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Recovering the dead has become a final test of human dignity
In every war, there is supposed to come a moment when the guns fall silent and families carry their dead to the cemetery.
In Gaza, that moment has still not fully arrived.
Nearly three years into the war, thousands of Palestinian families are still waiting—not to learn whether their loved ones survived, but for the chance to recover what remains of them from beneath collapsed homes and buried streets.
Many families know almost exactly where their relatives are: beneath a particular building, under a collapsed staircase, behind layers of concrete too heavy to move by hand. Across Gaza, rubble is no longer only evidence of destruction. In many places, it is also a grave.
There should be no disagreement over one principle: The dead have a right to be recovered and buried with dignity, and families have a right to know where their loved ones lie.
The urgent humanitarian question is therefore not only how many people were killed. It is how many are still waiting to be recovered, identified, and buried.
On August 4, 2026, Gaza held a mass funeral for 112 members of the al-Hassayna and Abu Sharia extended family. Their remains had been recovered from homes destroyed in Gaza City’s Sabra neighborhood in November 2023. For nearly three years, their families had waited to bury them.
That funeral was a warning about what time does to the dead—and to those left behind.
The longer remains stay beneath collapsed buildings, the harder identification becomes. Decomposition advances. Bones separate. Personal belongings are displaced. Forensic evidence deteriorates. Gaza’s forensic capacity also remains severely limited.
For families, identification is not a technical detail. It is the difference between a missing person and a known grave. It is the ability to perform a funeral, visit a burial place, and begin mourning with certainty rather than suspicion.
For relatives, the waiting is its own form of suffering. Some families return again and again to the same ruins, pointing to the place where a bedroom, kitchen, or stairwell once stood. They are not asking for certainty about survival; they are asking for the basic certainty of a grave. Until recovery happens, mourning is suspended between memory and rubble.
There are legal consequences as well. Without formal recovery and identification, families can face prolonged uncertainty over death registration, inheritance, guardianship, and other civil matters. A person may be gone in every human sense and still remain unresolved on paper.
The physical challenge is enormous. A 2026 damage and needs assessment by the United Nations, the European Union, and the World Bank estimated that the war had generated more than 68 million metric tons of rubble in Gaza. Some debris are contaminated by unexploded ordnance, asbestos, and other hazardous materials.
Recovering the dead is therefore not a matter of sending people into ruins with shovels. It requires excavators, cranes, fuel, protective equipment, forensic teams, DNA identification capacity, safe humanitarian access, and protection for civil-defense and rescue workers.
Heavy machinery is not a luxury. It is the difference between a body remaining beneath concrete and a family finally being able to bury its dead.
In July 2026, the United Nations Development Programme and the European Union launched a €15 million initiative to support emergency debris removal and strengthen Gaza’s capacity for the dignified recovery and identification of human remains. It is important, but the need is far greater than any single project.
That is why debris removal must treat the recovery of human remains as a central humanitarian priority, not as an afterthought to reconstruction. Sites where people are believed to be buried should be mapped and handled carefully, with procedures for documenting remains, preserving evidence, and notifying families. Rebuilding Gaza cannot mean building over the missing.
What is required now is neither complicated nor impossible.
Humanitarian teams need safe and unhindered access to recovery sites. Excavators, cranes, fuel, spare parts, and specialized equipment must be allowed in without delay. Forensic capacity must be expanded, including DNA identification and proper preservation of remains. Civil-defense, rescue, forensic, and humanitarian teams must be protected.
These are not maximalist political demands. They are the minimum requirements of human dignity.
People will continue to disagree about politics and the future of this conflict. But there should be no disagreement over one principle: The dead have a right to be recovered and buried with dignity, and families have a right to know where their loved ones lie.
A bulldozer should not become a diplomatic bargaining chip. A crane should not require a political breakthrough. Reaching the body of a child should not become another battle.
Civilization is measured not only by what it builds for the living, but by the dignity it preserves for the dead.
Open the crossings and humanitarian routes. Allow the heavy machinery and forensic equipment in. Protect the teams recovering the dead. Give families the chance to bury their loved ones.
Because even after war has taken a life, it should not be allowed to take away a name, a grave, and a final goodbye.
Human dignity does not end with death.
Let Gaza bury its dead.
"Introducing low-visibility electric shock weapons into our immigration enforcement system is an unacceptable escalation."
A group of House Democrats on Monday demanded the immediate cancellation of a nearly $17 million federal contract to provide electric shock gloves to Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents, who have been unleashed on American cities under the second Trump administration and enabled to commit horrific—and, in some cases, deadly—abuses against undocumented immigrants and American citizens.
The Democratic lawmakers, led by Rep. Delia Ramirez of Illinois, expressed "profound alarm" over the contract in a new letter to Department of Homeland Security (DHS) Secretary Markwayne Mullin, whose agency oversees ICE. The letter's 50 signatories wrote that the devices, known as Generated Low Output Voltage Emitters (GLOVE), are "designed to inflict severe pain without leaving physical evidence or visible optics," making them "a uniquely dangerous tool for unaccountable abuse."
"We demand the immediate cancellation of this contract and a total ban on the deployment of these abusive devices across all immigration enforcement and detention operations," the lawmakers continued. "The rollout of these weapons to thousands of field agents across ICE’s Enforcement and Removal Operations and Homeland Security Investigations contributes to a DHS environment already under widespread scrutiny for state-sanctioned abuse, torture, and arbitrary cruelty."
The Democrats sent their letter days after ICE granted a $16.7 million no-bid contract to the Kentucky-based firm Compliant Technologies for 6,000 pairs of electric shock gloves, ignoring the protests of lawmakers and human rights groups.
The ACLU, Physicians for Human Rights, and the Center for Victims of Torture (CVT) are among the advocacy organizations that have decried ICE plans to equip its agents with the gloves. CVT has described the devices as "inherently abusive equipment that facilitates torture."
In their Monday letter, the group of House Democrats warned that the "dangers of these 'less-lethal' weapons are not theoretical," pointing to the case of a 43-year-old man in Kentucky who died after corrections officers shocked him dozens of times with electric gloves.
More than 50 people have died in ICE custody during President Donald Trump's second term.
"This administration continues to outfit ICE and [Customs and Border Protection] with the tools of an occupying paramilitary force—despite widespread human rights violations carried out by its agents during immigration enforcement actions," the lawmakers wrote. "Introducing low-visibility electric shock weapons into our immigration enforcement system is an unacceptable escalation that prioritizes physical intimidation and unaccountable force over human safety and administrative accountability.
On top of calling for cancellation of the contract, the House Democrats demanded information on any threat assessments ICE conducted before awarding the contract, whether the agency has trained its officers with electric shock gloves, and whether DHS intends to implement any productions to "prevent officers from using them for punitive measures, retaliation, or against non-threatening individuals."
