Introduction

Often labelled by official accounts as “the revolution in the revolution,”[1] the social changes brought about by the Cuban Revolution (1953-1959) mark a critical juncture in women’s reproductive rights history. Although Cuba formally gained independence from Spain in 1898, the Cuban Revolution reads as a direct response to many years of continuing foreign interference and control. Framing decolonisation as non-domination,[2] the Revolution offers a unique case to examine the gendered dynamics of nationalist struggle. The changes implemented by the patriotic movement that drove the Revolution had far-reaching implications for women’s rights, as nationalist objectives joined with advances in general and reproductive health. By analysing the impact of the Cuban Revolution on women’s reproductive rights and autonomy, we gain deeper insight into the broader dynamics of gendered politics in postcolonial societies. Ultimately, Fidel Castro’s 26th of July Movement (M-26-7) prioritised anti-imperial liberation over women’s emancipation, essentially constructing women’s reproductive bodies as national assets.[3]

Foreign Domination and Resistance in Cuba

Decolonisation as non-domination can be understood as the anticolonial (re)making of a global world order, free from colonial hierarchies and both direct and indirect economic or political control.[4] This perspective emphasises dismantling formal colonial rule as well as subtler forms of dominance that persist through economic, political, and cultural ties.

According to some Cubans,[5] Cuba’s decolonisation journey began with forms of anticolonial resistance throughout the period of Spanish colonisation between 1511 and 1898. The subsequent United States (U.S.) victory in the Spanish-American War led to the United States’ occupation of Cuba from 1898 to 1902. During the occupation, the U.S. imposed the Platt Amendment unilaterally, creating the legal foundation for its repeated interventions in Cuban affairs in the years to follow.[6] The U.S.’s geopolitically motivated support for the authoritarian coup by Batista in 1952 exemplifies its neocolonial dominance.[7]  

The M-26-7 movement originated in Havana in 1952-1953 in response to the establishment of the dictatorial regime. In this movement, students and workers mobilised around Fidel Castro and other revolutionaries such as Vilma Espín and Celia Sánchez (see Figure 1). The Cuban Revolution began after their initial failed attack on the Moncada Barracks on July 26, 1953. This attack was led by revolutionary fighters, including Haydée Santamaria.[8] The movement was named after this attack.[9]

After the attack, Fidel outlined his ideas in his “History Will Absolve Me” speech during his trial. Addressing Cuba’s dire socio-economic conditions, he proposed five revolutionary laws to restore democratic governance, grant farmers land ownership, let sugar and industrial workers share in production profits, and confiscate the assets of corrupt officials. In this speech, Castro reduces women to “those entrusted with the sacred task of teaching our youth” (alongside young men).[10]

In 1955, Fidel and other revolutionaries were granted amnesty. They went into exile in Mexico, where they met Che Guevara and returned together to Cuba on board the Granma in November 1956. Losing many fighters upon arrival, the revolutionaries regrouped in the Sierra Maestra mountains and waged a guerrilla war against the Batista forces in 1957 and 1958.[11] After the decisive Santa Clara battle in December 1958,[12] Batista fled Cuba on January 1, 1959, marking the end of his regime and the beginning of post-revolutionary Cuba. 

The Revolution initiated substantial societal changes as a response to many years of foreign domination. Although these changes were aimed at national autonomy, they significantly affected women’s reproductive rights. As such, Cuba’s decolonisation journey and the Cuban Revolution provide essential context for understanding gendered critiques of nationalism. 

Gendered Critiques of Nationalism

In their pursuit of national autonomy and their construction of national identity, nationalist projects often perpetuate patriarchal and oppressive structures through control mechanisms targeting women’s bodies and sexualities. 

A prominent theme in this critique is the regulation of sexual norms to consolidate state power and define national identity. Postcolonial states often criminalise non-heteronormative bodies and reinforce heterosexual norms,[13] thereby using sexual regulation as a tool for national consolidation. This regulation serves to define the boundaries of acceptable and productive national identities,[14] marginalising those who do not conform to monogamous, heteronormative standards. Such criminalisation not only enforces patriarchal norms but also consolidates state power over citizens’ bodies and identities.

Furthermore, the relationship between nationalism and sexism[15] can explain why nationalist ideologies construct and naturalise gender roles. By relying on the symbolic power of the patriarchal family model, nationalism utilises the intimate lives of citizens to project the ideal social order the nation seeks to uphold. This enables the state to maintain social cohesion and stability. Gender roles serve as a foundational framework for the state’s legal, economic, educational, and medical systems, establishing a sophisticated linkage between nationalist and sexist ideologies.

Moreover, with women as the materialised gatekeepers of future generations, liberation movements often emphasise women’s reproductive roles. Similar to the colonial era, when reproductive policies were used to promote norms of civilisation, postcolonial states intervene in women’s reproductive lives under the guise of protecting women’s health.[16] In both contexts, women’s fertility is intricately connected to the state’s raison d’être. Consequently, newly established states in postcolonial contexts often assume control over women’s fertility to resist colonial influence and assert national sovereignty. While framed as being in women’s best interest, these measures serve to control women’s bodies and construct them as national assets, prioritising anti-imperial struggles over gender emancipation.

