What do Cuba, Lebanon, and Iran have in common?
You'd think, not much. They are different countries, shaped by different histories, cultures, and political realities. But they are connected by one increasingly obvious pattern: Western activists who capitalize on these countries' crises under the pretense of "solidarity" and "support", while in practice, they care very little about the people's suffering.
Actions speak louder than words
Over the past week, social media has been flooded with outrage surrounding a group of influencers and activists from the West who traveled to Cuba to supposedly "stop the US blockade" and deliver humanitarian aid. Sound familiar?
Among the group were Rep. Ilhan Omar's daughter, streamer Hasan Piker, members of the controversial Irish hip-hop group Kneecap, and members of the activist group Code Pink.
The delegation took place against the backdrop of a deepening humanitarian crisis in the socialist state, which relies heavily on imported oil. Sanctions imposed by the US government at the end of January on the country – which has been mired in a severe economic crisis since the 1990s, following the collapse of the Soviet Union, on which it had heavily depended under the Soviet-backed Castro regime – were aimed at bringing about the regime's collapse and led to the country's third blackout in less than six months.
While there is no doubt that the US sanctions – including its threat to impose tariffs on countries that supply oil to Cuba – have worsened an already dire situation for the island's 10 million residents, this is hardly a new reality for citizens living under the current regime, which has been driving the country toward the abyss. But guess whom the activist delegation chose to blame: not the oppressive Cuban regime, but the American one.
Priding themselves with signs and shirts reading slogans against the US – again, nothing about the country's communist regime, who isloated the island and led to its collapse for years – with some draped in keffiyehs, the "humanitarian" group intitiated it's mission: with a perforamce by the Irish band, using valueable fuel civillians could have utilized for cooking, charging devices, or do laundry.
According to reporting in the Free Press, it remains unclear what aid was actually delivered and why the delivery even required a delegation, let alone one that stayed in a five-star hotel. Even more troubling, the organization the group partnered with to distribute the aid is reportedly linked to the Cuban regime — the same regime that crushes dissent, silences criticism, and drives many of its own citizens to flee.
"Lebanon is becoming Gaza"
It is the same with the Middle East. The same activist ecosystem that claims to stand with the oppressed has been eager to amplify narratives that fit its ideological preferences, while ignoring the voices of the people most directly affected. Regarding Lebanon, for example, Western voices continue to speak as if the country's story begins and ends with condemning Israel, which has now initiated a campaign in southern Lebanon, responding to Hezbollah's strikes alongside Iran. On X, the hashtag "Lebanon is becoming Gaza" is already being widely used.
But reality is far more complicated – and far less convenient. Lebanon itself has pushed back against Iranian influence on its soil, expelling the incoming Iranian ambassador, and Lebanese citizens have repeatedly made clear that they do not want their country held hostage by Hezbollah, Iran's proxy, or by the regional agenda Tehran seeks to impose.
So while the West rushes to blame Israel for nearly every instability in the region, many Lebanese themselves are openly rejecting the very forces that Western activists excuse, romanticize, or ignore. The gap between that rhetoric and lived reality is immense, making it particularly alarming when global leaders such as Spain's anti-Israel prime minister, Pedro Sánchez, amplifies the same detached messaging, probably for political gain.
Narcissism dressed up as politics
The same goes for Iranians. For years, Iranian civilians have risked everything to demand freedom and basic human rights. They have faced executions, violent crackdowns, internet shutdowns trying to mute them, systematic abuse of women, and horrific reports of sexual violence used as punishment. These are not isolated claims. They are part of a long and well-documented record of brutality by the Iranian regime. And yet, many of the same Western activists who insist they care about justice suddenly go against Iranian protesters, because their anti-regime messaging does not fit neatly into an anti-Israel or anti-American one.
The message couldn't be clearer: human rights matter only when they can be weaponized against the West or against Israel. Those calls for freedom are worth amplifying only when they serve a "popular" ideological script.
This is why so many people living under authoritarian regimes have grown cynical about Western activism. They see the double standards. They see the selective outrage. And they understand, often more clearly than anyone else, that much of what is presented as solidarity is really just narcissism dressed up as politics.
If activists truly cared about the people, they would listen to Cubans chanting "Libertad!" (freedom in Spanish), to Lebanese citizens resisting Hezbollah and Iranian intervention, and to Iranians risking their lives against the ayatollah regime. They would stop treating these societies as props in a Western moral drama.
Real solidarity is caring about people even when their reality complicates your politics. To make sure critical thinking protects you from being led like sheep, from being brainwashed. And most importantly: to learn to distinguish the performers – those who lend their support to whoever earns them applause, or who champion a cause simply because they were told it's the right one – from those who actually fight to change realities so far removed from the comfort of the West.