"We reiterate our demand that you immediately halt the acquisition and deployment of electric shock gloves, cancel the contract, and refocus the Department’s resources on accountability and humanitarian standards rather than expanding a paramilitary apparatus," the lawmakers wrote.
Life in Cuba is full of suffering not because of socialism but because of a 67-year-long blockade by the world’s largest superpower.
Recently, while listening to an NPR interview with Cuban-American musician Arturo Sandoval, I was reminded of the late political scientist Michael Parenti’s classic text, "Inventing Reality: The Politics of the Mass Media."
In his 1986 book, Parenti described a situation that is still relevant 40 years later—when the US fears that another country’s non-capitalistic political model (and its attendant advances in social justice and quality of life) could cause US citizens to question their own system, it regularly imposes an embargo and sanctions against the country. Next, the news media reports on the suffering caused by these policies while, at the same time, avoiding any mention of the embargo and sanctions. Finally, when after years or decades of suffering, the people of this blockaded country take out their anger on the closest target and begin protesting against their government, the US steps in. It places a puppet president in power and pours into the country the money it had withheld throughout the embargo. Then, the media reports on how well everyone is now doing without, once more, acknowledging the oversized role the embargo played in the prior devastation.
In the aforementioned NPR interview, host Scott Simon perfectly perpetuated this model of media complicity by announcing towards the interview’s conclusion, “Arturo Sandoval, I’ve got to put you on the spot a little. You’ve been pretty quiet about politics over the years, but obviously you fled Cuba. When Fidel Castro died, you spoke out about your disdain for his regime. It was ten years ago.” Then, with no historical or even recent context, Simon concluded with, “Cuba seems to be almost worse than ever now.”
With this final declaration in which he erroneously implied a connection between Cuba’s current immiseration and Fidel Castro’s rule, Simon led Sandoval into his response: “Sixty-seven and a half years is way too long, man… The people in Cuba are desperate and hopeless.”
Citizens who are not given the context of the news cannot be engaged participants in the democratic process.
Simon allowed his guest to say this unchallenged as if these decades of desperation and hopelessness are the result of Cuba’s 1959 revolution. To the contrary, in addition to footing the bill for Sandoval’s musical education (he attended the free Cuban National Art School, founded by Fidel Castro), the Cuban Revolution redefined human rights as access for all to free education, free healthcare, low-cost daycare centers, and highly subsidized housing.
The desperation Sandoval referred to is the direct result of the 67-year-old embargo against Cuba imposed by the United States, the longest embargo in the history of the world. Combined with its multitude of supplementary sanctions (more than 200 of which were enacted during Trump’s first term in office), these punitive measures prohibit Cuba from purchasing products, including medicine, manufactured abroad if they contain more than 10% of US-origin components. They restrict US residents’ ability to travel to Cuba. They hinder Cubans residing in the US from wiring money to their families, a common way for immigrants from all parts of the world to supplement the income of relatives back home.
The Cuban embargo has received worldwide condemnation. For more than three decades now, the UN General Assembly has annually presented its members with a resolution to denounce the embargo. Year after year, its 193 member states cast a near-unanimous vote affirming the resolution. The only two countries that consistently vote against it—and in favor of the embargo— are, unsurprisingly, the US and Israel.
Unfortunately, the UN resolution, while a significant show of solidarity, has no authority to end the embargo. As codified by US law, only the US Congress has this power.
In addition and sadly, the suffering caused by the embargo is not a mere result of the blockade but the explicit objective of it as stated in a declassified 1960 government document posted on the National Security Archive’s website and abstracted as follows: “This memo, written by Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs Lestor Mallory, provides the original, unvarnished, policy rationale for imposing trade restrictions on Cuba. Fidel Castro’s revolution is quite popular in Cuba, Mallory points out; since there is no effective opposition against him, the only way to undercut Castro’s support is ‘through disenchantment and disaffection based on economic dissatisfaction and hardship.’ Mallory advocates a set of punitive economic actions designed to deny ‘money and supplies to Cuba, to decrease monetary and real wages, to bring about hunger, desperation, and the overthrow of [the] government.’”
Beyond the embargo and its sanctions, the US designation of Cuba as a State Sponsor of Terrorism (SSOT) contributes to what Sandoval referred to as the Cuban people’s hopelessness and desperation. The partisan political boomerang of the SSOT was initiated by President Ronald Reagan in 1982 for Cuba’s support of Latin American leftist groups. It was removed by Obama in 2015, reinstated by Trump in 2021, symbolically removed by Biden on January 14th, 2025, at the end of his presidency, and again reinstated by Trump on January 20th, 2025, at the start of his second term.
Along with other restrictions, the sponsor-of-terrorism status forbids US international aid organizations, including Food for Peace and the Peace Corps, from offering humanitarian assistance to Cuba. It prohibits Cuba from receiving loans from the World Bank and other international financial institutions. These are loans which could be used for much-needed projects such as an overhaul of the island’s aging electrical grid, which has caused multiple nationwide blackouts over the past two years.
Furthermore, as described by the Washington Office on Latin America, the SSOT “has a chilling effect on businesses, including banking or telecommunications investments that are crucial to promoting the type of transformation essential to expanding freedom on the island.” Ironically, this freedom (ie: the opening of business and economic opportunities) is precisely what the US purports to desire for the Cuban people. And it is this lack of this freedom, which Sandoval said in the somber closing statement of his NPR interview, that prevents him from returning to Cuba and will leave him to “die dreaming” of a homecoming.
At this point in the interview, what Scott Simon didn’t say becomes as, if not more, significant than what he did. It is that, in Fidel Castro’s final two years of life, a sense of hope and a feeling of, yes, freedom pervaded Cuba.
Hope came to Cubans with Obama’s 2014 détente, which, while not a revocation of the embargo [only able to be repealed by Congress], still enabled the US Embassy in Cuba and the Cuban Embassy in the US to reopen for the first time in 50 years. Washington’s rapprochement permitted commercial and direct mail flights between the two countries to be reinstated and for restrictions on remittances to be loosened. This, in turn, allowed Cuban-Americans, like immigrants from other countries, to now easily send money to their families on the island.
Freedom came from an opening of the Cuban economy, from the government’s expanded opportunities for private businesses. Cubans responded enthusiastically, opening record numbers of cafés and restaurants and music and art venues, among other enterprises to which their new American friends, now able to travel freely to Cuba, flocked in record numbers.
It was a boon for both sides—and evidence that another way of engaging with Cuba was possible. Until, that is, Trump was elected at the end of 2016 and, soon thereafter, began systematically shutting everything down once more.
If not for the very real damage it inflicts on the country, the SSOT designation could be considered laughable, as, during all these decades as a supposed sponsor of terrorism, Cuba has remained steadfast in its commitment to a peaceful coexistence with its neighbors near and far. For the past quarter of a century, Cuba’s Latin American Medical School, esteemed for both its size (enrollment-wise, it is considered the largest medical school in the world) and its focus on preventative healthcare, has offered a full-ride, plus a monthly living stipend, for students from low-income communities around the world, including the US.
