Prior to President Donald Trump’s inauguration and reconfiguration of immigration rules, the lines at José Martí International Airport in Havana for flights to Managua scrolled through the terminal. Cubans explained that Nicaragua was one of the few countries for which they needed no visas. Buses would await them outside the airport and drive them directly to the U.S.-Mexican border. The moment they stepped foot on U.S. soil, they could claim asylum and, just one year later, receive permanent residency. Many had family members already in the United States and, even if they spoke no English, life in southern Florida would be far easier than inside Cuba itself. Perhaps 10 percent of the country fled over the two years before Trump’s return to office, a number equivalent to more than half the population of Havana.
Cuba’s population is again in free fall, and the regime appears on the verge of collapse.
With electricity failing and food scarce, Cuba’s population is again in free fall, and the regime appears on the verge of collapse. Cuba would hardly be the first long-isolated regime to fall. Saddam Hussein’s Iraq did in 2003. Libya did in 2011, and Syria did just over a year ago. Seldom, however, are these met with a rush of investment. Syria came closest, but the recent assassination attempt against Ahmed al-Sharaa, coupled with fighting in Aleppo and unrest in Suwayda, will sidetrack most plans.
Cuba is different. To enter Havana is to step back in time. Fords and Chryslers from the 1940s and 1950s drive the streets. The few high-rises there are date to the 1950s, except for La Torre López-Callejas, which sits unopened after years of delays. Hotels and nightclubs like the Tropicana and Nacional where Frank Sinatra, Lucky Luciano, Frank Costello, Marlon Brando, Marilyn Monroe, Rita Hayworth, Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Errol Flynn, and John F. Kennedy rubbed elbows dot the skyline, their paint peeling, hardwood floors worn, rugs faded, and plaster crumbling.
When that collapse does come, there may be a free-for-all. On January 11, 2026, Trump joked that Secretary of State Marco Rubio could become the next president of Cuba. Certainly, Trump and his family members might salivate at the opportunity to build billion-dollar megaprojects among prime Caribbean real estate. Development for its own sake, however, could destroy Cuba’s unique culture and what sets it apart aesthetically from the rest of the Caribbean.
When the Communists flee Cuba, the United States, Cubans, and friends of Cuba’s heritage should seek the guidance of the Sultanate of Oman to establish the balance between development and the preservation of cultural heritage. It is not as random as it sounds.
The Sultanate of Oman long has been a hidden jewel of the Middle East. Europeans may visit, but relatively few Americans do. It is a land of stark natural beauty but also ancient castles and forts. Rather than run roughshod over its heritage the way Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, and the United Arab Emirates long ago did, Oman preserved it. Old did not signify bad. Rather than bulldoze the buildings along its corniche, Muscat preserved them, giving older sections like Mutrah a quaint, small-town feel where the fish market appears today much like it did thirty years ago.
Oman can punch above its weight in cultural heritage preservation.
The names of ships carved by Portuguese and British sailors dating back 400 years still dot the mountains that form the capital city’s natural harbors. The late Sultan Qaboos was not isolationist like his father, but carefully managed investment strategy to maintain Oman’s unique character. He discouraged backpackers, but welcome high-end tourists whose contributions could build a real industry.
Sultan Haitham has taken what Qaboos began and jump-started it. While Qaboos kept old forts in the hands of the military, Haitham renovates them and turns them into tourist attractions. Tourists might see more castles on a week’s tour of Oman than of England. Oman has also cultivated its environment, be it the desert fjords of Musandam, its dramatic canyons, wildlife preserves, or monsoon-fed greenery at Salalah.
As Bahrain has sought to make a name for itself as a banking hub, the United Arab Emirates embraces AI, and Qatar prides itself on its mediation, Oman can punch above its weight in cultural heritage preservation. Should it export the expertise it has garnered over decades to a post-Communist Cuba, it could demonstrate an alternative to both the cookie-cutter approach and the ostentatious and gaudy styles that characterize so many Trump properties, casinos, and other Caribbean investments. By keeping Cuba unique, Oman could help Cubans achieve the soft-landing they so desperately deserve.
