The recent history of Cuba is often analyzed as a unique case of political crises, revolutions, and failed reconstructions. However, it can also be interpreted from another perspective. Precisely because its ruptures have been so visible, Cuba could become a clear example of a problem that many other societies face, even if they do not always perceive it with the same clarity.

In various parts of the world today, there is a growing sense of dissatisfaction with existing political and social systems. Many countries experience cultural tensions, political polarization, and constant debates over the direction of their institutions. In some places, these processes develop slowly; in others, like Cuba, the ruptures have been more abrupt and evident. Yet, the underlying pattern remains similar.

For more than a century, successive Cuban generations have attempted to rebuild the country from scratch. Each rupture produced new political projects, new constitutions, and new promises to reorganize society. Nevertheless, the cycles of crisis have continued.

This suggests that the problem has not been solely political. It has been a deeper issue: A PROBLEM OF FOUNDATION.

The various attempts at national reconstruction in Cuba relied on ideas typical of their time. At different moments, appeals were made to nationalism, progressivism, socialism, or other ideological currents that promised to reorganize society and correct its injustices. But ideologies change with the intellectual currents of each era. When ideas change, so do the national projects built upon them.

A society that constantly shifts its intellectual foundation ends up entering cycles of permanent reconstruction. In many contemporary debates, the history of the West is often viewed as a model of institutional stability. However, even that historical development was more complex than is sometimes acknowledged. Many modern nations were not built exclusively on biblical principles. Over time, those foundations merged with the ideas of the Enlightenment, which centered human intellectual autonomy as the source of truth and progress.

The Enlightenment introduced a growing confidence in the human capacity to understand and reorganize society through knowledge, reason, and intellectual systems. In itself, the development of human thought produced significant advancements in many areas. However, when these ideas began to function as a cultural foundation, they also transformed how societies understood the human being.

In practice, this blend produced a form of cultural Christianity that progressively drifted away from the original moral framework of the Bible. Although many Western societies continued to use religious language and Christian symbols, the cultural center of gravity shifted toward a reliance on human projects as the primary engine of history.

The result was a civilization that preserved part of its biblical heritage but began to depend increasingly on ideologies, social theories, and political projects as the foundation for organizing society.

This type of system possesses a particular characteristic: it tends to generate its own detractors from within. When a society bases its stability on shifting intellectual currents, new generations inevitably begin to question previous ideas. Each new theory promises to correct the errors of the last, producing continuous cycles of reform, crisis, and reconstruction. The system eventually finds itself forced to reconsider itself constantly without ever establishing a stable foundation.

In this way, many societies enter a permanent process of searching for new solutions without ever resolving the core problem.

Here, we find a vital observation that runs through the history of civilizations: societies do not change through politics first. They change first through anthropology—through the idea a culture holds regarding what a human being is. When a society adopts a specific vision of human nature, that vision eventually reflects in its institutions, its politics, and its social structures.

At this point, we can distinguish between two major traditions that have profoundly marked modern history:

• On one hand, a tradition places the redemption of the human being in knowledge and intellectual projects. According to this view, moral and social progress is achieved primarily through ideas, systems, or programs capable of reorganizing society. From this perspective, social change occurs fundamentally through structural and political transformations.

• On the other hand, the biblical tradition starts from a different anthropology. According to this view, the human being is created in the image of God and possesses an intrinsic dignity that does not depend on political systems or social theories. At the same time, the Bible recognizes that human nature exists within a moral reality that requires truth, responsibility, and internal transformation.

From this perspective, real societal change does not begin in political systems. It begins in the moral formation of the individual. When a culture adopts a mistaken view of human nature, it inevitably builds institutions that reflect that error. For this reason, many political projects that promise to redeem society through systems or ideologies eventually fail over time: they attempt to resolve at an institutional level what is actually a problem of moral foundation.

The biblical tradition proposes a different order: first, the transformation of the human heart; then, the moral life arising from that transformation; and finally, the social structures that emerge from a culture formed by those values. Political institutions, from this viewpoint, are not the starting point of civilization. They are the result of the moral culture that exists within a society.

From this outlook, the Cuban case could represent something more than a national problem. Precisely because its crises have been more visible, Cuba could become a clear example of a question that many other societies face less evidently.

While in other countries the cycles of ideological change develop slowly, in Cuba, the ruptures have exposed more clearly the consequences of building national projects on shifting intellectual foundations. For this reason, the Cuban case could offer a rare opportunity: the possibility of reconsidering the very foundation upon which a society is built. Nations rarely have the chance to rethink their cultural bases from the beginning. When they do, the decisions they make can influence not only their own future but also serve as a reference for other peoples facing similar challenges.

Ultimately, the future of a nation does not depend solely on its political systems or its constitutions. It depends on the moral foundation upon which it decides to build its culture. If that foundation is based on human projects that promise social redemption through shifting ideologies, the cycles of crisis tend to repeat.

But if a society returns to a solid foundation—one that simultaneously recognizes human dignity and moral responsibility—then the institutions arising from that culture can acquire a much deeper stability. In that sense, the Cuban case could show something that many societies have yet to see clearly: that the true starting point for a nation’s future is not found in politics first.

It is found in the truth upon which it decides to build its future.

Author: William Salazar.