Testimonies of Repression and Protests in Havana
On Monday, the Madrid-based outlet Diario de Cuba shared distressing accounts from residents in Havana. These testimonies describe arrests and violent actions by government-aligned individuals aimed at suppressing protests during the frequent nighttime power outages the country is experiencing.
Conditions in Cuba have deteriorated significantly in recent months. This decline follows the loss of Venezuelan oil support after the U.S. arrested socialist leader Nicolas Maduro. For over twenty years, the Castro regime has depended on inexpensive Venezuelan oil to sustain its failing governance, which provides some level of protection for Maduro’s regime.
The withdrawal of this support has led to a surge in daily anti-communist protests throughout Cuba. Demonstrators are taking to the streets, often using the cover of darkness during power outages to make their voices heard—banging pots and pans and lighting fires in defiance of the regime.
According to Diario de Cuba, as discontent towards the Castro regime grows among the Cuban populace—fueled by political isolation and a weary citizenry—new directives have been issued to silence dissent through detailed police repression.
The newspaper also reported that a de facto curfew has been established in Havana, with citizens living in fear of being taken by police for interrogation or worse.
One man, referred to as “El Chino,” spoke anonymously due to concerns about retaliation. He detailed a harrowing encounter with law enforcement in which he was violently beaten. After being stopped for allegedly trying to buy cigarettes and refusing a drug test, he was labeled as a “troublemaker.” He ended up at a police station charged with “resisting arrest” and released after paying bail that amounts to about $291.59.
No drugs or incriminating evidence were found in his possession, and he was taken to a hospital for blood tests, despite already bleeding from injuries sustained during the arrest.
In another account, Damian Conesa, a Havana resident, described how he was attacked by six officers at night, simply while passing through an area during a power blackout. He emphasized that such incidents are not random; instead, they reflect a broader police tactic to enforce control during nighttime hours.
Conesa commented that fear is keeping people from moving about the city after dark. The government, he claimed, portrays the anti-regime protests as the actions of inebriated individuals, using this narrative to justify their heavy-handed response.
He pointed out that the regime’s strategy downplays substance abuse issues and instead uses them as justification for oppression and to undermine legitimate protests.
As Yanisei Travieso, a local resident, expressed, the government’s attempt to label protesters runs rampant—calling them drunks or criminals. Her own husband faced violence and accusations of “disturbing the peace” for simply tending to urgent matters in the night.
Travieso noted that whenever state-run media covers protests, they often highlight alleged misbehavior among participants—claiming they are drugs users or have criminal records—thereby legitimizing police crackdowns.
She also stressed that anytime someone steps outside during power outages, they’re at risk of being chastised by law enforcement as a potential “security threat.”
Residents like Alexander Vizcaino described the overwhelming fear permeating their neighborhoods, explaining that something as mundane as taking out the trash can lead to violent encounters with police. He recounted his experience of being beaten and taken to a police station, despite neighbors affirming his presence in the area.
Vizcaino was deeply affected by this incident, claiming that it ignited a newfound commitment to protest against the regime’s actions. He remains convinced that such oppressive measures signal the regime’s impending collapse—like a desperate last act from a government losing control.