Additionally, in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, Cuba offered aid workers to the US, although President Bush rebuffed this overture. In the early days of COVID-19, Cuba sent medical brigades to help Italy contain its outbreak. And this was in addition to the doctors Cuba regularly sent to countries in need from Algeria to Honduras to Sri Lanka. Until, that is, in 2025 the US began threatening to deny visas to the leaders of countries accepting assistance from Cuban doctors; and the targeted countries, fearing retribution, terminated their contracts with Cuba.
This past March, as Jamaica’s Cuban doctors headed home following one such termination, hundreds of Jamaicans took to the streets for what they called a “Gratitude Walk.” For three miles, they marched wearing t-shirts reading, “Thank you Cuba for 50 years of medical service” and chanting, “We love Cuba” and “Bring back the doctors.”
Walk participant Rupert Walters, President of the Jamaica-Cuba Friendship Association’s St. Catherine’s chapter and a beneficiary of Cuban care for his prostate cancer, called his government’s decision to cave to US pressure “crazy.” Walters told the Jamaica Observer that he wished the government had “allowed the Cubans to support and give their services to the hundreds of thousands of Jamaicans who can’t afford it,” and warned that, as a result of the medical program termination, Jamaicans would die.
Rather than supporting terrorism, Cuba has long been the target of terrorist attacks by the US government. There was the CIA’s half-century of documented assassination attempts against Fidel Castro, involving everything from poison pens to exploding cigars.
Less comical and more lethal were terrorist attacks led by Luis Posada Carriles, a Cuban exile and CIA operative. In 1976, 35 years before September 11th, Posada Carriles masterminded the Western Hemisphere’s first act of political terrorism against a civilian flight. His bombing of a Cubana de Aviación airplane killed all 73 passengers, 24 of whom comprised the entirety of the Juvenile Cuban National Fencing team. In the summer of 1997, Posada Carrilles began another bombing campaign, this time targeting Havana hotels, restaurants, and discotheques—and killing an Italian tourist. Finally arrested in Panama in 2000 for attempting to assassinate Fidel Castro at a conference he was attending there, Posada Carrilles later fled to the US, where he was detained for illegal entry and then pardoned by President Bush. In 2018, he died a free man in Miami.
Although Scott Simon didn’t say this in his interview with Arturo Sandoval, the current “worse-than-ever” situation he referenced is due to the US’s oil blockade, initiated by an Executive Order from Trump in January. Under this latest act of economic warfare, tankers trying to deliver petroleum to the island are threatened with tariffs and, if they still attempt to do so, they are chased away by US Coast Guard vessels.
Like the embargo, like the sanctions, like the SSOT status, the fuel blockade has caused widespread suffering for the Cuban people. It impedes access to electricity and also to water, which arrives at most houses in Cuba via an electric pump. It prevents the preservation of not just food but also of medicines that need refrigeration.
Many Cubans now sleep outside, on rooftops or on the Malecón seawall, to escape the sweltering summer heat, made all the more unbearable without the electricity to run their fans. Because electricity (which has been prioritized for hospitals and schools) is now available in most houses for just two hours per day, Cubans must wake up whenever it arrives (even if it is at 3 AM) to do all they couldn’t without it—wash clothes and dishes, cook and bathe. And collect water for the next outage. So, sleep too, has become a casualty of this US-provoked humanitarian crisis, referred to by a group of US Representatives who visited the island in July as a “silent Gaza.”
By engaging in de-contextualized reporting rather than shedding light on the reasons why the current situation is as it is, mainstream US media outlets like NPR do their listeners a grave and dangerous disservice. For, as The Washington Post’s motto warns us, albeit a little more ironically after Jeff Bezos’ purchase of it, “Democracy dies in darkness.”
Citizens who are not given the context of the news cannot be engaged participants in the democratic process. Without the full story as to why what is happening in our world is happening, we are rendered powerless to change it. Without our consent, we become cogs in the bulldozer of US interventionism and imperialism.
Life in Cuba is full of suffering not because of socialism but because of a 67-year-long blockade by the world’s largest superpower. In a government now absent of checks and balances, we need to call out the offending media. We need to let them know that we’re paying attention, that we hold them accountable for their lies of omission— and that we demand better.
The responsibility to protect access to clean water must guide their decisions on data centers, carbon capture and storage facilities, and other large industrial projects.
Increasingly, communities are facing threats to clean water from large industrial projects such as data centers and carbon capture and storage, or CCS, facilities that are being proposed and constructed in communities across the United States. The question is how should decisions about these facilities be made? Should government officials privilege capital and financial investments? Should they balance investment with other considerations such as noise, water, and energy costs?
Of all the issues raised by these large projects, water is one of the most crucial for the simple reason that we cannot live without water. Given this necessity, access to clean water must be treated as a human right with governments charged with the ethical responsibility to serve as the trustees of water to protect it for present and future generations. This responsibility to protect access to clean water as a human right must guide their decisions on data centers and CCS facilities and other large industrial projects.
Data centers are buildings, sometimes the size of large warehouses, that can contain hundreds of thousands of computer chips that provide processing and storage for online data including data used for energy-intensive artificial intelligence and cryptocurrency, as well as less energy-intensive activities such as storing websites and other data. Carbon capture and storage facilities capture carbon dioxide emitted from industrial facilities and store it underground to prevent the CO2 from escaping into the atmosphere where it would contribute to climate change. Carbon capture facilities can include factory-size machinery that removes carbon dioxide from industrial air emissions, pipelines that transport the CO2, and underground storage repositories. Data centers and carbon capture and storage facilities typically consume large amounts of energy and water. They commonly also have toxic emissions, posing further risks to air, water, and health.
People have a human right to a clean environment—an idea recognized by the United Nations and enshrined in the constitutions of multiple states including Hawaii, Illinois, Massachusetts, Montana, and Pennsylvania. The provisions from Hawaii, Massachusetts, Montana, and Pennsylvania explicitly mention the importance of protecting water supplies. Pennsylvania’s Environmental Rights Amendment says, for example: “The people have a right to clean air, pure water, and to the preservation of the natural, scenic, historic and esthetic values of the environment. Pennsylvania’s public natural resources are the common property of all the people, including generations yet to come. As trustee of these resources, the Commonwealth shall conserve and maintain them for the benefit of all the people."
Current projects being rushed through city councils or county boards, cloaked in non-disclosure agreements and granted tax credits, deny the public the right to full information about the project and undermine the ability of governments to fulfill its public trust duties.
Most constitutions, like Pennsylvania’s that contain the human right to a clean environment have a parallel provision, that asserts the responsibility of government to serve as the trustee of the commons or natural resources. For purposes of an ordinance on water, government, as the trustee of water, has a duty to make decisions that guarantee water quality and quantity now and into the future for the people within its jurisdiction.
