The Cost of Silence in the Caribbean: CUBA?

THE 592 GUARDIAN|ACCOUNTABILITY JOURNALISM|GTOWN ,GUYANA

The Cost of Silence in the Caribbean: CUBA?

As Cuba deepens its diplomatic engagement across CARICOM, one response has been as loud as it is troubling: silence.

Timing, in geopolitics, is rarely accidental.

Cuba’s re-engagement with CARICOM comes at a moment when the region itself is rethinking energy sovereignty. From Trinidad and Guyana’s hydrocarbons to Barbados and Dominica’s renewable ambitions, the Caribbean is searching—urgently—for pathways out of dependence and vulnerability. Havana’s outreach fits squarely within that conversation: technical cooperation, medical diplomacy, energy collaboration.

Washington’s response, however, suggests discomfort with that alignment.

The Caribbean has seen this pattern before: pressure applied incrementally, justified rhetorically, and absorbed quietly—until it becomes precedent.

And precedent, once set, is rarely confined.

The question confronting CARICOM is not whether to align with Cuba politically. It is whether to defend a principle that underpins its own survival: that small states cannot be coerced into submission through economic strangulation without consequence.

Because if that principle erodes, then sovereignty itself becomes conditional.

Cuba’s diplomacy across the region is not merely outreach—it is a test. Not of alliances, but of resolve. And in that test, silence will not be read as neutrality. It will be read as permission.

Let us dispense with the diplomatic euphemisms. When a policy is designed to deprive a population of electricity, cooking gas, and basic energy stability, it crosses from strategy into coercion. When its stated or foreseeable outcome is widespread civilian hardship—heat without relief, food without preservation, hospitals under strain—it edges dangerously close to collective punishment.

The timing is telling. Just as Cuba signals incremental technological progress—developing methods to refine its own difficult crude and cautiously expanding production partnerships—the sanctions arrive, not as coincidence, but as interruption.

Progress, however modest, is treated as provocation. Self-sufficiency becomes a threat.

This is not about democracy. It has not been for decades.

Nowhere is that silence more pronounced—and more consequential—than in Guyana

At a moment when Washington escalates economic pressure against Cuba by targeting CUPET, the backbone of its energy survival, Georgetown has chosen not caution, but quiet alignment. There has been no meaningful expression of concern, no reaffirmation of principle, no recognition of the broader implications for small states navigating power asymmetries. Instead, what emerges is a posture of intransigence—one that places geopolitical convenience above historical memory and regional responsibility.

This is not a neutral stance. It is complicity by omission.

Guyana, of all nations, does not have the luxury of historical amnesia. Cuba was not a distant observer during Guyana’s formative struggles. It was a partner—offering medical support, education, technical training, and solidarity at a time when such gestures were neither fashionable nor strategically convenient. That relationship was not transactional; it was foundational.

To now stand inert as Cuba faces intensified economic strangulation is not pragmatism. It is abandonment dressed as diplomacy.

President Irfaan Ali’s government has, in recent years, cultivated an increasingly close alignment with Washington—one driven in part by Guyana’s rising profile as an oil-producing state. Strategic partnerships are neither unusual nor inherently problematic. But when alignment hardens into reflex, and reflex overrides principle, foreign policy begins to lose its independence.

What is unfolding is precisely that erosion.

The absence of a clear, principled stance on measures that target Cuba’s civilian energy infrastructure suggests a leadership more attuned to external approval than to the values Guyana has historically claimed as its own: sovereignty, non-interference, and regional solidarity.

These are not abstract ideals; they are the very safeguards small states rely on in a world defined by unequal power. To disregard them now is to weaken the very framework that protects Guyana itself.

There is also an uncomfortable truth that cannot be ignored. The current posture of Guyana’s leadership reflects not strategic balance, but strategic deference. The optics—and increasingly, the substance—suggest a government captivated by proximity to power, particularly in a U.S. political climate where hardline positions on Cuba are rewarded, not questioned.

This is not diplomacy anchored in confidence. It is diplomacy shaped by accommodation.

And while Washington’s political winds may shift—from administration to administration, from tone to tone—the consequences of these positions within the Caribbean endure. Relationships fray. Trust erodes. And the region’s ability to act collectively weakens.

Guyana’s silence does not occur in isolation; it resonates.

It signals to CARICOM that principles can be selectively applied. It signals to external powers that pressure tactics carry little regional cost. And it signals to Cuba that even those who once benefited from its solidarity may no longer find it politically convenient to speak.

That is a dangerous precedent.

Because the logic underpinning the sanctions against CUPET—the use of economic pressure to force political outcomes—does not end with Cuba. It establishes a model. And models, once normalized, expand.

Today, Cuba’s energy lifeline is the target. Tomorrow, any state pursuing policies outside the accepted orbit may find itself similarly exposed

Guyana, now flush with oil wealth and geopolitical attention, should understand this better than most. The question, then, is not whether Guyana must agree with Cuba on governance or ideology. That is beside the point. The question is whether it is prepared to defend a principle that once defined its own place in the world: that small nations deserve the space to determine their path without being economically suffocated into submission.

At present, the answer appears uncertain.

And in that uncertainty lies the deeper concern—not just for Cuba, but for the integrity of Caribbean diplomacy itself.