On the bustling streets of Miami and in the stately halls of Havana, the legacy of Cuba has never felt more present—or more contested. In the span of just a few days in late November 2025, the island’s influence was on display in Miami’s vibrant cocktail culture, in the political controversies swirling around exiled fugitives, and in the international spotlight cast by a high-profile United Nations visit to Cuba. Each episode reveals a different facet of Cuba’s enduring role as both cultural touchstone and political battleground, shaping narratives far beyond its shores.
Miami’s cocktail renaissance is, by all accounts, inseparable from the city’s Cuban roots. According to Azat TV, bars like Café La Trova in Little Havana offer more than just drinks—they provide an immersive experience where the rhythms of trova music and the aromas of Cuban coffee create a sense of home for many. Mixologist Giovanny Gutierrez, a leading voice in Miami’s bar scene, told BBC Travel that Cuban ingredients such as rum, guava, passion fruit, and soursop are now staples behind the bar. “We’re more elevated, more cosmopolitan. We’re playing at a national level,” Gutierrez explained, highlighting how the city has moved beyond the clichéd daiquiris and piña coladas of the past.
At Café La Trova, visitors are greeted by uniformed cantineros and serenaded by live Latin music, with cocktails like the Mojito and the Presidente—an elegant rum martini that showcases Cuban-style rum—taking center stage. The city’s innovation doesn’t stop there. At Amelia’s 1931, a laundromat-turned-bar, Cuban-Miami accents blend with Latin-Asian fusion, while Bar Kaiju pushes boundaries with drinks like the Güije, which infuses rum with Cuban mojo criollo marinade. Even newcomers such as ViceVersa, launched in 2024 at the Elser Hotel, blend international influences with unmistakable Cuban undertones. It’s a scene that, as Gutierrez puts it, “has a drink for any occasion, for anybody, for any kind of theme.”
Yet, while Miami’s bars celebrate Cuba’s cultural bounty, the island’s political legacy casts a longer, more divisive shadow. The death of Assata Shakur—also known as Joanne Chesimard—in Havana brought Cuba’s role as a sanctuary for American fugitives back into the spotlight. Shakur, convicted for the 1973 killing of a New Jersey State Trooper, fled to Cuba decades ago, remaining one of the FBI’s most wanted fugitives until her death. Her passing prompted Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson to praise her as “an important person in the black liberation movement who has repeatedly claimed her innocence,” according to AOL News. The reaction was swift and polarized: FBI Director Kash Patel condemned those mourning Shakur, declaring that honoring her memory “is spitting on the badge and the blood of every cop who gave their life in service.”
This controversy, reignited by recent attacks on ICE facilities in Texas and Illinois, reflects the deep divisions over law enforcement, political activism, and Cuba’s longstanding willingness to shelter individuals wanted by U.S. authorities. For many Cuban-Americans in Miami, the flavors and music they cherish are inseparable from the political choices that continue to spark debate across the country.
Meanwhile, in Havana, another drama was unfolding—this time on the international stage. On November 22, 2025, Cuban President Miguel Díaz-Canel welcomed Alena Douhan, the United Nations Special Rapporteur on unilateral coercive measures, at the Palace of the Revolution. The meeting, broadcast on state television, was carefully orchestrated to reinforce Havana’s narrative: that the island’s hardships stem almost entirely from the U.S. embargo and its inclusion on the State Sponsors of Terrorism list.
Díaz-Canel did not mince words, labeling the embargo a “genocidal” policy that was intensified during Donald Trump’s first term (2017–2021) and reinforced with Trump’s return to the White House. He cited Cuba’s re-addition to the terrorism list as a key reason for tightening economic measures, asserting that “the lives of all Cubans” are affected. The president assured Douhan that Cuba is “fully willing” to cooperate with the UN’s human rights mechanisms, though critics note that the country has long restricted international scrutiny of its civil liberties and political pluralism.
Douhan, for her part, echoed much of the Cuban government’s economic script in her public statements. She acknowledged that U.S. sanctions have “exacerbated” Cuba’s humanitarian crisis, impacting food supplies, household incomes, and the state’s ability to maintain infrastructure. She also criticized Cuba’s designation as a state sponsor of terrorism, calling it contrary to international law and urging an end to “sanctions rhetoric” as a political tool. Her comments, however, drew sharp criticism from activists and independent organizations, who argued that her visit ignored the realities of censorship, repression, and the lack of basic rights for millions of Cubans.
According to Havana Times, Douhan’s itinerary included only selected institutions, with no meetings with activists or independent civil-society groups, and certainly no visits to political prisoners. During the same week, the Cuban regime blocked foreign-currency accounts of all foreign companies and diplomatic missions, preventing them from withdrawing or transferring funds abroad—a move that rattled foreign investors and diplomats alike. The Cuban Foreign Ministry notified the diplomatic corps in Havana of similar restrictions on November 19, 2025. Despite these developments, Douhan’s final report to the Human Rights Council, expected in September 2026, is not anticipated to bring major changes.
The Cuban government’s use of Douhan’s visit as a propaganda tool was not lost on observers. While officials showcased the rapporteur as validation of their victim narrative, millions of Cubans continued to endure blackouts, shortages, and a health crisis—realities that, as Havana Times pointed out, were largely absent from official discourse. Critics argue that while the embargo has undoubtedly worsened conditions, the government’s own policies—marked by inefficiency, authoritarianism, and systemic corruption—bear significant responsibility for the country’s woes. Social media comments from Cubans inside and outside the island reflect growing frustration, with many pointing to an “internal blockade” of bureaucratic obstacles, political controls, and privileges for the elite as the true source of their hardships.
In the end, the stories unfolding in Miami and Havana are two sides of the same coin. The celebration of Cuban culture in Miami’s bars is a testament to the power of migration and cultural exchange, while the political controversies—both in the streets and on the world stage—remind us of the unresolved tensions that continue to define Cuba’s place in the world. Whether in a glass of rum or a televised meeting at the Palace of the Revolution, the island’s legacy remains as complex and contested as ever.
As the dust settles on another week of headlines, one thing is clear: Cuba’s story is far from over, and its echoes will continue to shape conversations on both sides of the Florida Straits.
