Throughout history, both military and political realms have posed a critical question when facing extreme decisions: does resisting change the outcome of a conflict, or does it merely amplify human suffering?
When refusal to negotiate fails to shift the strategic outcome but increases civilian hardship, what initially seems heroic can, over time, transform into tragic obstinacy. This historical pattern offers valuable insight into Cuba's current predicament following the U.S. government's tightening of sanctions, particularly the oil and fuel blockade implemented at the end of January.
The severe reduction in energy supply directly affects hospitals, transportation, food production, and essential services. This raises a crucial question, not of ideology but of strategy and humanity: does prolonging confrontation truly alter the conflict's structural outcome, or does it simply hasten internal collapse?
Lessons from History
History provides clear examples of both paths. In 1871, Paris endured a prolonged Prussian siege, leading to dire hunger and a collapse in sanitation. Once it was clear that resistance wouldn't break the siege or change the military outcome, the National Defense Government accepted an armistice. While not a glorious decision, it prevented further deterioration.
Similarly, in 1945, Japan faced a devastating naval blockade, cities devastated by bombings, and the looming threat of invasion. Emperor Hirohito chose to surrender, describing the need to "endure the unendurable" to preserve the nation. This decision acknowledged defeat but spared millions of additional lives in a strategically lost war.
Conversely, Jerusalem in 70 A.D. resisted until complete destruction. The refusal to capitulate didn't change the power dynamics against the Roman Empire, resulting in the city's devastation and irreversible human tragedy. Absolute resistance failed to save the cause but maximized human cost.
Cuba's Current Predicament
Cuba isn't under conventional military siege, yet the accumulated external pressures—financial sanctions, trade restrictions, and now severe energy supply limitations—create a scenario of high internal vulnerability. With scarce fuel, productive sectors halt, hospitals suffer, and public transport deteriorates, affecting the population most.
Yet, another critical factor cannot be overlooked: the nature and results of the political project governing the island since 1959. After 67 years in power, the model born from the so-called "Cuban revolution" has failed to build a sustainable economy or a pluralistic, functional institutional system.
Extreme centralization, suppression of political freedoms, state and military control over the economy, and resource capture by a power-linked elite have shaped a closed state. The persistent conflict with the U.S. can't be seen as a temporarily besieged successful project.
Rethinking Resistance
The Cuban economy has shown signs of structural exhaustion for decades: low productivity, chronic dependence on external subsidies, infrastructure decay, mass emigration, and a dual currency system causing significant distortions. Even before the recent escalation in energy sanctions, the country faced recurring blackouts, inflation, and shortages.
In this context, the narrative of resistance takes on a different tone. It's not about defending a prosperous or just model against external aggression, but about maintaining a system that, after over six decades of political monopoly, hasn't delivered material prosperity or institutional openness.
When a political project has concentrated power for 67 years, it can't blame external factors alone for the country's current state. The official response has been to invoke the rhetoric of a besieged plaza: "no one surrenders here," heroic resistance, and sacrifice as revolutionary virtue. The issue isn't national pride, but the portrayal of political obstinacy as the only moral option, obscuring the debate on deep reforms.
If resistance doesn't change Washington's stance—which has conditioned any significant relief on structural political and economic changes—an inevitable question arises: What exactly does persistence without adjustment achieve?
Internally, the cost is tangible. With limited energy, the already weakened economy contracts further. Scarcity and inequality between those accessing foreign currency and those solely relying on the state system worsen. Migration increases. Public services operate at their limit.
When a model's continuity doesn't alter the external outcome but intensifies internal social costs, history urges reconsideration of strategy. Negotiating, reforming, or making structural changes doesn't necessarily mean capitulation; it can be a responsible act under certain circumstances.
Heroic discourse serves a mobilizing function in open warfare contexts. Yet, it can become a fallacy when presenting a false dilemma: resist without concessions or betray sovereignty. Historical experience shows that there are middle paths that preserve national dignity without imposing indefinite, growing sacrifice on the population.
Furthermore, when a political project has had nearly seven decades to prove its viability and hasn't built a self-sustaining economy without extreme controls or structural dependency, resistance ceases to defend the future and becomes the defense of an exhausted status quo.
Sovereignty isn't solely measured by the ability to resist external pressures but by ensuring dignified living conditions for citizens. When hospitals operate with energy limitations and transport collapses, the debate becomes an ethical issue of governmental responsibility, not an abstract one.
History doesn't automatically absolve those who resisted until the end. It often judges more harshly leaders who, capable of reducing human harm, chose to prolong it in the name of a narrative.
Cuba faces a strategic crossroads. Persisting in the siege epic may offer short-term discursive cohesion. However, if it doesn't change the external correlation or improve internal conditions, it risks becoming resistance that doesn't alter the outcome but deepens suffering.
Ultimately, the evaluation of leadership isn't measured by its ability to resist indefinitely but by recognizing when resistance ceases to be a reasonable option and becomes an unnecessary burden for its own people.
Questions on Cuba's Economic and Political Strategy
What impact do U.S. sanctions have on Cuba's energy supply?
U.S. sanctions, particularly the oil and fuel blockade, have drastically reduced Cuba's energy supply, affecting hospitals, transportation, food production, and essential services, creating internal vulnerability.
How has Cuba's economic model contributed to its current crisis?
Cuba's economic model, characterized by extreme centralization, state and military control, and suppression of political freedoms, has failed to build a sustainable economy, contributing significantly to the current crisis.
Why is the narrative of resistance in Cuba questioned?
The narrative of resistance is questioned because it maintains a system that hasn't delivered prosperity or openness, imposing indefinite sacrifices on the population without altering the external conflict's outcome.