Cuba has been in Washington’s crosshairs for decades. The Iran war is raising the stakes

Yamil Lage/Getty On March 16, Cuba’s national electricity grid collapsed for the third time in four months, plunging 10 million people into more than 29 hours of darkness. Hospitals struggled to keep generators running, water pumps shut down and refuse piled up on streets where collection trucks have sat empty for weeks. The immediate cause is a fuel shortage building since January, when the United States cut off Cuba’s oil supply following the kidnapping of President Nicolás Maduro in Venezuela.

Mexico, which had become Cuba’s largest oil supplier, accounting for an estimated 44% of the island’s crude imports in 2025, halted deliveries under threat of US tariffs. This is economic warfare – and it’s not new. But recent US government rhetoric has intensified the long-running tensions, leaving Cuba’s future up in the air.

‘Weaken the economic life of Cuba’ In 1960, a senior US State Department official wrote that “every possible means should be undertaken promptly to weaken the economic life of Cuba” in order to “bring about hunger, desperation and overthrow of government”. That logic has guided US policy for more than six decades. This includes a full trade embargo in 1962 and the extraterritorial reach of the Helms-Burton Act in 1996. In the 2024 General Assembly debate, Cuba’s foreign minister reported cumulative losses from the trade embargo of US$1.5 trillion (around A$2.1 trillion). The first Trump administration’s reversed Obama-era diplomatic openings. Then, in January 2026, the second administration signed an executive order imposing a fuel blockade. UN human rights experts have condemned it as “a serious violation of international law”. Meanwhile, the war in the Middle East – which has sent Brent crude prices surging past US$110 (A$156) a barrel – is sharpening the political calculus. With the 2026 US midterm elections looming and President Donald Trump’s approval ratings in decline, Cuba is caught in the crosshairs. Why is Trump so obsessed with Venezuela? His new security strategy provides some clues

The rhetoric of regime change On January 28, testifying before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, Secretary of State Marco Rubio disavowed plans to topple the Cuban government but added: “I think we would like to see the regime there change”. By March, the language had escalated sharply. Trump told reporters: “I think I can do anything I want with it. They’re a very weakened nation.” That a sitting president openly claims he can “do anything” with a sovereign state is not merely a breach of diplomatic norms — it’s contrary to the UN Charter, which prohibits the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity of any state. The United States ratified that charter in 1945.

Under Article VI of its own constitution, ratified treaties are the “supreme Law of the Land”. Threatening Cuba therefore violates not only international law, but also US constitutional law. The question is who enforces the law. In a system where checks and balances have been hollowed out, the answer is increasingly: no one. The V-Dem Institute’s 2026 Democracy Report now classifies the United States as an electoral democracy only — no longer a liberal one. Analysts have placed the country “on the cusp of autocracy”. The state that presumes to impose democracy on Cuba is rapidly dismantling its own. Behind the rhetoric, a negotiation track is taking shape. Reports suggest Rubio has opened a back-channel to Raúl Guillermo Rodríguez Castro (known as “Raulito”), the grandson of former President Raúl Castro, while Washington pushes for the current Cuban president’s removal as a precondition for any deal. President Miguel Díaz-Canel responded defiantly, accusing Washington of using economic weakness as “an outrageous pretext to seize” the country. “Any external aggressor will clash with an impregnable resistance”, he warned. Pressure on multiple fronts Washington has pressured governments across the region to terminate medical cooperation agreements with Havana, slashing a crucial revenue source. Cuba’s overseas health brigades – dating back to 1963 – had some 24,000 professionals across 56 countries at their peak. But Cuba is not without allies. Russia has dispatched a tanker carrying 730,000 barrels of crude, expected to arrive in Cuba early April. A Hong Kong-flagged vessel, loaded with Russian diesel off Cyprus, was diverted to Trinidad and Tobago in late March after the US Treasury Department explicitly barred Russian fuel shipments to Cuba. More structurally significant is China’s role. With Beijing’s support, Cuba has connected 49 new solar parks to its grid in 12 months, tripling solar’s share of electricity generation from 5.8% to more than 20%. Cuba also produces roughly 40% of its oil domestically – a significant achievement for a blockaded island. But the shortfall remains devastating. On March 20, the Nuestra América Convoy arrived in Havana. Made up of 650 delegates from 33 countries carrying 20 tonnes of humanitarian aid by air and sea, it was a gesture of international solidarity that underscored just how dire the crisis has become. What will happen next? Firm predictions would be reckless, but three scenarios deserve attention. First, we could see continued strangulation paired with negotiations, culminating in a “deal” Trump can sell domestically. Second, the US could pursue a destabilisation strategy in which Cuba’s government fails under the weight of the blockade and growing unrest. The March 16 blackout already saw protesters attack a Communist Party office in central Cuba. Third, the Trump administration could choose a sudden show of force if an incident provides a pretext – particularly if the Middle East campaign continues to flounder. Rubio, it bears remembering, has always been more neoconservative hawk than MAGA isolationist. Military solutions are not foreign to his political instincts. None of these outcomes is certain. The signals to watch are the pace of negotiations, the trajectory of the Middle East war, and whether Washington’s demands remain maximalist. What is clear is the humanitarian cost is already being borne by ordinary Cubans – and the decisions being made in Washington owe far more to domestic political calculations than to international law.

Juan Zahir Naranjo Cáceres does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.