If you want to see the perfect picture of human stubbornness and political stupidity amidst the escalating **Havana economic crisis**, you have to look at the capital. It is a city that feels like a museum of bad decisions. The sun beats down on the crumbling streets of the Vedado neighborhood, and the heat is thick enough to chew on. Here, on Linea road, the theater of the absurd is in full swing. It is just past noon, but for Javier Peña and Ysil Ribas, the day is already old and tired. They have been waiting since 6 in the morning, victims of the severe **Cuba fuel shortage** that has paralyzed the island. They are not waiting for concert tickets or a glimpse of a movie star. They are waiting for gasoline.

They are passing the hours by fixing a leak on a 1955 Mercury. It is a gold and white relic from a time when the world was a different place. It is ironic, isn't it? They are keeping an American car alive on an island that America has been trying to break for sixty years. And now, the news comes from the north: it is about to get much worse. **Donald Trump** is back in the mix, and he is promising a "real blockade." This phrasing is almost funny, in a dark, twisted way. It implies that the last few decades of economic strangulation and **US sanctions** were just a game. It suggests that the suffering up until now was just a rehearsal.

According to the men in suits who run the world, the current pain is not enough. The script calls for more drama. Trump says the pressure must be turned up. He wants a complete cutoff. Experts—those people who sit in comfortable offices and analyze **global trade impacts**—say this will be "catastrophic" for Cuba’s infrastructure. They use big words to describe a simple reality: the lights will go out, the food will spoil, and the cars will stop moving. But if you ask the people in line, the catastrophe is not coming. It is already here. It is sitting right next to them in the passenger seat.

Consider the absurdity of the gas station itself. A tanker has finally arrived, and the line of cars grows longer, stretching back like a snake made of rust and hope. But this station is special. It does not accept the money that the Cuban people earn. It does not take the national peso. It only takes US dollars. Read that again and let the irony sink in. To buy fuel in a country that defines itself by its resistance to the United States, you must use the currency of the United States. The cost is so high that most locals can only dream of a full tank. Yet, Javier shrugs. "There is no gas in the national pesos," he says. It is a simple statement of fact that carries the weight of a tragedy.

This is the reality of the "maximum pressure" strategy. It does not hurt the people at the top. The leaders in Havana will not be waiting in line at 6 AM to fix a leak on an old Mercury. They will have drivers. They will have fuel. The leaders in Washington will not miss a meal. They will give speeches about freedom and democracy while tightening the noose around the necks of people like Javier and Ysil. It is a cynical game where the poor are used as pawns to prove a point that nobody remembers anymore.

We are watching a country running on fumes, quite literally. The infrastructure is rotting. The power grid fails so often that a lit lightbulb feels like a miracle. And what is the solution from the global stage? Squeeze harder. The logic is that if you make people miserable enough, they will rise up and change the government. But history shows us that when people are busy spending twelve hours a day looking for food and gas, they do not have the energy for a revolution. They only have the energy to survive until tomorrow.

The Cuban government plays its part in this farce, too. They love the blockade. It is their favorite excuse. If the roads are bad, it is the blockade. If the harvest fails, it is the blockade. If they manage the economy poorly, it is the blockade. Trump’s new threats are a gift to them. It gives them a fresh reason to tell their people that the enemy is outside, not inside. It allows them to point a finger across the water instead of looking in the mirror.

So, the play continues. The actors on the world stage recite their angry lines. The experts predict doom. And down on Linea road, two men wipe grease from their hands and look at a gas pump that demands money they barely have. They fix the old American car, hoping to buy the American fuel, while the American politician threatens to shut it all down. It would be a comedy if it wasn't so heartbreakingly stupid.

***

### Authoritative Sources & References * **Original Event:** For full details on the geopolitical implications of the new administration's policies, read "Cuba on the brink as Trump turns up the pressure: ‘There is going to be a real blockade’" at [The Guardian](https://www.theguardian.com/world/2026/feb/01/cuba-fuel-shortage-trump-tariffs). * **Fact Check:** The mention of "dollarized" gas stations refers to Cuba's Servi-Cupet network which often prioritizes hard currency (MLC) amidst liquidity crises.