“The Bottleneck of Solidarity,” by Iramís Rosique, originally appeared on the weekly Brecha on April 1, 2026. What follows is an English translation of a revised and updated version of the same article.
“What humanitarian aid to Cuba reveals is something we have suspected for three years while witnessing live the genocide in Gaza: there is no lack of sensitivity, nor is there a lack of values allowing us to understand and condemn the horror. What is lacking is strength—and not just the strength of arms, but above all the strength of will to stand in line ‘so that the giant in seven-league boots does not pass,’ as José Martí wrote long ago. We already know that everyone is looking out for themselves and playing the short-term game, and that the weak are weaker and count for less than ever. Yesterday it was Gaza, today it is Lebanon and Cuba, tomorrow it will be anyone.”
—Iramís Rosique
“[…] the trees must line up, so that the giant in seven-league boots does not pass! It is time for reckoning, and for marching in unison, and we must walk in tight formation, like silver in the roots of the Andes.”
José Martí
The Cuban ports of Havana and Mariel today offer a scene that encapsulates the schizophrenia of contemporary geopolitics: cranes unloading thousands of tons of food and medicine under the dim light of dusk, while the urban centers awaiting those supplies sink into the gloom of blackouts lasting more than twenty hours a day. In this harsh spring of 2026, one would be tempted to say that Cuba had never received such kindness and, at the same time, had never found itself so dramatically alone and suffocated. A portion of the international community has shown itself willing to empty its stocks of agricultural surpluses to alleviate the urgent needs of the largest island in the Caribbean, in a gesture of undeniable humanitarian value for which the Cuban people are grateful, but—until the Russian tanker Anatoly Kolodkin arrived at the Matanzas oil terminal on Cuba’s northern coast to unload more than 725,000 barrels of crude oil—no one had dared to cross the red line of the energy blockade imposed by Donald Trump. An old popular saying warns that one can play with the chain, but not with the monkey. Today, in the Caribbean theater of operations, as far as Cuba is concerned, the wisdom of this maxim has been confirmed.
To understand the current situation, it is necessary to look back at the chasm that opened up earlier this year. The abrupt interruption of Venezuelan crude oil supplies, following the kidnapping of President Nicolás Maduro and the still-contested U.S. victory in Caracas, left Cubans in a very precarious situation. For two decades, Venezuela had been the cornerstone of Cuba’s energy security. In the first decade of this century, an agreement was signed under which Venezuela committed to sending oil as payment for a range of services that Cuba would provide to the South American country. At its peak, that flow covered virtually all of the Caribbean nation’s energy needs, thereby ensuring relative stability and some room for economic growth.
However, that support began to erode steadily from the end of the second decade of the century and ultimately collapsed in recent years, as a result of the combination of the structural deterioration of the Venezuelan oil industry under the sanctions regime imposed by the United States and the reorientation of its exports toward more profitable markets. By the end of 2025, Venezuela no longer occupied the central place it had held in the Cuban economy, although its contribution remained significant within a deeply weakened energy system—that of the island.
Given this scenario, it is no surprise that, amid the Trumpist celebration of the “feat” of January 3 and the euphoria of the anti-Cuban lobby in Miami, the Trump administration chose to pressure Cuba precisely when it was at its weakest, for which it drew a red line in the waters of the Caribbean Sea: any ship, shipping company, or State that dared to supply oil to Cuba would face the imposition of steep tariffs, the real estate mogul-turned-president’s favorite weapon. Cuba would no longer be deprived only of Venezuelan oil, which until then had been vital to it, but of any fuel coming from any other country.
The response to this genocidal policy has been the shipment of humanitarian aid to Cuba: medicines, food, clothing, and consumer goods, but no fuel. Washington has made its calculation clear: food keeps people alive, but oil keeps the State functioning. And the stated goal of the energy blockade is to bring the Cuban State to a halt.
Of course, this rationale is nothing more than perverse hypocrisy, because Cuba is not a city, but the largest island in the Caribbean; in this regard, it is easy to forget that Cuba’s territory is larger than that of a large number of European countries, such as Portugal, Austria, Ireland, Switzerland, Denmark, or the Netherlands, to name just half a dozen examples. As soon as food arrives at the ports, it must be distributed throughout the territory via logistics chains that have been the first to suffer the impact of the energy blockade. Within days of the new blockade being imposed, small businesses were forced to close simply because they could not restock their goods due to the disruption of supply chains. Cuba produces some of the oil it needs to generate electricity, but Cuban crude, being too heavy, is of poor quality, and Cuba lacks the capacity to refine it into gasoline or diesel to power freight trucks. At the same time, other services that require this fuel are affected, such as backup power for hospitals, or the electricity generation system, which plays a vital role in stabilizing and supporting the national energy grid. It is no wonder that repeated instances of nationwide blackouts have occurred recently.
It is here that the limits of international goodwill are laid bare in all their harshness. Aid may end up serving as an anesthetic that allows the international community—especially certain governments that purport to represent alternatives or resistance to the international despotism exercised by the United States—to clear their consciences without actually altering the existing status quo imposed by Washington.
Historically, Cuba has relied on its ties with balancing powers to counter U.S. hegemony. Today, that counterweight no longer exists. We know that China is not an oil-producing country, so any assistance it might provide against the energy blockade would have to focus on other types of systemic solutions. So far, we have heard nothing in regard to this matter, and the mere fact that we have reached the current situation is, in itself, revealing. Russia, on the other hand, is indeed an energy giant, as well as a military power. However, over the past three months, the Kremlin has primarily offered moral support and expressed dismay and outrage regarding the escalation of hostility toward Cuba by the United States. As is well known, in the wake of the war with Iran, Washington decided to lift sanctions on Russian oil to prevent the price per barrel from continuing to rise on the international market. Even so, until the arrival of the Anatoly Kolodkin off the Cuban coast, the island remained one of the few exceptions that the U.S. Treasury Department had communicated to Russia regarding the authorization to sell oil.