If access to adequate, clean water is a human right—and given the uncertainty about water quantity and quality in light of unstable climate and weather patterns, increasing demands, and aging infrastructure—arguably the most appropriate decision-making tool for governments to use to fulfill its trustee responsibilities is the precautionary principle. The principle stands for the premise that we should take action, even in the face of scientific uncertainty, to prevent harm by
This principle is the commonsense idea behind many adages: “Better safe than sorry.” “Look before you leap.” “First do no harm.”
One step in implementing the precautionary principle to protect water requires special focus: the public’s right to give free, prior, and informed consent to projects that will impact water quantity and quality. The consent of the governed is fundamental to democracy as expressed in documents dating back to the Declaration of Independence. Current projects being rushed through city councils or county boards, cloaked in non-disclosure agreements and granted tax credits, deny the public the right to full information about the project and undermine the ability of governments to fulfill its public trust duties.
By protecting local water supplies that may be threatened by these new, energy- and water- intensive uses, communities can help ensure that our most important natural resource remains clean and abundant for generations yet to come.
This is the first challenge against the Trump administration on protest crackdowns by an international court, and one of the first legal challenges generally.
Tuesday, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, or IACHR, at the Organization of American States, a body historically committed to investigating crimes against humanity committed by governments in the Americas, held a hearing in Washington, DC against the Trump administration for its treatment of protests held against Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE, crackdowns in the US.
The delegation, represented by Thomas Becker and Nicholas Rodelo, for the University Network for Human Rights, presented evidence of attacks of rights to free assembly and free expression by the Trump administration.
Becker has previously successfully prosecuted a civil lawsuit against former Bolivian President and US ally, Gonzalo Sanchez de Lozada, over 2003 crackdowns and extrajudicial killings of protesters.
This is the first challenge against the Trump administration on protest crackdowns by an international court, and one of the first legal challenges generally. Speakers included Antonio Romanucci, the attorney representing the family of Renee Good, and former counsel of George Floyd; Reverend David Black, who was struck in the head by federal agents at the Broadview Detention Facility; and Naureen Shah, the director of government affairs at the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU).
Speakers and observers at the hearing argued that the commission must be empowered to investigate fully and act decisively, warning that the region is entering a new era of authoritarianism even as many of its democracies remain young and fragile.
During the hearing, video evidence and testimony were presented documenting the alleged abuses, prompting a response from State Department lawyers who argued that the incidents represented isolated cases still under investigation, that the United States has rights the commission should respect, and that the IACHR ought to focus its attention elsewhere in the hemisphere, a suggestion that drew scrutiny given that the US has faced far fewer cases before the commission than many other member states.
State Department representatives further contended that federal agents operating under significant stress could not be expected to act "perfectly," and maintained that any agents found to have violated standards would face penalties, though they were unable to answer specific questions from commissioners about ongoing cases or offer evidence of any such penalties actually being imposed, saying only that they would "write down" the questions and respond later.
The commission and the civil society delegation renewed a request—thus far denied by Washington—for an IACHR delegation to visit the United States, likely Chicago, to assess conditions on the ground.
Petitioners also singled out National Security Presidential Memorandum-7 (NSPM-7) as a central mechanism of the crackdown, arguing it chills freedom of expression by recasting protesters and dissidents, including anti-capitalist, "anti-Christian," and anti-fascist activists, as "terrorists." Blacklists of prominent leftist actors have also been compiled, with state resources used to prosecute them. "This is the new McCarthyism," the delegation added.
They pointed out that resources once dedicated to investigating internal abuse by immigration enforcement agents have instead been slashed, citing an internal FBI memo halting investigations into Department of Homeland Security officers, and that officials tasked with oversight are now regarded within the agencies as "internal adversaries" rather than watchdogs.
"These are the exact same tactics used by Latin American dictatorships from the 1970s," said Becker. "These tactics have been propped up by the US for decades, and are now coming back here, to be used against Americans," he added. The commission was created in the wake of the rise of military dictatorships in Latin America, backed by the US during the Cold War, including Augusto Pinochet in Chile, Rafael Videla in Argentina, and Hugo Banzer in Bolivia.
Becker also argued, "This is not the first time that agents backed by the US government target priests," alluding to the past abuses and killings of religious opposition leaders in Central America.
Speaking to Drop Site News, Dr. James Cavallaro, former president of IACHR and law faculty at Columbia, Stanford, and Harvard, added that "there is a conviction from those in power that they can suppress dissent" and rule through power and violence to "impose their ideology," where "opposition must be crushed."
This is the first time the commission has held any hearing of this type concerning domestic repression against the US government, which was the main force behind the founding and funding of the IACHR and the Organization of American States (OAS). “For years, the commission has heard testimony about attacks on protesters carried out by some of the region’s most repressive dictatorships. Now, it is the United States that will be called to answer for these abuses,” said Cavallaro.
The US government, including figures in the current administration like Secretary of State Marco Rubio, has historically been supportive of the IACHR and the OAS, but may see the IACHR as a new target, as it continues its campaign against international legal organizations including the International Criminal Court.
Locke Bowman, attorney for Reverend David Black, shared, "What happened to Rev. Black was emblematic of the physical abuse that ICE and CBP [Customs and Border Patrol] officers directed at conscientious folks in Chicago, Minneapolis, Portland, and elsewhere around the country who bore witness to the Trump administration's cruel immigration policies with their voices, their prayers, and their cellphone cameras."
He added: "There has been no accountability whatsoever for the officers responsible for the pervasive violations of free speech and human dignity. We turn to the Inter-American Commission to ask that the commission join us in demanding accountability."
At the hearing, the University Network for Human Rights also published a detailed report, submitted as part of its formal petition to the commission, laying out documented instances of excessive force, free expression violations, and lack of accountability tied to the crackdown on ICE protests.
The commission is now expected to weigh whether the evidence and testimony presented warrant further inquiry, including a possible on-the-ground visit to the United States, before issuing findings or referring the matter further within the inter-American human rights system.
The last hearing against the US government, sponsored by the ACLU, was held in the context of dozens of extrajudicial killings by US forces in the Caribbean and Pacific, against "drug boats," which experts say violate US and international law, violate local sovereignty, and kill civilians without due process, all without helping to solve the drug crisis. Previously, the IACHR had held proceedings in the context of detainee treatment at Guantánamo Bay, among other cases.
Speakers and observers at the hearing argued that the commission must be empowered to investigate fully and act decisively, warning that the region is entering a new era of authoritarianism even as many of its democracies remain young and fragile. Crime and migration are increasingly being used as pretexts to suspend democratic norms, enabling interference in elections; extrajudicial killings; bans on opposition parties; declared states of exception; suspended protest rights; the jailing of dissidents; militarized policing; and the dismantling of checks on military, intelligence, and presidential power.
