On Cuba-China Ties, the U.S. Should Look in the Mirror | Opinion

The United States likes to think of the Western Hemisphere as its turf. The Monroe Doctrine, established in 1823 to keep European powers from establishing colonies in the Americas, is still very much a part of U.S. policy in 2023. The doctrine has come to symbolize everything Latin American countries dislike about the U.S.—that is, a large, elephant-like neighbor to the north stomping around to ensure governments in the region accede to U.S. wishes.

The one country defying those expectations is Cuba, which since the late Fidel Castro's revolution in 1959 has been a U.S. adversary proudly thumbing its nose at Washington. The island has taken on an almost mythic quality in the U.S. foreign policy discussion over the last 64 years, motivated by episodic moments of drama like the 1961 Bay of Pigs fiasco, the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, and the 1980 Mariel boatlift. Cuba remains a political lightening rod in Florida, a key swing state with a significant number of older Cuban exiles dead set against any U.S. détente with the government in Havana.

Now, we can add a little more drama to the story. According to The Wall Street Journal, the Cuban government is in talks with China, Washington's biggest strategist competitor, to construct a joint military training facility on the island. The report comes two weeks after another Journal article reported that Beijing struck a deal in principle to establish another surveillance facility in Cuba, adding to the four already in operation. U.S. officials quickly took notice. "We continue to be concerned about [China's] longstanding activities with Cuba," one official told POLITICO on June 20, reiterating that Beijing "will keep trying to enhance its presence in Cuba, and we will keep working to disrupt it."

Washington has reached out to its Cuban colleagues in an attempt to dissuade them from green-lighting the military facility. But given the poor state of U.S.-Cuban relations, why would Havana listen to Washington's lectures, let alone pull the plug on talks with the Chinese?

One doesn't need to be a historian or an expert of geopolitics to recognize why Cuba would at least explore a comprehensive intelligence relationship with China. For one, the U.S. is viewed by both China and Cuba as an adversary (although Chinese officials are careful to avoid that specific word in public). While China and Cuba are on the opposite ends of the power spectrum, both nevertheless regard the U.S. as a hypocritical and aggressive state that has no qualm utilizing its military and economic power to subvert its rivals.

Cuba also doesn't have many options in terms of choosing which big power it can partner with. Beggars can't be choosers. The Soviet Union, which the Castro brothers relied on for subsidies and financial aid over a period of decades, has been dead and buried for over 30 years. Russia has relations with the island but today's Russia isn't nearly as powerful as yesterday's Soviet Union. The Russians aren't in a position to transform the Cuban economy; Russia's GDP is roughly the size of Texas. Moscow has its hands full in Ukraine and can't offer the Cuban government anything that would change their position markedly.

If geography ruled the roost, the U.S. would be the obvious candidate for Cuba if it wanted to get rich quickly. But practically speaking, the U.S. is not a viable option due to the heavy U.S. trade restrictions that remain in place, clashing governing ideologies, constituencies in the U.S. that have an interest in maintaining a hardline U.S. policy, as well as the historical baggage defining relations between these two countries.

The last factor, historical baggage, cannot be overlooked. The world may be in its third decade of the 21st century but Washington's Cuba policy is still stuck in the 1960s. Ever since President John F. Kennedy authorized a full U.S. trade embargo on Feb. 3, 1962, Cuba has been off-limits to U.S. businesses. Unsurprisingly, the embargo has deeply impacted the political relationship. The Cuban government's repression of dissidents and its sponsorship of Communist insurgents in Latin America and Africa during the Cold War led U.S. administrations across the political spectrum to crack down on Cuba's finances in the hope it would constrain Havana. Regime change in Cuba was a top U.S. policy objective from the moment Fidel Castro's revolution forced the U.S.-supported dictator Fulgencio Batista from power in 1959; the CIA attempted to kill Castro multiple times, including by poisoning a box of his favorite cigars.

While the assassination campaigns eventually stopped, the U.S. economic pressure campaign never did. Ronald Reagan listed Cuba as a state sponsor of terrorism in 1982. President George H.W. Bush convinced Russian President Boris Yeltsin to stop sending an annual $3 billion a year to Cuba in 1992. Congress would codify the trade embargo into law in 1996, which forbid any U.S. president from lifting it until a free-market democracy was established on the island.

President Barack Obama, realizing the embargo was doing nothing to help the Cuban people or U.S. goals, altered U.S. policy by re-establishing diplomatic relations with Havana, increasing travel and making an unprecedented trip to Cuba himself. But his successor, Donald Trump, reversed those moves by capping remittances and imposing stronger limitations on financial activity. President Joe Biden has kept most of those policies in place, although he did relax the cap on remittances and allow more flights between the U.S. and Cuba last year.

It would be unfair to suggest that 60-odd years of U.S. policy is the sole factor pushing Cuba to enhancing its ties with China. But there can be no doubt that U.S. policy is at least one factor driving Havana's current calculations. To pretend otherwise is delusional.

Daniel R. DePetris is a fellow at Defense Priorities and a syndicated foreign affairs columnist at the Chicago Tribune.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.