Cuba runs out of jet fuel as Trump's oil pressure campaign squeezes the island

Cuba told international airlines this week that it can no longer provide aviation fuel at airports across the island — a direct consequence of President Trump's campaign to cut off oil supplies to the communist nation.

The Cuban government issued the warning Sunday, according to a report from Spanish news agency EFE citing two sources. The fuel shortage was expected to take effect as early as Monday, grounding the island's ability to service international flights and delivering the most visible blow yet in an escalating standoff between Washington and Havana.

How Trump turned the screws

The fuel crisis didn't materialize overnight. It's the product of a deliberate, layered pressure campaign that has systematically severed Cuba's access to petroleum.

In late January, Trump signed an executive order threatening tariffs on any country or group doing business with Cuba or providing it with oil. That move came on the heels of U.S. military action in Venezuela — which removed Cuban ally Nicolás Maduro from power — cutting off what had been one of Havana's primary sources of crude. The American oil embargo on Venezuela then compounded the damage, eliminating a lifeline the Castro-successor regime had depended on for decades.

Trump made the stakes plain on Truth Social (via The Hill):

"THERE WILL BE NO MORE OIL OR MONEY GOING TO CUBA – ZERO!"

And then the offer — or the ultimatum, depending on which side of the Florida Strait you're standing on:

"I strongly suggest they make a deal, BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE."

That's not ambiguity. That's leverage, applied with precision.

A communist regime out of options

Cuba has spent six decades building an economy that depends on the patronage of hostile foreign powers — first the Soviet Union, then Venezuela, with Russia and others filling gaps along the way. That model works until the patrons disappear. Venezuela's Maduro is gone. Mexico, under U.S. pressure, has paused oil shipments. And now Cuba's airports can't fuel a passenger jet.

The humanitarian situation on the island was already deteriorating before the fuel crisis. Hurricane Melissa — one of the strongest Atlantic hurricanes on record — slammed into eastern Cuba in late October, wrecking homes, blocking mountain roads, and tearing roofs off buildings across the country. Cuba was struggling to recover from that disaster when the oil squeeze began tightening in earnest.

Last week, the State Department announced an additional $6 million in supplies for the Cuban people. That aid builds on an earlier round of assistance sent after Hurricane Melissa and is being delivered through the Catholic Church and Caritas — a deliberate bypass of the Cuban regime's distribution apparatus, ensuring the government can't divert resources meant for ordinary citizens.

This is the part the left will struggle with. The Trump administration is simultaneously applying maximum economic pressure on the Cuban government and sending direct humanitarian aid to the Cuban people. Those aren't contradictory policies. They're complementary ones — punish the regime, protect the population.

The "blockade" framing

Havana and its sympathizers in the press have settled on the word "blockade" to describe what's happening. It's a calculated choice. A blockade implies warships and a siege — something illegal under international law without a UN mandate. What the U.S. has actually done is threaten tariffs on nations that supply Cuba with oil and enforce an embargo on Venezuelan exports. That's economic pressure, not a naval cordon.

The distinction matters. Cuba's government wants the world to see a superpower strangling a small island. The reality is a communist regime that has refused, for over sixty years, to reform its economy, respect the rights of its people, or stop serving as a client state for America's adversaries. The oil didn't stop flowing because the U.S. put ships in the water. It stopped because no country wants to absorb tariffs to prop up a failed Marxist experiment in the Caribbean.

What comes next

Trump has laid the path forward in plain language: make a deal. The Cuban government has a choice that it has avoided for generations — negotiate with Washington or watch its remaining infrastructure grind to a halt.

The aviation fuel shortage is a symptom, not the disease. Cuba's economy was hollowed out long before this pressure campaign began. Decades of centralized planning, political repression, and dependence on foreign subsidies created an island nation that cannot feed, fuel, or power itself without outside help. Hurricane Melissa exposed the fragility. Trump's oil pressure revealed the rot underneath.

Eleven million Cubans deserve better than a government that would rather blame Washington than reform itself. The deal is on the table. The question is whether Havana's aging leadership has the sense to take it — or whether they'll let pride burn through the last drops of fuel they have left.