This is the most serious test facing democracy in Latin America since the Cold War, with echoes of the Reagan-era doctrine that once propped up authoritarian allies across the region. Now, the United States is again playing that role, installing, arming, backing, and protecting governments that suppress dissent, and reaching for sanctions, tariffs, and even support for coups to keep them in power.
If an American participates in organized violence against civilians abroad, that person should be investigated. If evidence supports it, they should be prosecuted under applicable US law.
In a rare quiet moment inside the resuscitation room at Nasser Hospital in Gaza, I stood beside a young Palestinian man helping us treat waves of wounded children. He worked with calm precision. Focused. Unflinching.
Then he told me about his brother. Beaten nearly to death by Israeli settlers in the West Bank. Not once. Repeatedly. Ribs broken. Face shattered. The attacks ended only when his family fled the land they had farmed for generations.
“They wanted us gone,” he said. Some of the men who carry out this violence hold United States passports.
They live under American law. They vote in American elections. Then they travel abroad and take part in acts that, in any other context, would be recognized without hesitation: assault, arson, organized racial violence. Homes burned. Crops destroyed. Families driven off land.
An American who beats a man because of his ethnicity, drives him from his home, and destroys the means by which his family survives is not transformed into something else by crossing a border.
And then they return. They pass through US customs. They resume their lives. No charges. No investigation. No meaningful consequence.
This is not an abstraction. Human rights organizations, Israeli and international alike, have documented repeated incidents of settler violence in the West Bank: physical attacks on civilians, destruction of agricultural land, the burning of homes and olive groves, often carried out with little immediate accountability.
Some of those involved are Americans. Under US law, citizenship is extraordinarily difficult to revoke. The Supreme Court has made that clear. But citizenship is not the only instrument of accountability, and treating it as such allows something far worse to persist: impunity.
If an American participates in organized violence against civilians abroad, that person should be investigated. If evidence supports it, they should be prosecuted under applicable US law. If their actions meet the threshold of coordinated or systematic violence, then sanctions, asset restrictions, and limits on international travel should follow.
A passport should not function as a safe harbor.
In 2024, the United States took limited steps to sanction individuals and entities linked to settler violence. It was an acknowledgment, however modest, that this problem exists. In early 2025, that framework was dismantled.
The message was clear. Even minimal accountability was negotiable.
Meanwhile, the violence continues. This is where the question becomes unavoidable.
What does it mean for Israel, a country that defines itself as a democracy under law, to tolerate or fail to prevent organized violence by settlers against civilians in the West Bank?
And what does it mean for the United States to allow its own citizens to participate in that violence and return home untouched?
These are not separate questions. They are reflections of the same failure.
An American who beats a man because of his ethnicity, drives him from his home, and destroys the means by which his family survives is not transformed into something else by crossing a border. Geography does not dilute the crime. It only obscures it.
If that same act occurred in the United States, there would be no ambiguity in how it is described or prosecuted.
When it occurs in the West Bank as part of a broader pattern of displacement, it demands the same clarity.
The tools for accountability already exist. Federal statutes governing violent crime, conspiracy, and, in certain cases, war crimes. Sanctions authorities. Civil liability. Immigration and travel restrictions.
What is missing is not law. It is willingness.
Impunity is not an accident here. It is a decision, made repeatedly, on both sides of the ocean.
The man I met in Gaza was not asking for revenge. He was asking for the violence to stop. He was asking for a form of justice that does not end at a checkpoint or a border crossing.
A United States passport should carry weight. It should represent a commitment to law, not an escape from it.
Right now, in too many cases, it does the opposite. And everyone involved knows it.
Could the irrationality, lack of knowledge, and limited vision of world leaders destroy the hopes that the world’s people have invested in the UN?
Currently we live in a world bristling with nuclear and conventional weapons—with a potential destructiveness unprecedented in history. A nuclear war, for example, would largely be over in one hour, with each second equivalent in destruction to World War II.
Meanwhile, our security is increasingly threatened by skyrocketing global military expenditure at the same time as the United Nation’s capacity to maintain peace is being undermined by member states starving the organization of funds.
In the aftermath of two world wars, there was considerable hope that humanity would learn its lesson and that each would be “the war to end all wars.” Indeed, the United Nations was created for just this purpose, as stated in the Preamble to its Charter: “We the peoples of the United Nations determined to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war, which twice in our lifetime has brought untold sorrow to mankind…” But hope was not enough.
The Charter’s prescription for preventing violent conflict was a solid one. The states that joined the organization agreed, as an obligation of membership, to resolve their disputes peacefully and to refrain from the threat or use of force against one another.
The UN of today is staggering under the unparalleled expectation that it should be able to deal effectively with a multiplicity of extremely complex problems and that it should somehow be able to do so with resources that are woefully inadequate.
The prescription went beyond the peaceful settlement of disputes to address the root causes of conflict and create conditions for sustainable peace, pledging “to reaffirm our faith in fundamental human rights, in the dignity and worth of the human person, in the equal rights of men and women and of nations large and small, and to establish conditions under which justice and respect for the obligations arising from treaties and other sources of international law can be maintained, and to promote social progress and better standards of life in larger freedom…”
But before this hopeful blueprint could get off the drawing board, a new danger to global peace and security arose:
As the Charter was being negotiated and signed in San Francisco, the atomic bomb was being developed in Los Alamos, New Mexico, a thousand miles away… The first atomic bomb was exploded over Hiroshima on 6 August 1945, just forty-one days after the Charter was signed. By the time the United Nations was established on 24 October 1945, the world that it was to serve had changed in fundamental ways.
Indeed, for the next 45 years, the nuclear threat and the Cold War hung like a pall over the UN, greatly distorting the hopes invested in it by the world’s peoples.
When the Cold War suddenly ended, its legacy of abuse and neglect was not easily swept away. One superpower had bankrupted itself in the headlong race toward military superiority, and the other had spent vast resources developing expensive nuclear weapons.
Meanwhile, large segments of the world’s population lived in extreme poverty and were malnourished, unhealthy, and undereducated. The neglect of demographic and environmental problems led to a whole host of security threats, as underdevelopment, economic stagnation, and rising expectations generated conditions for protest, violence, and intrastate war. There were also new threats, as global warming; deforestation; desertification; degradation of air, soil and water; and loss of biodiversity endangered the health of the planet itself.
In the power vacuum following the Cold War, the UN was no longer sidelined but, instead, required to take center stage. In a short space of time, the expectations, demands, and responsibilities placed on the organization increased dramatically. An organization whose peacekeeping budget was no greater than the budgets of the New York City police and fire departments was asked to become the world’s police and fire department. At the same time, some who clamored for it to play this enhanced role continued to be late in payment of their dues or to withhold them altogether.
The UN of today is staggering under the unparalleled expectation that it should be able to deal effectively with a multiplicity of extremely complex problems and that it should somehow be able to do so with resources that are woefully inadequate.
Even so, over its 81 years, the UN has had many successes, exemplified by the 12 Nobel Peace Prizes awarded to various parts of the organization. Although detailing its work is well beyond the scope of this article, mentioning just a few achievements can provide some context.
