Tribute to the Cuban political prison

By: Pedro Corzo - 03/04/2024

Guest columnist.
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The recent death of Tommy Fernández-Travieso, one of Cuba's most emblematic political prisoners, forces us to reflect once again on the meaning and significance of a deed that has acquired its own content.

I have written it on numerous occasions and expressed it no less often, I feel very proud to have been in the Cuban political prison and I do not know a single colleague who is not also proud. Not only did we fulfill our duty, but prison strengthened us in values ​​and principles, which is why we consider ourselves better citizens.

This pride leads us to remember particularly painful events such as the death on hunger strike of any comrade such as the cases, among others, of Pedro Luis Boitel and Orlando Zapata Tamayo, the murder of Ernesto Diaz Madruga or the closure of the Political Prison of Isla of Pinos that Ramiro Gómez Barrueco organizes in March of each year.

The fight to combat the dictatorship took us to the Presidio, but that experience acquired such a special character that it became another phase of the process, so much so that, although we talk about the historic presidio and the new Presidio, I dare to affirm with everyone's respect, that this is only one Prison because we continue fighting against the same tyrannical totalitarianism that has tried to subjugate us since January 1, 1959.

The Cuban Political Prison has been a constant focus of resistance to totalitarianism as demonstrated by the creation of civic, political and fraternal organizations by the prisoners.

Religious ceremonies are remembered by many. To them, Ángel de Fana, an irreducible fighter, Alejandro Moreno Maya, Mayita, and the unforgettable Father Loredo dedicated great efforts. Music, always with us. Julio Hernández Rojo, with his guitar, the voice of Mario Fajardo and the teas made by Héctor Yera and Vitico Cera, and the always present Manuel Villanueva with his numerous compositions and the greatest of all, the Presidio Anthem, “La Montaña”, song that has been fervently embraced by new generations of freedom fighters.

Lodge meetings are also present. The schools to train defenders of democracy, among others the Club Nuestra América in which were Nicolas Pérez Días Arguelles, Manolo del Valle Caral, Julio Hernández Rojo, Noel Rubio, Roberto Cáceres and Ramiro Gómez Barrueco, always in the first trench of our struggle.

Leaders who taught unionism like Pedro Folcade and brave men like Ricardito Vázquez and Eugenio Llamera, who instructed whoever wanted it on the safest way to deactivate the explosives that the Castros had ordered to place in the circulars to kill us all.

Presidio, in any of its infernal branches, was a great Training school, where most of us graduated as citizens. The prison was so energetic, with so many commitments, that even a change of clothes was seen as an affront and generated a new trench. Our brother Roberto Perdomo, one of the most affable and cordial people I have ever met, along with other companions, spent almost 25 years of his 28 years in prison, in his underwear, for not accepting the clothes of common prisoners. It is difficult to find more gallantry.

Escape plans have never been extinguished in prison. Reinaldo Aquit Manrique made a spectacular escape from the Island disguised as a soldier, remaining a fugitive for several months. We even had a wall in prison. In 1964, Miguel Conde Grimm, Elio de Armas Ayala and Abel Galante Borondt were shot on the Isla de Pinos, the sentence was handed down by Tribune Number 1 of Havana. These compatriots were shot for trying to escape and trying to leave on a boat called “Tres Hermanos,” Jose “Pepe” Bello recalled these days.

The Transterritorial Prison. Cubans fought against the dictatorship far from our shores. Many compatriots went to prison, Orlando Bosch, Luis Posada Carriles, Gaspar, Pedro Remón, the Novo Sampol Brothers, Dionisio Suarez and Virgilio Paz Romero, who gave us a moving dissertation on political imprisonment in this country.

Without the support of our families the resistance would not have been possible. I remember our mothers and wives, the children growing up, the new births, those packages that were the meaning of the hunger that our people would go through at home, when they brought us their meals.

In short, an endless sacrifice that even, perhaps, without understanding, our families never stopped protecting us. Eternal gratitude to Estrella, Lourdes and Elvira who never gave up supporting my father and me. The family was the bastion of all of us

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