A U.S. president visited Cuba in 2016: why not in 2026?

In March 2016, something that had seemed impossible for decades occurred: a president of the United States set foot on Cuban soil. On March 20, 2016, Barack Obama visited Cuba, met with Raúl Castro, and walked through Havana, marking the beginning of the most significant thaw between the two countries since 1959. That moment marked a turning point. Embassies were reopened, travel restrictions were eased, cultural and economic exchanges increased, and many Cubans—both on the Island and abroad—felt for the first time in years that something could change.

It is worth recalling the context. In 2016, Cuba was not doing well, but it was much better than today. There were no massive and permanent blackouts, the scarcity was serious but not structural, migration had not reached historic figures, and the energy collapse had not yet marked daily life in the country. Still, the Cuban government accepted the political gesture: there was a hand extended, a historic photo, and a real opportunity for change.

That process, however, did not materialize. Beyond the subsequent changes in Washington, the truth is that the Cuban regime itself did not seize the moment. It did not pursue deep reforms, did not expand freedoms, and did not generate the necessary confidence for that rapprochement to become something lasting. The thaw was left incomplete, not only due to the political shift in the United States but also due to the inability of the power in Havana to adapt to a new reality.

Today, in 2026, just days away from the tenth anniversary of Obama's visit, Cuba is experiencing the worst crisis in its recent history. The economic, energy, and social situation is much more severe than it was a decade ago, and that is why the question arises with more urgency than ever: what prevents the start of a new negotiation process and another U.S. president from visiting Cuba? This is even more pressing considering that explicit signals have been sent from Washington. Donald Trump and Marco Rubio have openly discussed talks, agreements, and the need to break the deadlock in a relationship that has been stagnant for far too long.

Who dares to sit at the table when the country is bleeding economically and socially?

Here it is important to pause at a key point: this is not just a perception or an intuition. The data confirms it. A recent survey published by CiberCuba, with more than 1,800 participants, shows that 95% of Cubans are in favor of some type of negotiation with the United States. But the nuance is even more revealing. 77% support that negotiation only if it includes political changes and the release of prisoners, not just economic agreements. Another 18% believes that negotiations should take place immediately due to the severity of the crisis.

Only 3% would accept a negotiation limited solely to economic issues such as sanctions, trade, or energy, and the opposing positions against negotiating —due to sovereignty or in anticipation of a change in Washington— are minimal, practically nonexistent. The message is clear: Cubans do not reject dialogue; they demand it, but not at any cost. They seek urgent material solutions, yes, but also freedom, rights, and dignity. Ignoring this social consensus is no longer an ideological issue; it represents a profound disconnection from the real country.

Actors confronted in a much more violent manner have realized that speaking is not surrendering, but rather a way to avoid total collapse

The question becomes even more uncomfortable when viewed in the international context. If Ukraine and Russia, after brutal aggression and open war, have found spaces to sit down and negotiate; if Delcy Rodríguez has hosted the director of the CIA in Caracas, despite years of sanctions and direct confrontation with Washington, why does the Cuban regime refuse to even explore a genuine dialogue? If actors who are in much more violent conflict have understood that talking is not surrendering, but rather avoiding total collapse, what explains Havana's persistent refusal?

Who will do what the Cubans are crying out for?

Even Miguel Díaz-Canel, in his own official rhetoric, has publicly acknowledged the possibility of dialogue. “We will always be willing to engage in dialogue and improve relations between the two countries, but on equal terms and based on mutual respect,” he has stated. In other words, there are conditions, yes, but he talks about negotiating. Therefore, the question ceases to be abstract and becomes concrete: What does the Cuban government expect? Who will take the first real step within the power?  Who will dare to sit at the table when the country is bleeding economically and socially? Who will do what the Cubans are crying out for?

Because history is not written with slogans; it is written with decisions. And someone will inevitably be the one who takes the picture, who opens the door, the one who is associated with an attempt to escape. And someone else will be relegated, discarded by history, perhaps even marked as responsible for not having been able—or willing—to do what the country needed when there was no longer room to wait.