The blockade and strike against Venezuela aim to topple the communist government in Cuba as well
The new U.S. naval blockade of Venezuela is not only an atack against Caracas, but an attempt to break and further weaken energy-starved Cuba by cutting off its oil supply.
The U.S. Navy’s strike on a Venezuelan tanker in the Caribbean is not an isolated incident, but an expected continuation of a long-standing strategy by which Washington is trying to bring down two “disobedient” countries at once—Venezuela and Cuba—precisely at a moment when both are going through deep economic and social crises. The seizure of a ship that was carrying oil to China, and had previously unloaded tens of thousands of barrels intended for Cuba, perfectly illustrates how the energy umbilical cord between Caracas and Havana is being cut on the high seas, under rhetoric about sanctions and the fight against terrorism, while the real goal is a political and geopolitical reckoning with socialist projects in Latin America.
Both Cuba and Venezuela have resisted U.S. offensives for decades, and Cuba in particular, having remained a thorn in the side of every administration in Washington since 1959. From Kennedy and the failed Bay of Pigs invasion, through a series of assassination attempts, sabotage, economic embargo, and diplomatic isolation, to persistent pressure after the Cold War, every administration has tried in its own way to crush the Cuban Revolution and open the island to private capital and a political return to the U.S. orbit. Cuba survived the collapse of the USSR, the shortages of the 1990s, natural disasters, and changes in regional politics, which in the eyes of many around the world gives it a symbolic status as a bastion of resistance.
With the arrival of Chávez’s revolution in Venezuela, that story expanded across the continent, as Caracas became not only a political but also a material ally of Havana, especially through deliveries of subsidized oil in exchange for Cuban doctors, teachers, and security advisers. In Washington’s view, this created a “dangerous axis” of socialist resistance—an axis that shows it is possible to build alternatives to the neoliberal order. That is why pressure on Venezuela was never only about Venezuela; it has also been a proxy war against Cuba, something Trump understands very well. If Caracas is broken, if Venezuela’s oil industry is strangled and the flow of energy to Cuba is cut, then the Cuban economy further collapses, increasing the hope among U.S. strategists that one day the Cuban state itself will collapse.
Trump’s calculation is cold and cynical, but politically logical within the American system. A hard line toward socialist governments in Latin America earns him points with domestic conservatives, with parts of the Latin American diaspora—especially Cuban and Venezuelan émigrés in Florida—and more broadly with the right wing that dreams of the final defeat of the left in the Western Hemisphere. The seizure of tankers, military presence in the Caribbean, open threats to Venezuela, and tightened sanctions on Cuba give him an opportunity to show decisiveness, demonstrate strength, and, in an atmosphere of a manufactured permanent external threat, consolidate his electoral base. In domestic political marketing, this is sold as a fight against dictatorships and socialism, although behind it usually lie the interests of energy companies, the military-industrial complex, and the geostrategic desire to cement Latin America as America’s backyard.
The mechanism through which Trump is trying to break this axis of resistance relies heavily on the economy and on denying access to resources. Venezuela has for years been under the burden of heavy sanctions: its financial system is blocked, the state oil company demonized, and any attempt at trade outside frameworks blessed by Washington is declared smuggling or terrorism. Now this is being supplemented by an open naval blockade, ship seizures, and intimidation of shipping companies and insurers, making it harder for Venezuela to sell oil and threatening a complete collapse of state revenues. The consequences spill into Cuban homes in the form of even worse power cuts, public transport disruptions, lack of fuel for agriculture, and further price increases, placing additional pressure on an already exhausted population.
Cuba, in such circumstances, is trying to save itself through every possible maneuver. The government is introducing partial dollarization, allowing greater circulation of foreign currencies, opening space for small and medium private enterprises, seeking investment from China and Europe, trying to rebuild energy infrastructure and accelerate the development of renewable sources—but all of this is happening on the foundations of an economy that has been under embargo for decades and is now suffering another external shock. At the same time, Venezuela is trying to circumvent the blockade through networks of tankers with transponders turned off, trade via third countries, and deals with China, but Venezuela itself is suffering from crisis, inflation, declining production, and emigration, which reduces its capacity to help Cuba. The two countries now lean on each other while being pushed from the other side by the heavy hand of empire. They once had additional allies in Latin America—Ecuador under Rafael Correa, Bolivia under Evo Morales—but all those countries have already “fallen.”
