This weekend, Havana spoke in a voice the world has heard before.
After President Donald Trump declared that Cuba would receive “no more oil or money — ZERO” following the collapse of Venezuela’s Maduro regime, Cuba’s president Miguel Díaz-Canel responded without hedging:
“Cuba is a free, independent, and sovereign nation. No one tells us what to do.”
It was not improvisation.
It was inheritance.
Defiant Until the End — And the Cost of It
What made the exchange more striking is how familiar it sounded.
Just days earlier, Venezuela’s Nicolás Maduro, standing before a U.S. court after his capture, rejected the legitimacy of his removal and insisted he remained Venezuela’s rightful leader. Defiant to the end — not because defiance changes outcomes, but because backing down, in these systems, is indistinguishable from surrender.
The tragedy is not the rhetoric.
It is who pays for it.
When leaders cling to absolutes, it is ordinary people — families, workers, children — who absorb the consequences. Sanctions harden. Supply lines disappear. Electricity flickers. Food thins. Pride remains intact, but suffering compounds quietly below the surface.
Sovereignty as Muscle Memory
For Cuba, this posture is not performative. It is reflexive.
For more than a century, the island has learned that external pressure rarely arrives with nuance — and almost never leaves gently. So sovereignty becomes a shield, even when it hurts to hold. Saying “no one tells us what to do” is less a threat than a boundary drawn from experience.
This is why Cuba often appears unmoved by ultimatums. Not because it is immune — but because it has already internalized scarcity as the price of autonomy.
Why Stories Matter When Speeches Fail
This is where historical fiction — including Havana Famiglia, now newly released — earns its quiet relevance. Not by explaining policy, but by illuminating the human terrain beneath it.
The book does not argue whether defiance is right or wrong. It asks a more enduring question: what does prolonged resistance do to families, relationships, and memory when history keeps knocking at the door?
Because when leaders double down, it is not ideology that endures — it is people.
And people remember.
Q&A
Q: Why does Cuba respond so forcefully to U.S. pressure?
A: Because Cuban political identity has been shaped by external intervention for generations. Defiance functions as a survival instinct, not merely a political tactic.
Q: How does Maduro’s response relate to Cuba’s stance?
A: Both reflect systems where backing down risks internal collapse. Defiance becomes the final assertion of legitimacy, even when outcomes are already decided.
Q: Who suffers most from prolonged geopolitical standoffs?
A: Ordinary citizens — through shortages, isolation, and economic contraction — long after leaders have spoken their final words.
About the Author
About the Author
Miles Spencer is a multi-exit founder, investor, and author whose work explores geopolitics through the lens of family, memory, and lived consequence. His writing often examines what happens when power collides with inheritance — and who carries the weight after decisions are made. He co-wrote Havana Famiglia with Wells Jones.