In recent times, the United States has intensified its legal maneuvers against figures like Nicholas Maduro and Raúl Castro, bringing to light a troubling approach to international law. The U.S. seems to be justifying actions that resemble extrajudicial seizures by invoking their own definitions of terrorism. Below, we delve into how this strategy is now heavily reliant on outdated property claims from the Batista era.
By Natasha Bannan, a human rights attorney based in Havana and New York. She is also a co-chair and co-founder of the Alliance for Cuba Engagement and Respect. Originally published at Common Dreams
Today, the streets of Havana are largely devoid of cars, replaced by a vibrant flow of pedestrians, cyclists, and electric vehicles. However, the city is plagued by significant challenges, including mountains of trash due to the fuel shortages affecting garbage collection. Conversations among residents frequently revolve around the length of their electricity outages, with sympathy exchanged over other essential shortages: water, gas, food, and medicine. Many share tales of missed medical appointments and the family members they haven’t seen in ages. Yet, despite the hardship, there is a resilient hope that better days lie ahead—simply because they must.
This past week, the U.S. Department of Justice issued an indictment against Raúl Castro, the 94-year-old former head of state, who has largely retreated from public life. Furthermore, the Supreme Court has allowed Cuban-American firms to pursue legal action against individuals benefiting from properties lost nearly seven decades ago. Secretary of State Marco Rubio continues to display escalating frustrations with Cuba’s unwillingness to comply with U.S. demands, while Trump’s erratic stance indicates a lack of coherent policy regarding Cuba—one that often seems more self-serving.
The indictment of Castro mirrors strategies previously employed in Venezuela, where the Trump administration indicted Maduro, setting a legal groundwork for a potential military intervention. This was branded as an “emergency,” circumventing the necessity for Congressional approval typically required for acts of war. The administration’s maneuvers included orchestrating a coup involving international kidnappings and blatant violations of international law and the U.N. Charter, sending a stark message to leaders who oppose U.S. interests. Such legal actions are often mere façades for shifting political agendas—initially claiming state support for crime as a reason for extrajudicial violence. Once subdued, proponents of these claims often shift narratives, leaving behind the injustices they once invoked.
In the case of Cuba, the indictment against Castro clearly stems from the political pressures that shaped it. As the island nation fails to meet the rapid changes demanded by Washington, the administration has ramped up its threats, military readiness, and legal provocations, albeit often symbolic.
Rubio’s Escalation of Threats as Campaign Messaging
For decades, Marco Rubio has tirelessly sought to transform Cuba’s political and economic landscape from Miami and Washington—a desire that has remained unfulfilled despite the Cuban-American community’s long efforts. This distant control has propelled Rubio’s political ascent and culminated in a campaign to convince the American public that Cuba poses a national security risk, even while declaring to Cubans that their government cannot protect them. This contradictory narrative, deeply rooted in U.S. policy toward Cuba, is particularly hazardous now, as Rubio’s blend of fury and ambition fuels destructive ambitions echoed by Trump.
This misalignment runs through nearly all aspects of Cuba policy. Just recently, Rubio made an Orwellian statement regarding the ICE arrest of Adys Lastres Morera, sister to the head of GAESA, a significant economic entity in Cuba. While it is true that some members associated with repressive regimes enjoy privileges in the U.S., the same country has consistently provided refuge for those involved in violence and dictatorship, notably including Latin American leaders who have aligned with U.S. interests.
The path to genuine international cooperation relies not merely on demanding adherence to international law and human rights, but also on bolstering countries’ capacities to engage in meaningful dialogue. The Trump-Rubio administration has decidedly eschewed genuine diplomacy, opting instead to identify supposed “opposition” figures within Cuba, as evidenced by earlier engagements in Venezuela. Genuine U.S. diplomacy once fostered a flourishing private sector and cultural exchanges with Cuba, enriching the experience for over a million U.S. visitors who found a vibrant partner in Cuba.
Although Trump and Rubio may articulate similar goals, their deeper motives differ significantly. Their focus has never centered on promoting genuine economic opportunities for Cubans. Instead, their ambition is to facilitate economic gains for Cuban-Americans eager to gain control over a land many have never set foot in. While Florida’s role in U.S.-Cuba relations is diminishing, Rubio’s outreach to the Cuban population in recent videos—along with his ongoing rhetoric of threats—clearly aims to galvanize his political base, even when such divisive measures sow fear among millions in Cuba.
Inside Cuba
Currently, Cubans are caught in a duality as they navigate years of existing under the looming threat of U.S. military aggression and the stark realities of economic warfare. Fatigue and anxiety grip the populace as they find their reservoir of hope dwindling. A phrase often shared here is that the last thing to disappear is hope—the only thing remaining until the very end. For many, that moment is closing in.
Daily questions abound: Should I evacuate my children to a shelter? Is bombing imminent in Havana? Where might be safe? Why don’t American citizens oppose their government’s actions?
Cubans have mastered the art of survival, continuing to manage their daily lives amid ongoing geopolitical tensions. As the U.S. Southern Command dispatches the aircraft carrier Nimitz to the Caribbean, the rhythm of daily life persists, just as it has for decades. Most people around me are sourcing transportation alternatives—some opting for electric tricycles for work or school runs. Gasoline-powered cars have become little more than decorative fixtures.
With the constant threat of military intervention combined with a four-month-long oil blockade, even the basic act of sleeping has become a luxury. Numerous families are forced to cook or do laundry at 3:00 a.m., seizing the windows of electricity that sometimes last just an hour or two. One friend finds solace in sleeping on the floor with her child near the door, where the cool air can be felt during the hot, humid nights. Days can stretch into an agonizing lack of water, as electricity shortages hinder water distribution. A dear friend of mine endured a staggering 35 days without water, reliant on friends to help her bathe and clean. Cooking and hygiene become near impossible amid these surging shortages.
As threats of U.S. military aggression loom large, children play with whatever they can find—sticks and deflated balls—while families seek out ways to secure food and transportation. Despite all of this, the deeply embedded cultural and spiritual traditions continue to offer solace and strength to many Cubans, an enduring testament to their resilience. War has a face here, one that sees millions of individuals who seek nothing more than to live in peace in their native land, however flawed it may be.