If we look at concrete numbers, it becomes clear how literally dependent Cuba is on Venezuelan oil. In 2023, Venezuela was sending the island about 55,000 barrels per day, which was a key support for fuel-oil power plants and for overall transportation. Under pressure from sanctions and its own production problems, Caracas had to cut deliveries, so in 2024 the average was halved, and in 2025 it fell further to around 27,000 barrels per day. In other words, in just a few years Havana has lost more than half of what it was receiving from Venezuela as an energy lifeline.
The broader import context is even more dramatic. Total Cuban imports of oil and derivatives this year have fallen by more than a third, to around 45,000 barrels per day, which is insufficient for the existing needs of the economy and population. Deliveries from Mexico, another important partner, have dropped to only about 5,000 barrels per day. Venezuela remains the main pillar, with those roughly 27,000 barrels.
Economic dependence is easily translated into political terms. If tomorrow, for any reason, the flow of Venezuelan oil is cut, Cuba has no ready replacement supplier that could quickly step in with twenty or thirty thousand barrels per day, nor does it have the foreign currency to buy such quantities on the open market under the threat of U.S. sanctions. This means that Washington, by striking Venezuelan tankers and threatening new seizures, is strangling two countries at once.
The question is who can help them, and how. China is a natural candidate, as it has invested for years in Venezuelan oil and sees Caracas as an important partner in its global strategy, and it has traditionally correct relations with Cuba. But China plays its own subtle game, weighing every move through the prism of relations with the United States and avoiding open confrontation, so its assistance will likely remain economic and diplomatic—through oil purchases, favorable loans, and support in international organizations—almost certainly not through sending warships to the Caribbean. Russia also declaratively sides with Venezuela and Cuba, occasionally sending an oil shipment or a military delegation, using the situation to show it still has something to say in the Western Hemisphere, but it too is burdened by its own war and sanctions and can hardly play the role of a savior.
In Latin America there are governments that want to see an end to the blockade and sanctions, from Mexico to Brazil and other progressive or at least sovereigntist regimes, but most are not ready to enter into open confrontation with Washington. Their support manifests in political statements, humanitarian aid, votes at the United Nations, and sometimes discreet economic arrangements, but this is not enough to neutralize the enormous power of the American financial and military apparatus. That is why solidarity from below is becoming increasingly important—networks of unions, social movements, international brigades that send medical supplies, food, or simply break the media blockade and remind the world that behind the word “sanctions” lies very concrete suffering of ordinary people.
What can be expected after the new blockade is hard to predict, but the logic of escalation suggests that ship seizures, new penalties, and threats will likely increase, and the possibility of an open attack on Venezuela—whether through air strikes or infrastructure sabotage—cannot be completely ruled out, although such a move would carry enormous risks even for Washington. More likely is the continuation of a hybrid war combining economic strangulation, political destabilization, media demonization, and selective military actions that remain below the threshold of full-scale war but are painful enough to exhaust society.
In this situation, solidarity with Venezuela and Cuba is not abstract moralizing but a concrete political stance against a policy that uses blockades of food, medicine, and energy as weapons. Both countries have the right to self-determination, to their own political choices, and to resolve their internal problems without a fleet at their doorstep. They can defend themselves only through a combination of internal cohesion, reforms that preserve social achievements while opening space for greater popular participation, and international alliances that are not merely ceremonial but a real network of mutual support. Will China and other global actors muster enough courage to make that support more concrete? Will voices against imperial adventurism grow stronger in the United States, and will the peoples of Latin America manage to defend their last socialist bastions? These questions remain open, but they are also a test for all of us who believe that the world does not have to be subordinated to the will of a single power and its interests.