At the time of the UN’s creation, almost one-third of the world’s population (750 million people) were under the yoke of colonial rule. Due to UN decolonization efforts, they are now citizens of 80 independent states and UN membership has grown from 51 to 193.
The UN operates at two levels. At the inter-governmental level, it offers venues (through the General Assembly and its committees, the Economic and Social Council and the Security Council) for member states to discuss international problems and take action, when possible. In a world dominated by Westphalian states, whose interests are not always aligned, multilateral decision-making is necessarily slow and cumbersome. But there are many instances where agreements have had far-reaching consequences. An example is the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and its covenants, as well as the many subsequent human rights instruments, including the establishment of mechanisms to monitor and assist their implementation.
Another example is the 2015 Sustainable Development goals and targets, including, “no poverty;” “zero hunger;” “good health and well-being;” “quality education;” “gender equality;” “clean water and sanitation;” “climate action;” “peace, justice, and strong institutions;” and nine others.
UN thematic conferences offer another opportunity for inter-governmental dialogue, with potentially constructive outcomes on issues such as climate change, HIV/AIDs, population and development, women and gender equality, racism, and others.
In a parallel process, the secretary-general, the Secretariat and its departments, as well as UN funds, programmes, and specialized agencies (i.e., the World Food Programme, the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, the United Nations Children’s Fund, the World Health Organization, and many others) fulfill their mandates and implement resolutions of the General Assembly or Security Council around the world.
Throughout the UN’s existence, efforts in preventive diplomacy, peacemaking, peacekeeping, post-conflict peacebuilding, and peace enforcement have prevented and resolved many crises and conflicts. Local UN disarmament initiatives have ensured that conflicts don’t reoccur and international efforts have contributed to nuclear non-proliferation, and to outlawing and monitoring of biological and chemical weapons. Humanitarian efforts have prevented or contained famines, refugee flows, and pandemics. Smallpox has been eradicated, and the end of polio is near. The number of people living in extreme poverty has been halved, access to schooling has massively increased, and maternal mortality slashed. The UN has also played a major role in advancing gender equality.
The International Court of Justice (also part of the UN) has helped create and strengthen international law by providing legally-binding judgments in a host of cases. Treaties, negotiated via the UN, have established new international law, such as the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, which provides a legal framework for marine and maritime activities.
The UN is also involved in many less recognized efforts, including improving agricultural productivity; codifying principles and techniques of international air navigation; labor issues; standardizing and regulating international telecommunications; protecting intellectual property; offering assistance on migration; promoting peaceful nuclear energy and inhibiting its military use; verifying adherence to the Chemical Weapons Convention; and many others.
But the UN’s most important achievement, as Secretary-General António Guterres has argued, is: “Eight decades later, one can draw a direct line between the creation of the United Nations and the prevention of a third world war.”
Even after the Cold War, states continue to pursue the flawed policy of deterrence and to equate military might with security, in spite of research that arms races increase the likelihood of war and evidence that military spending does not decrease conflict—as the most recent data from the world’s leading source of information on organized violence show.
In 2025, violent conflicts increased to 65, the highest since data collection began in 1946. While most were intrastate conflict, there is also a sharp increase in interstate conflict: “The first decade of the 2000s saw 8 interstate conflicts, while the 2010s saw 12. The 2020s have thus far seen 22.”
Fatalities also increased sharply in 2025 to the second highest since the Rwandan genocide in 1994. The war between Russia and Ukraine was the deadliest in the world for the third consecutive year.
The world’s global military expenditure also increased in 2025 for the 11th consecutive year—to an astonishing 2.9 trillion dollars. If similar increases continue, and NATO countries enlarge their expenditure to 5% as pledged, global military spending could reach 6.6 trillion by 2035—five times the level at the end of the Cold War.
Do we really want or need more weapons and more wars? Shouldn’t we, instead, choose cooperative security, collective security, and human security, as represented by the United Nations?
The current US military budget is a jaw-dropping $1 trillion, but the Trump administration is requesting a whopping increase to $1.5 trillion for 2027. Thus, if global military expenditure increases as predicted, the US $1.5 trillion (if approved) would account for nearly half of the entire world’s military expenditure.
Although the US government frames security threats from China and Russia as the main reason for its sky-high military budget, Russia’s military expenditure for 2025 was $190 billion, less than one-fifth of that of the US. China, the world’s second largest military spender, was $336 billion—about one-third of the US military budget.
As the secretary-general concludes, “Despite rising expenditures… global security has continued to deteriorate, calling into question the effectiveness of more military spending to enhance security.”
Do we really want or need more weapons and more wars? Shouldn’t we, instead, choose cooperative security, collective security, and human security, as represented by the United Nations?
Regrettably, we haven’t. Because of unpaid bills from 2025, in January 2026, Guterres sent a letter to member states warning of “imminent financial collapse” if dues were not paid on time. By February 8, the due date for membership contributions to the regular budget, only 55 countries had paid and, even now, neither the US nor China, the UN’s biggest contributors, have paid all of their dues. In July, the UN controller reported: “We don’t have enough cash beyond August. Unless its big donors step up, the UN will have to delay other payments to afford its High-Level Week of the General Assembly” (September 22-28 this year). To address last year’s shortfall, the UN’s regular budget was reduced by 15% in 2026 to 3.45 billion—making the world’s military expenditure 840 times that of the UN regular budget.
In a recent review of where the international order is headed, Brookings scholars conclude, “Whether the Trump administration moves aggressively enough to shatter what’s left of the multilateral order remains to be seen; there’s no evidence of what would replace it beyond unfettered American power.”
However, as A New Agenda for Peace notes: “War is always a choice… if war is a choice, peace can be too. It is time for a recommitment to peace.” It is also time to commit to revitalizing and reforming the United Nations to meet the needs of the future. As the UN secretary-general has stated, “Rebalancing global priorities... is an imperative for humanity to survive.”
Of course, this also depends on the informed participation of citizens and civil society (that means us), who must ensure that the public resources we give our governments to spend on our behalf are used in ways that bring us genuine security. We can’t let the world’s misguided leaders throw the United Nations off the cliff—and, while we’re at it, we must also ensure that we don’t sleepwalk into Armageddon.
The city’s FIFA World Cup experience raises questions about the costs and benefits of hosting.
The FIFA World Cup is over, but with the 2027 Super Bowl and 2028 Olympics on the horizon, Los Angeles’ mega-event spree is just beginning. Paul Krekorian, a former LA City councilmember and now head of the mayor’s Office of Major Events, has declared the World Cup a triumph for the city.
“Even some of the naysayers about the ’28 [Olympic] games,” he told The New York Times, “will have to look at the unmitigated success of the World Cup here in Los Angeles and say, 'OK, now I understand what you’ve been talking about, when you talk about the benefit of major events. Now I get how this is beneficial to Angelenos.'”
