Iran, Venezuela, and Cuba: How the regime uses war as propaganda to survive

While the United States bombs positions in Iran as part of the so-called “Epic Fury Operation” and consolidates its influence in post-Maduro Venezuela following the capture of the chavista leader in January, Cuba is experiencing one of the worst crises in its recent history.

Daily power outages for hours, persistent shortages, and a plummeting economy define daily life on the island. However, that is not the focus of the narrative in the state-controlled media under the Communist Party.

The focus is elsewhere: on "imperial aggression," on "violation of international law," on "danger to world peace."

The Cuban coverage of the war in Iran is not merely ideological. It is functional. It is part of a broader strategy: to turn geopolitics into a resource for maintaining power. It is not information: it is framing.

Cuban state media are not portraying the war as a complex conflict involving various actors with different responsibilities. They are establishing a narrative from the outset: the United States and Israel as aggressors; Iran as the attacked nation.

The language is repetitive and seamless: “aggression”, “illegality”, “global threat”. There are no gray areas. And there aren't any because they are not sought. The official press does not describe reality: it organizes it according to a political need.

That framing serves several purposes within Cuba.

First of all, shift the focus. Instead of a structural crisis of the economic model, what is projected is a country subjected to a hostile international environment.

The scarcity and blackouts cease to be a direct consequence of internal decisions and are instead interpreted as a result of an adverse global scenario.

In second place, build a siege mentality. If the United States emerges as an aggressive actor in the Middle East, Latin America, and other contexts, the pressure on Cuba ceases to be exceptional and becomes part of an "imperialist" pattern.

And thirdly, it deliberately delegitimizes Washington's policies. If the U.S. violates international law in Iran, its pressure on Cuba can be seen as another manifestation of that same behavior.

The result is a coherent and useful narrative: reduces the internal responsibility of the regime, strengthens cohesion, and prepares the population for a prolonged crisis.

But this discourse does not arise in a vacuum. It responds to a very specific geopolitical moment. The United States is not operating on a single front, and its actions aim to weaken its major adversaries: Russia, China, Iran, and their proxies.

In Iran, it maintains an open war with global implications. In Venezuela, it has shifted from pressure to direct intervention and is now managing a process of political transition and economic reconfiguration. And in Cuba, it upholds a strategy of intense pressure, particularly in the energy sector.

This does not mean that Washington is distracted. It means that it is deployed. And that nuance is key to understanding Havana's calculations.

For the Cuban regime, Venezuela is at once a warning and an opportunity. The fall of Maduro meant the loss of its main external support for decades, but it also left a more troubling lesson: The United States has shown that it can escalate, intervene, and reshape the political balance of an allied country.

That precedent carries weight. But at the same time, managing the Venezuelan situation requires resources, political attention, and strategic capital. It is not an immediate or simple process.

And here appears the other reading: while Washington engages on several simultaneous fronts, pressure on Cuba may become less sustained, more irregular, or more negotiable.

That is the margin to which the regime aspires. Because its objective is not to conquer, but to resist, to buy time. It does not need to defeat the United States, but to survive longer than its peak pressure phase —bounded by the times of its democracy— something in which the regime has ample experience.

But this reading contains a fundamental contradiction: the very scenario that suggests the United States is overstretched also demonstrates that it can act vigorously on multiple fronts simultaneously. And therein lies the problem for Havana.

The current U.S. administration has not only raised the tone: it has demonstrated actual execution capability. The intervention in Venezuela and the offensive in Iran are not isolated episodes, but rather part of a coherent strategic logic. It is not just rhetoric. It is practice.

This is compounded by a key variable: the political calendar. The midterm elections in November could disrupt the internal balance in Washington. But until then, the incentive is clear: show results, project strength, and reinforce a hardline stance in foreign policy.

For the Cuban regime, the conclusion is uncomfortable. The same context that opens a window to buy time also confirms that it faces an opponent with the ability and willingness to escalate.

Cuba is not facing a distracted rival, but one that has proven it can operate on multiple fronts simultaneously.

In that scenario, the official media narrative takes on full meaning. By portraying the United States as a global aggressor and emphasizing the human and political costs of its actions, the regime's communication apparatus not only informs: it organizes the perception of reality according to its own survival.

It is not a complement to power. It is a defense mechanism.

Because, ultimately, the Cuban regime not only faces a deep economic crisis or increasing external pressure. It confronts something more decisive: the need for that reality to be interpreted in a way that allows it to continue governing.

And in that battle, propaganda is not optional. It is a condition of survival.