When Washington publicly invites Cubans to work with the CIA to bring about political change, it exposes a contradiction at the heart of US foreign policy: the language of democracy and freedom can coexist with a long history of covert intervention in other countries’ political affairs.
The United States has spent decades presenting itself as a defender of democracy, political freedom and the right of people to choose their leaders. Yet its history of intervention abroad reveals a persistent contradiction: Washington has repeatedly supported efforts to remove governments it considers hostile, sometimes through covert operations designed to conceal the extent of its involvement.
That contradiction is once again at the centre of the debate over Cuba.
On October 23, 2026, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio publicly urged Cubans seeking political change to seize what he described as an opportunity to work with the Central Intelligence Agency. His message referred to failed promises, corruption and the privileged lives of a small elite, presenting cooperation with US intelligence as a possible route to change.
The CIA subsequently published a Spanish-language video explaining how people could provide information to the agency.
This was not merely another statement criticising the Cuban government. It was an unusually direct public appeal from America's top diplomat for people inside another country to establish a discreet relationship with its intelligence service. The development was reported by Al Jazeera, Reuters and other international media outlets.
The distinction matters. Criticising a foreign government is ordinary diplomacy. Encouraging its citizens to collaborate with a foreign intelligence agency introduces a different dimension to the relationship, particularly when senior US officials are simultaneously discussing the possibility of more aggressive action against the country.
For observers across Africa, where foreign intervention and external influence have shaped political outcomes for generations, the episode raises an uncomfortable question: why are some discussions of foreign interference treated as legitimate geopolitical analysis, while others are dismissed as conspiracy theories before the evidence is examined?
The United States has a documented history of trying to overthrow Cuba's government
Understanding the present requires examining the past.
After Fidel Castro's revolution overthrew the government of Fulgencio Batista in 1959, relations between Cuba and the United States deteriorated rapidly. The Cuban government nationalised US-owned economic assets and developed closer relations with the Soviet Union during the Cold War.
Washington viewed the development as a strategic threat in a region it had long regarded as central to its national security.
The response included economic pressure, covert intelligence operations and support for efforts to remove Castro from power.
In April 1961, a CIA-organised force of Cuban exiles invaded Cuba at the Bay of Pigs. The operation failed within days, strengthening Castro's government rather than overthrowing it.
The episode is not an allegation made by Cuba's government or an interpretation invented by its supporters. The US Department of State's historical record documents the planning and execution of the invasion, including the CIA's role in training and funding the invading force.
Washington subsequently launched Operation Mongoose, a covert programme intended to undermine and ultimately remove the Cuban government. Declassified US government documents describe plans involving political pressure, propaganda, sabotage and intelligence operations.
These records establish an important historical fact: the objective of overthrowing Cuba's government was not merely an accusation made by Havana. It was an explicit objective of documented US policy during the early 1960s.
The contemporary political context is different, and the existence of those historical operations does not prove that every present-day American initiative is part of an identical plan. But it makes it reasonable to scrutinise new calls for intelligence cooperation against the background of that record.
History should neither be ignored nor used as a substitute for evidence about current events.
When regime change is discussed openly
Rubio's message is striking because it brings the language of intelligence recruitment into a public political conversation.
Intelligence agencies routinely seek information from people who have access to sensitive information or knowledge of events relevant to national security. Such recruitment is not unique to the United States. Governments around the world operate intelligence services, cultivate sources and attempt to understand the internal workings of other states.
The issue here is the political context in which the appeal was made.
Rubio did not simply invite Cubans to participate in public debate, organise a peaceful opposition party or advocate constitutional reform. He explicitly referred to a partnership with the CIA. The agency's subsequent video provided instructions for submitting information.
That is a materially different proposition from supporting civil society or defending freedom of expression.
A person who provides intelligence to a foreign government may face serious legal, personal and political consequences, depending on the nature of the information, the country's laws and the circumstances of the relationship. The risks can be especially severe in states where intelligence cooperation is treated as a national-security offence.
It is therefore misleading to treat an intelligence recruitment appeal as though it were simply an ordinary invitation to democratic participation.
The American government may frame the initiative as an opportunity for Cubans dissatisfied with their leaders. Cuban authorities may describe it as interference in their sovereignty. Both the stated US objective and the potential consequences for Cubans who respond deserve scrutiny.
The essential question is whether Washington is supporting Cubans' freedom to determine their political future or attempting to shape that future through an intelligence relationship serving American strategic interests.
Those objectives are not necessarily identical.
The language of corruption and freedom can serve geopolitical purposes
Rubio's appeal focused on three themes: broken promises, corruption and the privileges enjoyed by a small elite.
