Ramón Velázquez Toranzo, Bárbara María González Cruz, and René Ramón Velázquez González in Cuba.
There are good and courageous people in Cuba who are risking everything for a better tomorrow. Four of them are Ramón Jesús Velázquez Toranzo, his wife Bárbara María González Cruz, his son René Ramón Velázquez González and his niece Lorena Velázquez Hechavarría who traveled to the Sanctuary of El Cobre, and on March 8th made public a video, and statement inviting Cubans to come together, and reflect on finding solutions to the problems they face as a people.
This is a nonviolent action that is reminiscent of Kingian nonviolence, but profoundly Cuban. Ramón Jesús Velázquez Toranzo, his wife Bárbara María González Cruz were residing in the United States. Ramón Jesus, a former prisoner of conscience, with his family are risking all for a better Cuba tomorrow.
Martin Luther King Jr. in a 1959 speech to the War Resisters League made the case for an alternative to war to successfully confront evil, "Gandhi resisted evil with as much vigor and power as the violent resister, but he resisted with love instead of hate. True pacifism is not unrealistic submission to evil power. It is rather a courageous confrontation of evil by the power of love, in the faith that it is better to be the recipient of violence than the inflicter of it, since the latter only multiples the existence of violence and bitterness in the universe, while the former may develop a sense of shame in the opponent, and thereby bring about a transformation and change of heart."
Ramón Jesus and his family are confronting the evil of a totalitarian dictatorship, in the midst of one of the worst moments in the history of Cuba's communist regime, with a message of love and solidarity that they are sharing with Cubans. Below is their message, followed by an English translation.
People of Cuba who suffer…
In order to find for ourselves a quick and definitive solution to so many difficult problems that have been suffocating us for more than 60 years, we have decided to: Call a general meeting to thoroughly analyze these problems, find the causes that provoke them and eliminate these causes.
We have meditated much on what would be the best place to hold this people's gathering, and the answer has come to us in a providential way.
Where better than under the care and protection of almighty God and the virgin Patroness of Cuba? Where so many Cubans have gone to request difficult favors, consolation for our sorrows and, above all, to thank with our knees on the ground the favors granted and the prayers heard.
Yes, Cuban, we are already waiting for you with open arms and a heart full of fraternal love in the National Sanctuary of Our Lady of Charity of Cobre, in the town of the same name in Santiago de Cuba. Come and bring your sufferings, your anguish and your injustices. And rest assured, as all of us who are already here have, that with the intercession of the Blessed Virgin and the favor of our father God we will return to our homes with the greatest and most beautiful of miracles granted.
The miracle of freedom and justice for an entire suffering people.
I am Ramon Jesus, a son of God.
This is not the first time they have challenged the Cuban dictatorship, and paid a price. Ramón Jesus was an actor in the Las Tunas theater company in Cuba, until he was fired and blacklisted by the Cuban dictatorship for his political activism in 1990. On December 10, 2006 he set out on a "March for Dignity" with his wife, and 18 year old daughter Rufina. Human Rights Watch in their November 18, 2009 report "New Castro, Same Cuba" described what happened next.
Each of them carried a sign. The signs read: “respect for human rights,” “freedom for political prisoners,” and “no more repression against the peaceful opposition.” Their goal was to walk the entire length of the island of Cuba, from east to west.
They marched silently. At night, they slept on the sides of roads, in bus stops, or in the homes of people who took them in. After a few days, security officers began trailing them. On the outskirts of Holguín, a group affiliated with the government known as a “rapid response brigade” surrounded them with bats and metal rods. They called Velásquez and his family “mercenaries” and “whores,” and threatened to rape Bárbara and Rufina. Police looked on and did nothing.
Security officials arrested the family as they walked through Holguín. Velásquez was thrown in jail, while his wife and daughter were forcibly returned to their home in Las Tunas. When Velásquez was released four days later, they continued to march west. Twice, cars tried to run them over, and they had to dive off the road to avoid being hit. More brigades taunted them. Security officers threatened them. Still, they kept marching.
They reached Camagüey on January 19, 2007, and were arrested again. Velásquez was held for four days and then taken to a municipal court. That he had not committed a crime did not matter; under Cuba’s “dangerousness” law, individuals can be imprisoned simply when courts determine they are likely to commit a crime in the future.
The state’s only evidence against him was a series of “official warnings” (advertencias oficiales) for being unemployed—issued while he was on his march—which he had never seen before. His lawyer, whom he met five minutes before the trial, defended him vigorously at the outset of the hearing. Then, the judge called a recess and invited the defense lawyer to his quarters. When the lawyer returned, she stopped defending Velásquez and did not speak for the rest of the trial.
The trial lasted less than an hour, and the judge sentenced Velásquez to three years in jail. He was bused to a prison, stripped down to his underwear, and thrown into a solitary confinement cell. The tiny space had no bed—only a concrete floor that flooded with water every time it rained. When his family brought him food to supplement the meager prison rations, guards repeatedly left it outside his cell to rot.
His wife, Bárbara, fell into a deep depression following his incarceration, not leaving her bed for weeks, while his son, René, was fired from his job without warning. His daughter Rufina, who continued to monitor human rights and report on abuses, was subjected to constant surveillance. Authorities warned her that she would suffer the same fate as her father if she did not change her behavior. She eventually fled to the United States, where she lives today.
Ramón Jesus was jailed in February 2007. He completed the three year prison sentence, and returned to opposition activism upon his release in 2010. In December 2011, the family carried out an initiative, bags of hope, for Christmas, and he was threatened by Cuban state security, and told not to give out toys to children on Christmas, but was able to do it. This was done through word of mouth, with toys donated from the Cuban diaspora.