As a result, government policies that interfere with reproductive choices are often deeply tied to nationalist agendas, using women’s reproductive capacities[17] to build the new nation. [18] Consequently, pursuing women’s rights within nationalist frameworks remains challenging, as nationalist objectives tend to undermine gender emancipation, resulting in limited agency for women within nationalist struggles. This dynamic is evident in the Cuban case, where the Revolution’s advances in women’s reproductive rights were accompanied by reinforced patriarchal control, highlighting the complex relationship between nationalism and gender politics in post-revolutionary Cuba.

Postrevolutionary Cuba’s Reproductive Politics

The Cuban Revolution advanced women’s reproductive rights through a series of reforms and policies across different periods in the post-revolutionary decade, while these policies simultaneously reinforced patriarchal control over women’s reproductive lives. 

In the initial years after the Revolution (1959-1964), the government aimed to improve maternal health by replacing traditional midwives with maternity homes and increasing hospital births, particularly in rural areas like the Oriente province, home to a large Afro-Cuban population.[19] The creation of the Rural Medical Service and maternity homes were part of the revolutionary government’s broader public health reforms meant to provide universal healthcare. However, abortions remained illegal, and access to contraceptives was still very limited. These policies reflect the government’s ideological opposition to birth control methods, which Fidel Castro viewed as a capitalist tool.[20]

During the mid to late 1960s, there was a gradual shift in official perspectives on family planning. By 1965, the Ministry of Public Health (MINSAP) began to provide some medical options for controlling fertility, such as allowing a more flexible interpretation of the anti-abortion provision enshrined in the 1936 Social Defense Code and introducing a simple intrauterine device (IUD), the so-called Zipper Ring (see Figure 2).[21]

Still, access to abortion and contraceptives remained limited, and conversations about family planning had to be initiated by women. Moreover, medical professionals in revolutionary Cuba held significant power over women’s reproductive lives through the centralisation of medical authority, control over abortion access, and regulation of contraceptive use. Physicians enforced state policies, thereby often prioritising community health over individual autonomy, which disproportionately affected poor and Afro-Cuban women. Traditional midwives and non-biomedical practices were quickly marginalised, further consolidating physicians’ control over women’s reproductive health.[22] This medical paternalism limited women’s autonomy and reinforced state control. However, women negotiated their agency within this structure, as evidenced by the Federation of Cuban Women (FMC) helping women gain access to the IUD device by making them by hand at home from fishing line.[23]

The government’s resistance against fertility regulation lasted until 1971, when Cuba’s sugar harvest production declined sharply.[24] Cuba became economically much more dependent on the Soviet Union, and along with this dependency, a shift in official stances toward birth control methods occurred to align Cuba’s policies with Soviet practices. Nonetheless, with the 1979 legalisation of abortion and the ratification of the Convention on the Elimination of all forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), reproductive methods became more accessible in Cuba. However, due to the prolonged medicalisation of reproductive healthcare with physicians as gatekeepers of reproductive decisions,[25] state control remained a decisive factor in women’s reproductive lives. 

Cuba’s Patriarchal State Control 

Throughout the post-revolutionary period, the government’s efforts to improve maternal health and reduce mortality rates were undoubtedly operating within a patriarchal framework where state and medical authorities dictated reproductive practices. According to some scholars, the revolutionary government engaged in the first decade after the Revolution in a social engineering project to normalise the New Family, “led by a male head of household who worked outside the home in a state-approved job and resided with his legal wife who deferred to the state control over the regulation of her production and any (paid or unpaid) labour outside the home.”[26] 

In this perspective, a gendered division of labour was promoted through targeted campaigns to sustain economic production in the new socialist state. More critique is delivered by LGBTQIAA+ individuals who were suppressed and treated as counterrevolutionary by the Cuban government between 1965 and 1970, with many policies restricting their freedom and placing them in a precarious position prone to discrimination.[27] Other later accounts highlight how the Cuban government’s policing of jineterismo (sex work) during the Special Period of economic crisis after the 1980s was another justification for its excessive policing of women’s bodies.[28]

These examples evidence how the revolutionary Cuban government’s policies consistently reinforced patriarchal and heteronormative structures, using reproductive control and gender norms as tools to shape and maintain its vision of a socialist society.

Conclusion

The Cuban Revolution’s impact on women’s reproductive rights highlights the complex relationship between nationalist movements and gender emancipation. While the Revolution gradually advanced women’s access to reproductive healthcare, it also reinforced patriarchal control through physicians’ increased decision-making authority. This duality reflects broader postcolonial and nationalist trends, where women’s bodies are often instrumentalised to consolidate national identity and (re)establish sovereignty. Despite these constraints, women sometimes navigated and resisted, notably through the efforts of the FMC, showing resilience within the state-controlled system. Ultimately, the Cuban case illustrates how nationalist policies can simultaneously promote and limit women’s reproductive rights. The Cuban Revolution overturned imperial forms of domination while maintaining gendered ones, confirming a hierarchy of emancipatory struggles. 

Footnotes