These are familiar criticisms of governments across the world. They may describe genuine public grievances, and citizens have every right to demand accountability from their leaders.
Cuba faces serious economic difficulties, including shortages, blackouts and pressure on household living standards. Its government has also faced longstanding criticism over political restrictions, limits on opposition activity and the concentration of political power.
Acknowledging those problems does not require accepting Washington's proposed solution.
A foreign government can accurately identify corruption or economic hardship in another country while pursuing an intervention that serves its own strategic objectives. The existence of domestic grievances does not automatically legitimise foreign intelligence operations, economic coercion or externally directed regime change.
Nor does opposition to US intervention require defending every action of the Cuban government.
This distinction is crucial. Cuban citizens should be able to criticise their government, organise politically and debate their country's future without being treated as instruments of a foreign power. At the same time, the United States should not assume that its strategic preferences represent the wishes of Cuba's population.
Political change imposed or heavily engineered from abroad can create a different set of dependencies, even when it begins with legitimate grievances.
The central issue is not whether Cuba's government deserves criticism. It is who should determine the country's political future and through what means.
The African connection: why the question of foreign interference matters
For African societies, the Cuban controversy has implications that extend beyond the Caribbean.
The continent's modern political history includes colonial rule, Cold War proxy conflicts, foreign-backed political interventions and competition among external powers for access to strategic resources and geopolitical influence.
These histories differ considerably by country. They should not be reduced to a single explanation for every coup, leadership change or political crisis. African political actors have their own interests, agency and responsibilities, and domestic conflicts cannot all be explained by foreign manipulation.
Nevertheless, foreign intervention in African politics is not an imaginary phenomenon.
During the Cold War, outside powers supported rival governments, political movements and armed groups across the continent. In some cases, declassified records have documented covert involvement in political struggles. In others, the extent of foreign influence remains disputed or incompletely established.
The lesson is not that every African government is a puppet or that every domestic political crisis has been orchestrated overseas. Such blanket claims would obscure the evidence rather than clarify it.
The more defensible argument is that foreign governments have repeatedly attempted to influence political outcomes abroad, and African countries have experienced some of the consequences.
This history makes it reasonable to ask hard questions when an external power publicly encourages citizens of another state to cooperate with its intelligence service while also applying economic and diplomatic pressure.
Those questions should be asked consistently, regardless of whether the country involved is Cuba, Nigeria, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Sudan or another state.
If evidence of foreign interference is available, it should be examined. If the claim is unsupported, it should not be accepted simply because it fits a preferred political narrative.
The same standard must apply to powerful Western governments and to rival powers such as Russia and China.
Why allegations of foreign interference are often dismissed too quickly
Debates about foreign influence can become polarised. Some commentators interpret nearly every political crisis as evidence of an external conspiracy. Others dismiss the possibility of covert interference because it challenges their assumptions about the international order.
Neither approach is adequate.
Conspiracy theories often begin with an allegation that powerful actors are secretly coordinating events. They become persuasive to some audiences when they draw on real historical abuses, but historical precedent alone cannot establish the truth of a new allegation.
At the same time, describing every concern about foreign interference as a conspiracy theory is equally unhelpful. Governments have conducted covert operations, intelligence services recruit foreign sources, and international powers sometimes use political, financial and economic pressure to pursue strategic objectives.
The responsible approach is to distinguish documented facts from inference.
In Cuba's case, the historical record establishes that Washington previously pursued covert efforts to overthrow the government. The recent public appeal by Rubio establishes that a senior US official is now openly encouraging Cubans to establish a discreet relationship with the CIA. The agency's subsequent video reinforces the seriousness of the appeal.
Those facts support a legitimate debate about intervention, sovereignty and the relationship between intelligence cooperation and regime change.
They do not, by themselves, prove that every political opposition movement in Cuba is foreign-controlled or that every government in Africa is directed from Washington.
Precision strengthens the argument. Overstatement makes it easier to dismiss.
Sovereignty must mean more than the right of governments to remain in power
There is an important distinction between defending a country's sovereignty and defending its ruling elite.
A government does not become democratic simply because it resists the United States. Nor does a foreign power become a legitimate guardian of democracy merely because it criticises an authoritarian government.
Sovereignty is ultimately about a country's ability to determine its political and economic direction without coercion from outside powers. It should protect the population's right to shape its future, not provide an unlimited licence for domestic leaders to suppress criticism.
That means two principles must be defended simultaneously.
First, Cubans should have the freedom to debate their political system, challenge corruption, demand accountable institutions and pursue peaceful change. Their grievances should not be dismissed because Washington has chosen to exploit similar complaints for strategic purposes.