As one of those so-called “naysayers,” I disagree. LA’s World Cup experience reinforces concerns about the city’s ongoing efforts to bring one sports mega event after another to the region. Hosting major events always gobbles up public resources that could otherwise be directed toward pressing needs, while host cities under pressure to sparkle on camera often violate residents’ rights.
The people paid to organize these big events, like Krekorian, love to repeat myths about mega-event benefits while pooh-poohing questions about the costs. But saying, "No" to more mega events is saying, "Yes’ to a city that puts residents ahead of corporate sponsors. It’s saying, "Yes" to a city that puts long-term planning ahead of last-minute scrambling.
The host committee’s human rights listicle fails to acknowledge that mega events’ own massive security apparatuses often threaten residents’ rights and safety.
Bidding to host one major sports event after another is the explicit goal of the LA Sports and Entertainment Commission (LASEC), a little-known but influential organization that acts as the local host committee for both the FIFA World Cup and the Super Bowl.
As LA’s World Cup host committee, LASEC has refused to publish the host city contract with FIFA. That means Angelenos do not know who exactly is paying—and how much they’re paying—for the significant additional city and county-run security, transportation, and sanitation services that come with hosting. Refusing to disclose that information is shady business. What is LASEC hiding? (Probably at least the fact that taxpayers are footing a large bill.) If LASEC leaders show such little regard for basic transparency, why should residents allow them to continue shaping the region’s commitments?
Because World Cup hosts have a record of violating human rights as they prepare for and host the mega event, each 2026 host committee was supposed to develop a plan to proactively protect human rights. LA’s long-overdue “plan” turned out to be a list of existing laws and hotlines. Several local advocacy groups have concluded that human rights were an afterthought for LASEC.
The host committee’s human rights listicle fails to acknowledge that mega events’ own massive security apparatuses often threaten residents’ rights and safety. On the day of the first game in the US, for example, snipers in military fatigues sat on rooftops about a mile from the temporarily renamed “Los Angeles Stadium,” pointing rifles down in the direction of Black and Latino kids playing soccer at a street festival. Over LA’s eight game days, the area around the stadium was teeming with local, state, and federal police. Some prevented local residents from accessing their own homes; some hassled and ticketed street vendors; and others monitored the area’s extensive (and expanding) AI-powered surveillance systems, technology that has been denounced by privacy and human rights organizations. Before and during the World Cup, federal agents conducted multiple raids on a LA city park, one where homelessness and drug use are visible. The raids allegedly targeted drug trafficking networks but have had the effects of displacing vulnerable individuals and disrupting essential harm reduction services. It seems likely these spectacular policing operations were timed with the park’s World Cup watch parties in mind.
The militarization of relatively small urban areas for the World Cup offers us just a taste of the much larger, more invasive operations Angelenos can expect to see with the 2028 Olympics, as police forces try to “secure” more of the region. Unfortunately, like LASEC, LA28 is showing little appetite to take human rights seriously. Its own months-late “human rights strategy” suggests unsheltered Angelenos will be displaced from event areas, a recipe for trampling on human rights. The strategy does not mention Immigration and Customs Enforcement once, even though ICE will be a core part of Olympic security operations. While there were few reports of ICE around the Los Angeles Stadium for the World Cup, ICE arrests surged across LA and the nation while we consumed the beautiful game. ICE’s efforts will be more concentrated on LA for the Olympics.
Krekorian talks up the benefits of hosting major events. The meager “legacy” projects promoted by LA’s World Cup Host Committee—26 community grants, two volunteer days, and one soccer clinic—reflects a paradigm shift from past World Cup and Olympic host cities that promised large-scale urban transformation as legacy projects. While it’s good that LA leaders aren’t overpromising at the same scale and public expense, we’re now left with a new question: Without marquee legacy investments, what justifies the financial and social costs of hosting?
LASEC argues that mega events bring lasting economic benefits, but these claims have been consistently debunked by economists. The assertion that events generate a long-term tourism boost? There’s little evidence of that for already popular destinations like LA. The promise of a short-term bump in tourist spending? Mega events attract sports-loving tourists but actually deter other potential visitors. So while attendees spend a lot of money at stadiums and multinational hotels, other cultural attractions and businesses struggle during big events. Just ask the Louvre about the Paris 2024 Olympics. During this World Cup, much like for the 2022 Super Bowl, the owners and staff of several local businesses near the Los Angeles Stadium told me game days were bad for business, as their regular customers stayed away to avoid chaotic traffic.
Beyond one-off grants and volunteer days, LA’s World Cup “legacy” boils down to intangibles, like the moments of collective effervescence and the sense of witnessing history. These intangibles are why I love watching the World Cup. But they do not justify the costs of hosting.
LASEC is unwilling to be transparent with the public and uninterested in grappling seriously with human rights concerns. This World Cup has not demonstrated that mega events generate substantive benefits that warrant the immense expenditure of city and county resources. LA must put a stop to LASEC’s plans to continue diverting public resources to one mega event after another.
Will there be any tributes for the 567 Palestinian footballers reportedly killed in Gaza since October 2023?
The world has united for the 2026 FIFA World Cup. Stadiums have been filled with songs, flags, and the shared joy that football uniquely creates. Millions celebrate the beauty of a sport that claims to unite humanity across borders, languages, and politics.
But with the final game approaching, a question hangs heavily over the tournament: Will there be any tributes for the 567 Palestinian footballers reportedly killed in Gaza since October 2023?
The latest name on that list is Saleem Al-Ashqar, a Palestinian goalkeeper from Al-Qarara, near Khan Younis. He was 32 years old. According to reports, he was not on a battlefield. He was riding a motorcycle, searching for cooking gas. He had married only months earlier, in January 2026, and was waiting for the birth of his first child. Israeli forces shot and killed him.
In February 2022, following Russia's invasion of Ukraine, FIFA acted with remarkable speed. Within days, Russia was suspended from international competition and excluded from World Cup qualification. The decision came from widespread recognition that sport could not be separated from a major violation of international law and human suffering. FIFA described it as necessary to protect the integrity of football and to stand against violence.
When the final whistle blows at the 2026 World Cup, millions of people will celebrate the beauty of the game. They should also remember those who were denied the chance to keep playing it.
But if that principle applied to Russia, why does it not apply consistently elsewhere?
For nearly three years, international organizations, human rights groups, United Nations experts, and legal bodies have documented immense civilian suffering in Gaza. Tens of thousands of Palestinians have been killed. Homes, schools, hospitals, universities, and cultural institutions have been destroyed. The sporting sector has not been spared. Football fields have become rubble, sports facilities have been damaged and destroyed. Coaches, referees, administrators, and players have lost their lives. Despite all of this, the Israel Football Association remains a full FIFA member.
The consequences of this selectivity are devastating for Palestinian footballers. Their deaths rarely make international headlines. Their names are seldom known beyond their communities. The destruction of Gaza's sporting infrastructure receives little attention compared with transfer rumors, sponsorship deals, and tournament news.
