A new US law has revived a decades-old dispute over one of the spirits industry's most contentious trademarks, with Cuba denouncing the legislation as "theft" and a fresh attack on its intellectual property rights.
The "No Stolen Trademarks Honored in America Act", signed by President Joe Biden on December 1, effectively cements Bermuda-based Bacardi's position as the sole purveyor of Havana Club rum in the American market. The legislation blocks US courts from recognising trademarks seized by the Cuban government following the 1959 revolution, marking the latest twist in a corporate and diplomatic struggle that has spanned more than 60 years.
The dispute's origins trace back to pre-revolutionary Cuba, where Havana Club was originally produced by José Arechabala SA, a rival to the Bacardi family's growing rum empire. The brand's trajectory changed dramatically in 1960 when Fidel Castro's government nationalised the Arechabala family's assets, including the Havana Club distillery and trademark.
Both the Bacardis and Arechabalas fled communist Cuba, leaving behind their distilleries. The story might have ended there, but for a crucial development in 1973 when the Arechabala family allowed their US trademark for Havana Club to lapse. Cuba's state-owned Cubaexport seized the opportunity, registering the trademark with the US Patent and Trademark Office in 1976, despite being unable to sell in the American market due to the trade embargo.
The dispute reignited in the 1990s through two significant developments: Cubaexport formed a joint venture with French spirits giant Pernod Ricard in 1993, transforming Havana Club into a global brand, and Bacardi countered by purchasing the rights to the Havana Club name from the Arechabala family for $1.25mn in 1994.
Cuba's foreign ministry has reacted forcefully to the new legislation, characterising it as "a new unilateral coercive measure" that reinforces the long-standing US trade embargo. The ministry argues that the law violates both the Agreement on Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights and the Paris Convention for the Protection of Industrial Property.
"This law deals another blow to the international system of industrial property protection and confirms the United States' disregard for institutions of international law," the ministry stated, describing the legislation as effectively granting "a licence for piracy".
The commercial stakes are significant. While Bacardi continues to sell its Puerto Rico-made version of Havana Club in the US, the Cuban government's joint venture with Pernod Ricard has transformed the original recipe into one of the world's leading rum brands outside the American market.
The legal battle has seen multiple twists, including a controversial 2016 decision by the US Patent and Trademark Office to allow Cubaexport to renew its trademark registration. Bacardi responded with both litigation and lobbying efforts, culminating in the recent legislation, which a Congressional committee explicitly framed as intended to resolve the Havana Club controversy.
A Washington judge recently sided with Bacardi, ruling that the US trade embargo bars Cubaexport's trademark case. The new law appears to further strengthen Bacardi's position, though it raises broader questions about international intellectual property rights and the continuing impact of US-Cuba trade restrictions.
The dispute highlights how Cold War-era politics continue to influence international commerce, particularly in relation to Cuba. For rum connoisseurs, it also underscores a practical division: while Americans can only access Bacardi's version of Havana Club, the rest of the world continues to enjoy the original Cuban-made spirit, produced using local sugarcane and traditional methods that supporters argue provide an authenticity impossible to replicate elsewhere.
The irony of a Caribbean rum being produced in Puerto Rico bearing the name "Havana" has not been lost on spirits enthusiasts, who note it is rather like making scotch in Sweden or champagne in Chile. The situation has created a peculiar reality where American tourists religiously stuff bottles of "genuine" Havana Club into their suitcases when travelling abroad, treating the Cuban spirit with the kind of reverence usually reserved for contraband – which, technically, it is once they reach US customs.