‘We can’t take it anymore’: How Trump is pushing Cuba to the brink
Amid the ongoing crisis gripping Cuba, a man on the streets of Havana approached me with a quiet urgency. “Let the Americans come, let Trump come, it’s time to get this over with,” he murmured, as though revealing a hidden truth. This sentiment is rare in Cuba — and rarer still when uttered during a period of intense US pressure, reminiscent of Cold War tensions. I glanced around to ensure no one was eavesdropping, and checked if my cameraman, documenting the transportation struggles, was nearby to capture the man’s words. He was a bicycle-taxi operator, and his frustration was palpable.
For over six decades, Cuba has weathered a series of upheavals: failed CIA invasions, nuclear standoffs, and mass departures. Now, Donald Trump has intensified the strain. “Cuba is going to fall soon,” Trump told CNN’s Dana Bash, a declaration that echoes past presidential bravado but carries fresh urgency. His administration’s swift reimposition of the oil embargo has crippled the island’s already fragile economy, with results strikingly similar to the Cold War’s impact, though without the naval blockade.
Trump’s actions are part of a broader strategy. In his second term, he has launched aggressive campaigns to topple leaders in Venezuela and Iran. Cuba, a nation that has withstood decades of US sanctions and internal missteps, now faces the same fate. The flow of oil from Havana’s remaining allies has been severed, leaving hotels built at public expense abandoned or shuttered. Employees have been laid off, and tourists, once a lifeline, have largely disappeared. Without jet fuel, flights can’t return, deepening the island’s isolation.
Blackouts, once brief, now stretch for days. When power flickers on in the dead of night, Cubans rise with weary determination to prepare meals and iron clothes. During a recent 36-hour outage, a group of men cooked a stew over burning tree limbs on a Havana street. “We have returned to the Stone Age,” one remarked, his tone oddly cheerful. Fuel scarcity has forced Cubans to rely on T-Plate vehicles, siphoning state gasoline for the black market. A single tank costs over $300, exceeding the annual earnings of many citizens.
While Trump insists Cuba is eager to negotiate, officials I spoke with dismissed this as a mirage. The island remains defiant, clinging to its slogan: “The homeland or death. We will be victorious!” Yet, for some, the resolve is fading. Exhausted Cubans express hope for change, though the direction remains unclear. When my cameraman reemerges, I ask the taxi driver if he’s willing to share his thoughts for the story. He walks away swiftly, choosing to keep his grievances low, at least for now.