Second, the existence of domestic grievances should not be treated as a blank cheque for a foreign intelligence agency to shape political outcomes. A government that opposes an external power retains the right to national sovereignty, just as its citizens retain the right to criticise it.
This is not a contradiction. It is the basis of a consistent position on self-determination.
The same principle applies to African countries. Citizens should be able to challenge corruption, demand credible elections and oppose abusive governments without automatically being labelled foreign agents. But external powers should not use those legitimate aspirations as a cover for imposing their own preferred political arrangements.
The measure of genuine democratic solidarity is whether it strengthens the ability of people to determine their own future, not merely whether it produces a government more agreeable to Washington.
The danger of replacing one dependency with another
Political transitions can produce meaningful reform, but externally driven regime change can also create instability, institutional weakness and new forms of dependence.
The outcome depends on a country's circumstances, the strength of its institutions, the participation of its population and the decisions made by domestic political actors. There is no universal outcome for every intervention.
Still, the record of foreign-engineered political transitions offers ample reason for caution. Removing a government does not automatically create a functioning state, independent institutions, economic prosperity or a political settlement accepted by the population.
The interests of an intervening power may also diverge from those of the people whose government it seeks to change.
A foreign government may prioritise military access, regional influence, strategic resources, commercial opportunities or the weakening of a rival. Local citizens may prioritise employment, affordable food, public services, political freedom and peace.
Those interests can overlap, but they should not be assumed to be identical.
For Cuba, the critical question is therefore not simply whether its existing government has failed to meet public expectations. It is whether the methods being promoted by external actors would give Cubans greater control over their future or place another country's strategic interests at the centre of the transition.
That question deserves serious consideration before any foreign intervention is celebrated as liberation.
What the United States should be prepared to explain
If Washington argues that its Cuba policy is intended to advance democracy, it should be prepared to explain how its actions support the political agency of ordinary Cubans rather than substitute American strategic priorities for their own.
That requires more than statements about corruption or the failures of the Cuban economic system.
It requires transparency about the objectives of US policy, clarity about the relationship between economic pressure and political change, and serious consideration of the humanitarian consequences of measures that affect the wider population.
The United States should also be willing to distinguish peaceful political engagement from intelligence operations and other coercive measures. These are different instruments, with different implications for sovereignty, accountability and the safety of those involved.
The same standard should apply to every major power that claims to promote democracy abroad.
A consistent international principle cannot permit Washington to treat covert political interference as illegitimate when its rivals engage in it but acceptable when the United States pursues its own objectives.
Nor should criticism of American policy prevent scrutiny of abuses committed by other governments.
Accountability cannot depend on the identity of the country being criticised.
The question Africa should ask
The significance of Rubio's appeal extends beyond Cuba because it illustrates how openly a powerful state can connect its diplomatic pressure with an invitation to cooperate with its intelligence service.
For African audiences, the appropriate response is neither automatic acceptance of every allegation about Western interference nor automatic rejection of concerns that challenge the preferred international narrative.
It is a demand for evidence, consistency and accountability.
When a foreign power pressures another country, the public should ask what objectives are being pursued, what methods are being used, whose interests are served and what consequences may follow for the local population. When evidence of covert activity emerges, it should be examined carefully. When claims go beyond the available evidence, they should be challenged.
African governments also have responsibilities. Weak institutions, corruption, exclusion and unaccountable leadership can create openings for external influence. Strengthening public accountability, economic resilience and democratic institutions makes countries better equipped to resist coercion without silencing their own citizens.
The answer to foreign interference cannot be to prohibit criticism at home. It must be to build political systems in which citizens have meaningful reasons to trust their institutions and peaceful ways to change them.
Conclusion: political change should belong to the people who live with its consequences
The United States has a documented history of covert efforts to overthrow Cuba's government. Marco Rubio's public appeal for Cubans to work discreetly with the CIA brings that history into an unusually direct contemporary confrontation.
The episode does not prove that every accusation of foreign interference is true, nor does it excuse Cuba's government from accountability for its own record. It does, however, demonstrate why the language of democracy must be examined alongside the methods used to pursue it.
A country cannot credibly claim to respect another nation's self-determination while treating that nation's political future as an object to be engineered from outside without inviting difficult questions about sovereignty and power.
For Africa, the lesson is not that every leader is a puppet or that every political crisis is a foreign plot. The lesson is that external interference is a legitimate subject of investigation, not a claim that should be dismissed or accepted without evidence.
The most important principle is simple: Cubans should be able to decide Cuba's future, just as Africans should be able to determine Africa's political direction. Neither domestic elites nor foreign powers should be permitted to substitute their own interests for the rights and aspirations
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