China has repeatedly stated that it would support Cuba “within its capabilities.” What might China’s capabilities not be? Standing up for Cuba means standing up for dignity, truth, and justice; in other words, standing up against the money, not with it.
Gerry Kellman, a character from the TV series Succession, once said something along the lines of, “You can’t go against the money; you can’t beat the money.” Standing up for Cuba means standing up for dignity, truth, and justice; in other words, standing up against the money, not with it. Perhaps that is the rationale guiding the actions of some of the countries in the BRICS bloc, which once presented itself as the promise of a new multipolar economic order independent of Washington’s dictates, but which today watches Cuba’s agony with passive anticipation or, at best, with gestures of support that fall far short of its well-proven capabilities. Let us not forget China’s repeated statements that it would support Cuba “within its capabilities.” What might China’s capabilities not be? However, the BRICS countries must recognize that any honorable and just solution to the “Cuban problem” requires more than just economic calculations. In the foreseeable future, the disastrous and avoidable consequences for Cuba and the world of such blindness and recklessness toward strategic self-interest will not be assessed in that light alone. Instead, the abandonment of Cuba will show the world that no one should take risks for the sake of alternative alliances or promises of new worlds. When the time comes to face the “masters of this world” head-on, those who take such risks will find themselves alone.
Despite all the criticisms that can be leveled at the short-sighted pragmatism of emerging powers, the bitterest disappointment comes from the Latin American region itself. The case of Mexico illustrates the effectiveness of U.S. tariff blackmail. During 2024 and 2025, the Mexican government, through Petróleos Mexicanos (Pemex) and its subsidiary Gasolinas Bienestar, became a bold lifeline and went on to export more than 2,000 barrels of oil per day to Cuba. That was a gesture of courageous defiance by Mexico toward the United States, one that honored Mexico’s historic diplomatic doctrine. However, in the face of recent threats of exorbitant tariffs that would jeopardize the Mexican economy, President Claudia Sheinbaum has had to admit that “diplomatic channels” are being sought to avoid harming her own country, and oil shipments have been halted. In exchange, Mexico is sending ships with humanitarian aid. The bandage is appreciated—and it is acknowledged that so far the Mexican position has been the most dignified—but the patient is bleeding to death.
On the other hand, we have Brazil, another oil-producing country. If there is one figure who embodies the contradiction between fiery rhetoric and strategic inaction, it is Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva. Just a few weeks ago, at the FAO Regional Conference held in Brasília, President Lula delivered a speech in which he vehemently defended Cuba, drawing applause from the ranks of global progressives: “Cuba is not starving because it doesn’t know how to produce; Cuba is not starving because it doesn’t know how to generate its own energy. Cuba is starving because they don’t want Cuba to have certain things that everyone should be entitled to.” It is an impeccable assessment. And as proof of its solidarity, the Brazilian government has confirmed the shipment of more than 20,800 tons of food and agricultural supplies. It is a monumental donation, and the Cuban people receive it with deep gratitude. No one downplays the meal placed on the table of families who today suffer unspeakable hardships.
However, while Lula raises his voice at the FAO against the blockade, Petrobras—the giant Brazilian State-owned oil company, the largest crude producer in Latin America—has not shipped a single barrel to Cuban refineries. Brazil has the economic, technical, and logistical capacity—as well as sufficient political clout—to supply the quota Cuba needs to avoid collapse, but it will not cross the red line drawn by Washington. Facing the financial sanctions that mobilizing Petrobras would entail is a price that Brazilian progressivism is not willing to pay. At the end of the day, Itamaraty’s anti-imperialist rhetoric stops exactly where commercial interests and fear of the U.S. Treasury Department begin.
The inaction of the countries that could break the oil blockade against Cuba reveals an uncomfortable truth about the world order: U.S. financial and military power continues to guarantee the world’s unipolarity. It will be a long time before we can even glimpse such oppressive unipolarity giving way to a less unjust world. All the discourse that flooded left-wing and international political publications and forums announcing the good news of a multipolar order is being shattered by a U.S. administration that viscerally despises all multilateralism—from the United Nations to NATO itself— and that has not the slightest qualm when it comes to revealing the bitter truth about power relations in the world.
It is imperative to reiterate our gratitude to the peoples and governments that are sending resources to Cuba today. In the midst of an unprecedented crisis, where the island’s industrial production has hit a historic low not seen in four decades, every grain of rice counts. But a modicum of intellectual honesty compels us to also point out what this aid reveals—something we had already suspected for three years while witnessing live the genocide in Gaza: there is no lack of sensitivity, nor is there a lack of values allowing us to understand and condemn the horror. What is lacking is strength—and not just the strength of arms, but above all the strength of will to stand in line “so that the giant in seven-league boots does not pass,” as José Martí wrote long ago. We already know that everyone is looking out for themselves and playing the short-term game, and that today the weak are weaker and count for less than ever. Yesterday it was Gaza, today it is Lebanon and Cuba, tomorrow it could be anyone.
Featured image: View of an empty street in Havana, 1 September 2020. Yamil Lage/AFP/Getty Images.
Translated from the (revised and updated) Spanish original text by Rolando Prats.