Imagine a World Cup qualifying group in which half the players were dead. Imagine a national league where stadiums no longer exist. Imagine trying to explain to a child why their favorite goalkeeper will never play again because he was killed while searching for fuel to cook a meal.
Football is built on memory. Every World Cup honors the past as we remember legends who lifted trophies decades ago. Stadiums regularly hold moments of silence for victims of disasters, terrorism, and war. We place black armbands on captains’ sleeves because the sport understands that you cannot simply ignore loss.
Now that 567 footballers are gone, will we have a moment of silence? Will giant screens display their names? Will commentators mention that an entire generation of Palestinian players was cut down before it had the chance to compete? Or will the tournament proceed as though those lives never existed?
Tributes matter because they acknowledge humanity. They tell grieving families that the world saw their loved ones and that their deaths are not being erased.
If FIFA is unwilling to suspend the Israel Football Association, it should at the very least publicly recognize the Palestinian footballers who have been killed and commit to rebuilding the sporting infrastructure that has been destroyed. Their silence is a choice, and it speaks volumes.
When the final whistle blows at the 2026 World Cup, millions of people will celebrate the beauty of the game. They should also remember those who were denied the chance to keep playing it. The empty seats belong to them.
Americans need to be vigilant. The pretext for an invasion is being written in real time.
The federal indictment of Raúl Castro on decades-old charges is just the latest escalation in a long-running US campaign to justify invading Cuba.
The case against the 95-year-old former Cuban president — based on his alleged involvement in the downing of two planes in 1996 — comes in a year of intensified anti-Cuban policy that has steadily built since the beginning of President Donald Trump’s first term.
For many on the island, the Obama presidency had felt like a real turning point in US-Cuban relations.
“The Cuba of 2015, 2016, was quite different than the Cuba we are living in now,” Liz Oliva Fernández, a Cuban journalist at the US-based news outlet Belly of the Beast, tells In These Times and Foreign Policy in Focus. “For the first time in my life my friends weren’t thinking of leaving Cuba in order to have a better future.”
The Obama administration’s steps toward normalization, underscored by the restoration of diplomatic ties and an easing of the blockade between 2014 and 2016, didn’t last long though. The first Trump administration not only rolled back progress made under Obama, but actually tightened the sanctions regime even further.
Under Trump, Cuba was re-added to the State Sponsor of Terrorism list, which imposes penalties on other countries that trade with the island nation. US diplomatic personnel were pulled out of the US embassy in Cuba following baseless conspiracies about “Havana Syndrome.” And perhaps most damagingly, Trump lifted the suspension of Title III of the Helms Burton Act.
This last move opened the floodgates for Americans who had claims to property nationalized after the 1959 Cuban Revolution to sue companies for doing business on that property, hamstringing the economy even further.
“That scared a lot of people,” Oliva Fernández says.
The election of President Joe Biden did not change things, even though he had been a central player in the Obama White House. Biden’s feeble effort to remove Cuba from the list of state sponsors of terrorism — less than a week before Trump was re-inaugurated — is emblematic of an administration that did too little, too late.
“Biden didn’t do anything, he didn’t lift a finger,” Oliva Fernández says. “There was no difference between Trump and Biden policy on Cuba.”
Trump’s second term has taken America’s anti-Cuba policies even further.
In January, the administration declared the Cuban government posed an “unusual and extraordinary threat” to the United States. This designation, based on familiar yet baseless accusations of collusion with Russia, China, Hamas, and Hezbollah, has been devastating for the island because it created a secondary tariff system against any country selling or providing oil to Cuba.
In the six months since that executive order, only one tanker — the Russian ship Anatoly Kolodkin — has delivered fuel to Cuba. Over that period of time, the people of Cuba have dealt with rolling blackouts and a near collapse of the nation’s healthcare system.
In May, another executive order by President Trump imposed new sanctions targeting foreign individuals and businesses that engage with Cuba economically.
Then came the indictment against Raúl Castro, which Acting US Attorney General Todd Blanche implied could be enforced by the US military. That threat carries more weight after the illegal US capture of President Nicolás Maduro from Venezuela early this year. Maduro was indicted in 2020 — the final year of the first Trump administration — before the US bombed Venezuela and captured him in 2025, the first year of the second Trump administration.
“The decision to indict Raúl Castro is a pretext that’s prompting fears of a Venezuela-like scenario via leadership decapitation,” Oliva Fernández says.
On May 20, the same day the indictment was filed, the American aircraft carrier USS Nimitz was deployed to the Caribbean, increasing the possibility of coming military action.
Meanwhile, mainstream US media has been busy setting the stage for a potential military move against Cuba. In May, for example, Axios ran a report citing “classified intelligence” for a claim that the Cuban has been buying drones for a potential upcoming attack on America’s military base at Guantanamo Bay. Other recent stories in the Wall Street Journal and CBS News also raise the possibility of armed conflict.
The accusation of drone purchases for possible military action follows a familiar script of creating a pretext for military aggression. “It’s the same recipe they have been feeding the American people from Iraq to Libya to Afghanistan,” Oliva Fernández says.
In an interview on Democracy Now! last month, Princeton University historian Ada Ferrer said, “In terms of invading, Trump has been threatening that since January, since the Maduro operation…I have no doubt Trump would do that if he thought it would work.”
And while the Trump administration has accelerated this aggression toward Cuba, US foreign policy has been building toward this posture for decades. Since the overthrow of the US-allied Batista regime during the Cuban revolution of 1959, successive US presidential administrations have relentlessly tried to unseat the communist government. Beyond the economic embargo, the US has been behind multiple coup attempts such as the Bay of Pigs invasion and covertly supported government opposition figures.
In the face of the most recent aggression, some Americans — including some Cuban Americans — have been organizing to prevent an invasion. In February, for example, hundreds of activists mobilized under the banner of the Nuestra América Convoy to break the siege by flying to Cuba to deliver food, medicine, and solar panels to alleviate the effects of the oil embargo.
An invasion of Cuba would be a disaster for both the residents of the island and the American public. President Miguel Díaz-Canal has pledged that any incursion would be met with “a struggle.”
“We will defend ourselves, and if we need to die, we’ll die,” Díaz-Canal told NBC News. A military conflict would only worsen the existing energy and food crises on the island, and likely lead to casualties from the type of bombing campaign the US has recently deployed in Venezuela and Iran.
With working people already wracked by a high cost of living, the war in Iran, and a Pentagon budget that now tops $1 trillion, polls show over half of Americans would oppose military action against Cuba. The cost of opening yet another front in the US’s imperial wars would be borne by the public.
That’s why Americans need to be vigilant. The pretext for an invasion is being written in real time. We have the power to push back against these war-mongering narratives, denying public support for an invasion.
This article was jointly published by In These Times Magazine and Foreign Policy In Focus.