By: Isuru Parakrama
January 06, World (LNW): Reports suggesting that the United States has captured Venezuela’s President Nicolás Maduro and his wife have spread rapidly in recent days, particularly across social media and partisan outlets. It is important to state that a full-blown invasion of Venezuela is highly plausible given the very public threats Donald Trump has made over the last couple of days, regardless of the United Nations’ blatant condemnation of the attack.
The speed with which this narrative has taken hold is revealing in itself. It speaks less to what has actually happened in Venezuela, and more to how decades of US interventionism in Latin America have trained the world to expect the dramatic, the coercive and the destabilising.
Given the context, a larger question naturally resurfaces–if Venezuela is again framed as a target, is Cuba next?
The Trump administration’s approach to Latin America, both during its time in office and in the political tradition it continues to influence, offers useful context. Trump did not invent Washington’s hardline posture towards left-leaning governments in the region, but he intensified it. Sanctions were expanded, diplomatic norms were weakened, and regime change was openly discussed rather than discreetly implied.
Venezuela was described as a “narco-state”, Cuba as a “failed communist experiment”, and Nicaragua as part of a renewed “troika of tyranny”. The language mattered. It shifted the debate from policy disagreement to moral crusade, where extraordinary actions could be framed as necessary.
Venezuela, with its oil reserves and long-running political crisis, became the most visible pressure point. The tightening of economic sanctions, and repeated hints that “all options are on the table” created an environment in which speculation about US-backed coups or direct intervention flourished. Even when such moves did not materialise, the damage was done. The idea that Washington might once again use force to reshape Latin American politics no longer sounded absurd to many observers.
Cuba occupies a different but symbolically potent place in this landscape. For nearly seventy years, it has been the ideological counterpoint to US power in the Western Hemisphere. The brief thaw under Barack Obama, marked by restored diplomatic ties and eased travel restrictions, suggested that history might finally loosen its grip. Trump reversed much of that progress. Sanctions were reimposed, remittances restricted, and Havana was returned to the US list of state sponsors of terrorism.
The message was unmistakable: Cuba was back in the crosshairs!
Does that mean Cuba is the next target in any military sense? A direct invasion remains unlikely. The geopolitical costs would be enormous, and the domestic appetite in the US for another foreign entanglement is limited. Yet “targeting” no longer needs to mean boots on the ground. Economic warfare, diplomatic isolation, cyber operations and support for internal dissent have become the preferred tools.
In this sense, Cuba has never really ceased to be a target; the intensity simply fluctuates with political winds in Washington.
What links Venezuela and Cuba is not just ideology, but symbolism. Both are used within US domestic politics as cautionary tales, shorthand for the alleged dangers of socialism. For hardline politicians, being tough on Havana or Caracas plays well with certain voter bases, particularly in Florida. Foreign policy becomes an extension of electoral strategy, and nuance is sacrificed for soundbites.
There is also a deeper strategic anxiety at work. As US influence in Latin America competes with growing Chinese and Russian engagement, pressure on longstanding adversaries serves as a signal. It tells allies that Washington still asserts primacy in its “backyard”, and warns rivals against overreach. Cuba, with its historic ties to both Moscow and, increasingly, Beijing, fits neatly into this logic.
Ultimately, the question is not whether Cuba will suddenly face an invasion, but whether it will continue to be treated as a permanent enemy in need of containment rather than a neighbour with whom coexistence is possible. The dramatic actions in Venezuela thrive because they resonate with a long memory of intervention. Until US policy decisively breaks from that legacy, Havana will remain nervously relevant whenever Washington rattles its sabre elsewhere.
In that sense, the real danger lies less in what the US might do next, and more in how easily the world believes it might.
