left with nothing but sugar and a dictator.

People often blame the U.S. embargo for Cuba’s struggles, and yes, the sanctions hurt. But they’re not the root of the problem. The Cuban government’s iron grip—censoring media, banning travel, jailing dissenters—did far more damage. A few years ago, my brother escaped Cuba, but just months before, I saw something unprecedented: Cubans took to the streets, hands raised, asking for peace. Not power, not revolution—just peace. The government’s response? They threw them in prison. No trials, no lawyers—just cages. Some are still there today. That’s communism in action, and it has nothing to do with American sanctions.

The Illusion of Equality: Why Redistribution Fails

Now, let’s talk about America. I hear the argument all the time: “We have so much wealth here—why not tax the rich, take from Elon Musk or Jeff Bezos, and spread it around?” It’s a tempting idea until you think it through. These people didn’t steal their money—they built something. Tesla, Amazon—these are products and services we all use. If you take their wealth and divide it equally, everyone gets a slice, but then what? Prices skyrocket because everyone has the same buying power, and suddenly that “equality” means nothing. Worse, you’ve killed the incentive to create.

In Cuba, everything belonged to the government—or, in theory, to “everyone.” But when something belongs to everyone, it belongs to no one. No one takes ownership. I saw it firsthand: broken chairs in schools, crumbling hospital equipment, rude service at restaurants. Why care when it’s not yours? There’s no pride, no accountability. Contrast that with America, where ownership drives progress. If I own a camera or a business here, I protect it, I improve it—because it’s mine. That’s capitalism’s strength, and communism strips it away.

Think about sports. If I’m terrible at basketball (and trust me, I am), should I get the same trophy as LeBron James? Of course not. Effort, skill, and results matter—it’s human nature. In Cuba, the system erased that. No one bothered to excel because there was no reward. Why work harder if the outcome’s the same?

Power Without Accountability: The Dictator’s Playbook

Then there’s the government. In Cuba, Fidel Castro ruled for over 50 years. How? He rewrote the rules. You see it in Venezuela too—Hugo Chávez, then Nicolás Maduro, bending laws to cling to power. In America, people complain about corruption, corporate influence, and a broken system. Fair enough—there’s truth to that. But I’d take a flawed democracy over a dictator any day. Here, you can change the president every four years. You’ve had a Black president, you’ll have a female one soon—anything’s possible because power shifts. In Cuba, it’s one party, one voice, no change. That’s not just broken—it’s suffocating.

Look at the last few months since Trump took office again in 2025. Love him or hate him, things are shifting—accountability is kicking in. The system’s messy, but it works better than a single-party state where dissent lands you in jail. In Cuba, change might only come through a civil war, and that’s a tragedy I hope never unfolds.

The Privilege of Wanting Communism

Here’s the kicker: the loudest voices for communism in America often come from people who’ve never lived it. If you’re 21, in college, with an iPhone and Wi-Fi, it’s easy to say, “Let’s give everything away.” You didn’t fight for those freedoms—access to media, electricity, transportation. They’re just there. But imagine building something—a company, a career—and having it taken because “equality” demands it. You’d feel differently then.

I saw a video once where a liberal homeowner was asked about welcoming immigrants. They were all for it—until a bus full of people showed up at their door. Suddenly, it was, “No, not my house!” That’s the disconnect. In Cuba, the government didn’t ask—they forced families out, turned homes and businesses into communal property. Imagine that in America. This country would collapse, and all the things we take for granted—freedom, opportunity, even Netflix—would vanish.

A Wake-Up Call From Someone Who’s Been There

Ten years after I arrived in the U.S., I was driving with my brother, fresh from Cuba, through Burbank. We spotted signs on electric poles promoting a communist group. He freaked out—stopped the car, ripped them down. For the first time, I felt real fear that this ideology could take root here. It’s bold now, public even, and that scares me.

Don’t get me wrong—equality of opportunity matters. Everyone should have a shot to succeed. But equal outcomes? That’s a fantasy. If you’re bad at painting, acting, or sports, you shouldn’t win just to “represent.” I’m Hispanic, and I don’t care about more Latinos in movies—I want the best actor, period. Michael B. Jordan crushed it in Creed because he’s great, not because of his skin. Results matter, not quotas.

So here’s my plea: unless you’ve lived in a communist country, don’t pretend it’ll work here. It sounds noble—everyone having the same—but it’s a lie. Cuba taught me that. America’s not perfect, but it’s a hell of a lot better than what I left behind.

Let’s not trade freedom for a broken promise.