In May 2013, he and his wife arrived in the United States as political refugees, and were reunited with their daughter Rufina. Now they have returned to Cuba, and when given the choice between leaving Cuba without the right to return, or remain and risk prison. They have chosen to remain in the island.
Beginning on March 8, 2024 Ruffina, over social media, has been sharing both statements and information on the plight of her family.
Ramón Velázquez Toranzo was taken by force, and arbitrarily detained. He is now on hunger strike. His wife, Bárbara María González Cruz, and son, René Ramón Velázquez González, were forced to depart the Sanctuary of the Cobre, their phones were taken by regime officials leaving them incomunicado, and taken home.
The New York Review, May 27, 2010
Cuba—A Way Forward
Daniel Wilkinson and Nik Steinberg
[ Excerpt ]
If the crime of the political prisoners is essentially voicing their opinions, a main function of imprisoning them is to isolate them from their potential audiences. Ramón Velásquez Toranzo taught theater until his political activities cost him his job. In December 2006, he set out on a silent march across the island to call for the release of Cuba’s political prisoners. On the road he was repeatedly threatened and beaten by civilian Rapid Response Brigades, according to his wife and daughter, who accompanied him. He was twice detained and forcibly returned to his home by police. On his third attempt, he was taken to prison and given a three-year sentence for “dangerousness.”
[ Excerpt]
https://www.nybooks.com/articles/2010/05/27/cuba-a-way-forward/?lp_txn_id=1535796
Human Rights Watch, November 18, 2009
New Castro, Same Cuba
Political Prisoners in the Post-Fidel Era
II. Illustrative Cases
Ramón Velásquez Toranzo[1]
Ramón Velásquez Toranzo set out on his march on December 10, 2006—International Human Rights Day. With him were his wife, Bárbara, and their 18-year-old daughter, Rufina. Each of them carried a sign. The signs read: “respect for human rights,” “freedom for political prisoners,” and “no more repression against the peaceful opposition.” Their goal was to walk the entire length of the island of Cuba, from east to west.
They marched silently. At night, they slept on the sides of roads, in bus stops, or in the homes of people who took them in. After a few days, security officers began trailing them. On the outskirts of Holguín, a group affiliated with the government known as a “rapid response brigade” surrounded them with bats and metal rods. They called Velásquez and his family “mercenaries” and “whores,” and threatened to rape Bárbara and Rufina. Police looked on and did nothing.
Security officials arrested the family as they walked through Holguín. Velásquez was thrown in jail, while his wife and daughter were forcibly returned to their home in Las Tunas. When Velásquez was released four days later, they continued to march west. Twice, cars tried to run them over, and they had to dive off the road to avoid being hit. More brigades taunted them. Security officers threatened them. Still, they kept marching.
They reached Camagüey on January 19, 2007, and were arrested again. Velásquez was held for four days and then taken to a municipal court. That he had not committed a crime did not matter; under Cuba’s “dangerousness” law, individuals can be imprisoned simply when courts determine they are likely to commit a crime in the future.
The state’s only evidence against him was a series of “official warnings” (advertencias oficiales) for being unemployed—issued while he was on his march—which he had never seen before. His lawyer, whom he met five minutes before the trial, defended him vigorously at the outset of the hearing. Then, the judge called a recess and invited the defense lawyer to his quarters. When the lawyer returned, she stopped defending Velásquez and did not speak for the rest of the trial.
The trial lasted less than an hour, and the judge sentenced Velásquez to three years in jail. He was bused to a prison, stripped down to his underwear, and thrown into a solitary confinement cell. The tiny space had no bed—only a concrete floor that flooded with water every time it rained. When his family brought him food to supplement the meager prison rations, guards repeatedly left it outside his cell to rot.
His wife, Bárbara, fell into a deep depression following his incarceration, not leaving her bed for weeks, while his son, René, was fired from his job without warning. His daughter Rufina, who continued to monitor human rights and report on abuses, was subjected to constant surveillance. Authorities warned her that she would suffer the same fate as her father if she did not change her behavior. She eventually fled to the United States, where she lives today.
As of November 2009, Velásquez was still serving out his sentence.
https://www.hrw.org/report/2009/11/19/new-castro-same-cuba/political-prisoners-post-fidel-era
Original Spanish text of the March 8, 2024 statement
:
Pueblo de Cuba que sufres…
A fin de encontrar por nosotros mismos una solución rápida y definitiva de tantos y tan difíciles problemas como son los que nos asfixian por ya más de 60 años, hemos decidido: Convocar a reunión general para entre todos analizar a fondo esos problemas, encontrar las causas que los provocan y eliminar estas causas.
Hemos meditado mucho sobre cuál sería el mejor lugar para efectuar este encuentro de pueblo, y la respuesta nos ha llegado de manera providencial.
¿Dónde mejor que bajo el cuidado y la protección de Dios todopoderoso y la virgen Patrona de Cuba? En dónde tantos cubanos hemos acudido a solicitar favores difíciles, consuelo para nuestras penas y sobre todo, agradecer rodilla en tierra los favores concedidos y las plegarias escuchadas.
Si, cubano, desde ya te estamos esperando con los brazos abiertos y el corazón lleno de amor fraternal en el Santuario Nacional de Nuestra Señora de la Caridad del Cobre, en el poblado de este mismo nombre en Santiago de Cuba. Ven y trae tus sufrimientos, tus angustias y tus injusticias. Y ten la seguridad, como la tenemos todos los que ya estamos aquí, de que con la intercesión de la Virgen Santísima y el favor de nuestro padre Dios regresaremos a nuestros hogares con el más grande y hermoso de los milagros concedidos. El milagro de la libertad y la justicia para todo un pueblo que sufre.
Yo soy Ramon Jesus, hijo de Dios.