Exports between the United States and Cuba are reaching new highs, even as Cuba’s government faces mounting scrutiny over the opaque management of its vast financial reserves. According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture and the Cuba-U.S. Economic and Trade Council, American exports of food and agricultural products to Cuba soared to $38.4 million in June 2025—a 10% jump from the $34.9 million recorded in June 2024, and higher than the $37 million seen in June 2023. This uptick is not just a blip. From January to June 2025, total sales topped $243.3 million, marking a 16.6% increase over the $210.6 million from the first half of the previous year.
Chicken meat stood out as the star export, accounting for nearly 54% of the June total, or $20.4 million. Pork ($3.2 million), powdered milk ($1.8 million), rice ($1.5 million), frozen prepared foods ($876,215), communion wafers ($776,301), and coffee ($699,273) also made the list of key exports. But it wasn’t just food making its way to the island. Used vehicles worth $12.15 million, motorcycles ($1.94 million), marble and travertine ($23,521), enzymes ($13,498), bicycles ($22,160), solar panels ($43,500), and wire processing machines ($12,000) were also shipped to Cuba.
All of these transactions operate within the legal framework of the Trade Sanctions Reform and Export Enhancement Act (TSREEA) of 2000 and the Cuban Democracy Act (CDA) of 1992. These laws allow for direct cash sales of food and agricultural products to Cuba, as well as other goods authorized by the Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC) and the Bureau of Industry and Security (BIS) of the U.S. Department of Commerce. Since the TSREEA came into effect in December 2001, Cuba has spent more than $7.885 billion on food imports from the United States.
Despite these substantial imports, the Cuban government continues to blame the U.S. embargo for the persistent shortages of basic goods on the island. Critics note that while the embargo does restrict many forms of trade, the legal exceptions have enabled millions of dollars’ worth of essential products to flow into Cuba each year. Still, the Cuban regime rarely acknowledges the actual volume of imports it receives under these exceptions, instead sticking to a narrative that paints the embargo as the root of all economic woes.
Meanwhile, a bombshell investigation by the Miami Herald has thrown a spotlight on the Cuban government’s management of its financial assets. On August 10, 2025, the Herald published leaked documents showing that GAESA—a military-run conglomerate officially known as Grupo de Administración Empresarial S.A.—controls more than $18 billion in liquid assets. To put that in perspective, this sum outstrips the international reserves of countries like Uruguay, Panama, and Costa Rica.
GAESA’s reach extends across much of Cuba’s economy, particularly in sectors like tourism and retail. But what’s most striking about the Herald’s revelations is the lack of transparency: these funds are reportedly beyond the reach of state auditors and remain under the tight control of the Revolutionary Armed Forces (FAR), rather than being used to address Cuba’s pressing public needs.
So how did the Cuban government respond to this exposé? With silence—at least officially. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MINREX), led by Bruno Rodríguez Parrilla, has not issued any public statement or appeared in state media to address the Herald’s claims. This silence is notable, especially given MINREX’s history of swiftly responding to international criticism, particularly regarding U.S. sanctions and the embargo.
The only reaction linked to the Foreign Ministry came in the form of a Facebook post by Rodney González Maestrey, Director of Legal Affairs and Analysis for the U.S. Division at MINREX. But rather than tackling the substance of the Herald’s findings, González Maestrey launched a personal attack against independent journalist Mario J. Pentón, who had highlighted the investigation. González Maestrey accused Pentón of being an “instrument of the Cuban-origin extreme right” and of legitimizing U.S. policies against Cuba—a move that shifted the conversation away from the $18 billion question entirely.
This kind of diversion is familiar to observers of Cuban official rhetoric. González Maestrey’s post leaned on two well-worn themes: blaming the U.S. embargo for Cuba’s economic hardships and defending military-controlled tourism as a vital income source. Instead of addressing the allegations, the message painted criticism as an attack on the nation’s interests and conflated structural critiques with personal or ideological vendettas.
Notably, González Maestrey’s post contained no explicit denial of the Miami Herald’s figures. There was no information provided about the source, use, or intended purpose of GAESA’s massive reserves. Nor did he clarify whether GAESA is required to contribute any portion of its assets to the national budget to help alleviate Cuba’s ongoing crisis. The absence of such details stands in stark contrast to the government’s usual readiness to respond to critical reports when it comes to topics where their propaganda machinery is well-prepared.
This calculated silence is, in itself, a kind of statement. By neither confirming nor denying the report, and instead steering public focus toward personal attacks and embargo narratives, Cuban officials are practicing a strategy of discourse control. The regime’s refusal to address the specifics of GAESA’s finances, even as living conditions for ordinary Cubans continue to deteriorate, underscores the opacity with which economic power is managed in the country.
For many Cubans, the juxtaposition is hard to ignore. On one hand, the government is making significant purchases from the United States—chicken, vehicles, even solar panels—thanks to legal exceptions in U.S. law. On the other, it is sitting on reserves that could, in theory, be mobilized to improve public welfare, yet remain locked away under military control.
The story of U.S.-Cuba trade and the mystery of GAESA’s billions are deeply intertwined. Both highlight the complexities and contradictions of Cuba’s economic reality in 2025: a nation that imports millions in food and goods from its longtime adversary, while its own government keeps vast sums hidden from public scrutiny. As the facts continue to emerge, one thing is clear—official silence is not the absence of a response, but a deliberate choice that speaks volumes about how power is wielded and protected in Cuba today.