We're going to deal with Iran before we deal with Cuba
In the long arc of American pressure politics, the United States has once again turned economic hardship into a diplomatic instrument — this time aimed at Cuba, whose oil lifelines have been severed since January. President Trump, in mid-March, signaled that a resolution with Havana was within reach, but placed it second in a queue behind Iran, revealing a deliberate sequencing of geopolitical priorities. Cuba's president, once silent about any contact with Washington, has now openly acknowledged dialogue, suggesting that the embargo's weight is being felt not only in fuel lines and darkened streets, but in the calculations of those who govern the island.
- The US oil embargo, in place since January, has cut off the Venezuelan crude Cuba depends on, triggering fuel shortages that ripple through transportation, electricity, and daily commerce for ordinary Cubans.
- Trump has warned that Havana could 'fall soon' without crude supplies, framing the embargo not merely as punishment but as a countdown clock designed to force Cuba to the negotiating table.
- Washington has amplified the pressure further with an executive order threatening tariffs on any nation willing to sell petroleum to Cuba, effectively isolating the island from alternative suppliers.
- Cuba's president Miguel Díaz-Canel, who previously denied any talks with Washington, has now publicly confirmed that dialogue channels are open — a significant shift that signals the embargo is achieving its intended diplomatic effect.
- Trump has made the sequence explicit — Iran first, Cuba second — leaving Havana to calculate whether holding out serves its interests or only deepens the economic wound while Washington's attention remains elsewhere.
On a Sunday in mid-March, President Trump told reporters that a deal with Cuba was achievable in the near term — but only after his administration resolved its more urgent dispute with Iran. The sequence, he made clear, was deliberate: Iran sat at the top of the pile, and Cuba would have to wait its turn.
The statement came against a backdrop of sustained economic pressure. Since January, the United States had imposed an oil embargo on Cuba, severing the Venezuelan crude supplies the island relied upon to keep its economy functioning. An executive order further threatened tariffs on any country willing to sell petroleum to Havana, effectively closing off alternative routes. The message was unmistakable: accept American terms, or face deepening isolation.
For ordinary Cubans, the embargo had already translated into tangible hardship — longer lines, fuel shortages, disruptions to electricity and transportation, and growing uncertainty about the availability of basic goods. Trump had suggested for weeks that Cuba's government could fall under this pressure, offering two paths: an amicable agreement, or something more forceful if Havana refused to negotiate.
What gave the moment its significance was a quiet but telling shift from the Cuban side. President Miguel Díaz-Canel, whose government had previously denied any contact with Washington, openly confirmed that dialogue was underway. The acknowledgment itself was a concession — a sign that the embargo was functioning not just as economic punishment, but as leverage.
As of mid-March, both sides had signaled movement without yet closing the distance between them. Trump had framed a deal as possible but conditional; Díaz-Canel had signaled willingness to talk without revealing what Cuba was prepared to offer. The question hanging over the island was whether the economic pain would prove sufficient to bring Havana to terms Trump could claim as a victory — or whether Cuba would hold out, hoping the embargo's costs might eventually shift the political calculus in Washington.
On a Sunday in mid-March, President Trump told reporters that a deal with Cuba could come soon—but not before the administration settled its dispute with Iran first. He framed it plainly: Cuba wanted an agreement, he believed one was achievable in the near term, and his team was already in talks. But the sequence mattered. "We're going to deal with Iran before we deal with Cuba," he said, making clear which file sat on top of his desk.
The statement arrived against a backdrop of economic pressure that had been building since January. The United States had imposed an oil embargo on Cuba, cutting off Venezuelan crude supplies that the island depended on to keep its economy functioning. Beyond the embargo itself, the White House had issued an executive order threatening tariffs on any country willing to sell petroleum to Havana. The message was unmistakable: comply with American policy, or face economic consequences.
Trump had been signaling for weeks that Cuba's government would not survive the squeeze. He suggested the island's leadership could fall "very soon" under the weight of fuel shortages and economic collapse—unless, implicitly, they came to the negotiating table. It was a familiar Trump formula: maximum pressure, then the offer of a deal. He hinted at two paths forward: an "amicable" resolution, or something more forceful if Havana refused to bend.
What made the moment notable was that Cuba's president, Miguel Díaz-Canel, appeared to be listening. Earlier in the week, he had confirmed that his government was maintaining contact with Washington, seeking to resolve differences through dialogue. This was a shift. Havana had previously denied that such talks were happening, but now the Cuban government was acknowledging them openly. The embargo was working as intended—not just as economic punishment, but as a tool to bring an adversary to the negotiating table.
The oil embargo had created real hardship. Fuel shortages rippled through the Cuban economy, affecting transportation, electricity generation, and basic commerce. For ordinary Cubans, the squeeze meant longer lines, higher prices, and uncertainty about whether essential goods would be available. The government faced a choice: endure the pain indefinitely, or negotiate with Washington on terms Trump would dictate.
Trump's framing of the sequence—Iran first, Cuba second—suggested he saw these as linked moves in a broader recalibration of American foreign policy. Resolve the more urgent crisis in the Middle East, then turn attention to the Western Hemisphere. It was a statement of priorities, but also a signal to Havana that time was not on its side. The longer Cuba waited, the deeper the economic damage would cut.
By mid-March, the diplomatic machinery was in motion on both sides. Trump had made his position clear: a deal was possible, but only if Cuba accepted American terms and only after Washington had settled more pressing business elsewhere. Díaz-Canel had signaled willingness to talk. What remained to be seen was whether the economic pain would be enough to push Cuba toward an agreement that Trump could claim as a victory, or whether Havana would hold out and hope the embargo's political costs in Washington would eventually force a change in course.
Citas Notables
Cuba also wants to reach an agreement, and I believe we'll reach one very soon or do whatever is necessary— President Trump
We maintain contact with the United States to seek solutions through dialogue to resolve differences between both governments— Cuban President Miguel Díaz-Canel
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does Trump keep saying Iran comes first? Doesn't Cuba matter to him?
It's about leverage and sequence. He's using the embargo to make Cuba desperate enough to negotiate, but he's also managing multiple crises. Iran is the bigger strategic problem right now. Cuba will wait.
So the oil embargo is deliberate pressure, not just punishment?
Exactly. It's designed to create economic collapse unless Díaz-Canel agrees to talk. Trump is explicit about it—he's said the government will "fall soon" without crude. That's not a prediction; it's a threat.
But Díaz-Canel just confirmed talks are happening. Doesn't that mean the embargo is already working?
It does. He had to deny talks before because admitting them looked like weakness. Now the pain is real enough that he can't hide it anymore. Acknowledging negotiations is actually a sign the embargo is biting.
What happens if they don't reach a deal?
The embargo stays, the economy keeps deteriorating, and Trump gets to say he tried. But he's also warned about "more forceful" options. That's vague on purpose—it keeps Havana guessing about what comes next.
Is this about restoring relations, or about regime change?
Trump hasn't said explicitly. He's left both doors open. A deal could mean normalized trade, or it could mean conditions that effectively force political change. The ambiguity is the pressure point.