Cuba scored a major propaganda victory last February when six-year-old shipwreck survivor Elian Gonzalez came home after a lengthy custody battle that pitted the influential Miami-Cuban lobby against the government of Fidel Castro. On the day of his return, the mood in Havana was euphoric. Far beyond the joy at seeing a disoriented boy reunited with his father it was seen as a vindication of 40 years of socialism.
Likewise, the gold medals won at the Olympics in Australia, the Buena Vista music phenomenon or anything successful with a link to the island is held up as a triumph of the socialist system.
One of the enduring mysteries of the Cuban regime is the lack of an organised opposition force. If so many people are unhappy and repressed, as is generally acknowledged, how come a more determined opposition movement hasn't emerged?
The answer lies in the provision of social welfare. Unlike any other Latin-American or Caribbean nation, Cuba has a robust, if deteriorating, health and education system, while national food distribution insures that no one goes hungry, even if every last grain of rice is counted and every last dollar scrounged from relatives abroad.
While active dissidence is punished by harassment, humiliation and imprisonment, the real business of repression is carried out in a discreet manner by Neighbourhood Defence Committees (CDRs), first set up to co-ordinate national health crusades in the 1960s. Located on every street corner, the CDRs act as an early-warning mechanism against citizen-organising efforts.
The origin of state paranoia lies in aggressive US hostility, as invasion, economic embargo and US-approved bombing forced Castro to turn the island into an armed fortress. The revolution survived but Cuba's vital energy was sucked dry, with gay men sent to re-education camps and John Lennon considered a counterrevolutionary.
The situation has been relaxed over the years but nowadays the greatest ally of the island's dissidents has been provided by Castro himself in the form of the influx of a million tourists each year, opening the island to a multitude of outside opinions.
The most novel form of dissidence to emerge inside the island this year has been the independent library service run by Cuba's Democratic Solidarity Party out of a dozen family apartments. With no opposition press and an Internet service controlled by Cuban authorities, the flow of information is vital in creating awareness and change.
The best-known dissidents, such as Elizardo Sanchez and Vladimiro Roca, remain cut off from the broad mass of people, discredited by rumours of dollar gifts from Miami-based exiles.
In some Latin-American countries, dissident gains are measured by concessions such as liberated territory or the offer of a cabinet post, but in Cuba the right to an international phone call or a foreign visa were considered as huge advances this year.
The most relevant question asked by Cubans about their future concerns the health of Dr Castro, as the study of his ageing body has become a national pastime. But since Fidel has relatives who lived to be 100 no one is holding their breath.
Has he prepared a successor? The answer is yes, but he is busy running another country - Venezuela.
President Hugo Chavez, an army paratrooper turned democratic president, is heir apparent to Castro, spitting fire at the US and talking up the revolution. Last month, the Cuban leader spent four days in Caracas with Mr Chavez, singing ballads and playing baseball together and showing off social projects aimed at the poor.
International lobbying efforts have shifted from Washington DC to Latin America, where new leaders such as Mexico's President Vicente Fox are seen as amenable to the dissident demand for democratic change. Mr Fox disappointed Cuban exiles on his first day in office, announcing plans to visit Cuba early next year.
If democratic elections were to be held tomorrow, Dr Castro would be tossed aside, as well-funded opponents promised an end to the trade embargo, freedom of travel and a return to private enterprise. However, if he ran for office in any other Caribbean nation, pledging free housing, health and education, he would storm into office, somewhat like his protege in Venezuela.
This is the great irony of the Cuban revolution - it's more popular outside Cuba than among the people on the island.
Cuba's socialist regime will limp along for another few years, but for every year that democratic dialogue is denied, greater is the risk that, when Castro passes on, future generations will forget the positive side of this unique experiment in social destiny.