The naturalness and lack of victimhood of someone who has just been released from an unjust prison annoys a society accustomed to entrenched positions.
14ymedio, Pete Carcia, Miami. August 2, 2026 / Much of Miami greeted the artist and former political prisoner Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara with hostility. Every word, every garment, and every gesture has been cause for suspicion, controversy, and, in some cases, even outrage.
They demand more combativeness, more vengeance, more enthusiasm when condemning his captors. Every response—or every silence—can be used against him. The naturalness and lack of victimhood in a human being who has just been released from an unjust prison seem to bother a society too accustomed to the rhetoric of the trenches and the martyrdom of others.
Luis Manuel should never have had a beer or drunk Chinese whiskey. Nor should he have allowed himself a single minute of peace and enjoyment in that house where State Security kept him under surveillance, after five years of confinement, solitude, and despair. The moral police of Homestead, Little Havana, and Hialeah would have preferred he go on another hunger strike and lose the weight that, according to his guards, he had to lose. They wanted to see him get off the plane dressed in prison garb, without a watch, emaciated, and sufficiently thin.
A woman cries out in outrage on social media that “this isn’t what people expected.” She demands answers. Thanks to her, many like her—she asserts, distraught and furious—Luis Manuel is now known and has received awards. She wants him to rewrite his story, to complain enough and meticulously describe how much he suffered and how many blows he received; to rub salt in his wounds and scream at the top of his lungs how much he hates his captors. Minutes later, she returns to TikTok Shop, and the anger seems to subside. continue reading
It goes without saying, but it bears repeating: those who benefit most from this whole mess are Cuban State Security and content creators
A YouTuber insinuates the activist works for the apparatus. Another person cites an alleged witness who claims he was never imprisoned in Guanajay. Suspicion spreads faster than the facts, because on social media, accusations are always more profitable than prudence.
It goes without saying, but it bears repeating: the biggest winners in this whole mess are State Security and content creators. The former have meticulously presented the latter with this delicacy, and the latter are devouring it with cannibalistic enthusiasm. At times, it seems as if the former are working for the latter and the latter for the former.
It is not the first time the diaspora has received one of its own not only with hugs and affection, but also with an axe in hand. History repeats itself with disturbing frequency.
Miami is a complex city, to which we brought both our best virtues and also our darkest tendencies. Its streets are walked by people who once participated in acts of repudiation: former informers, former repressors, and representatives of almost everything bad that Castroism has produced. Some have reinvented themselves as spokespeople for an anti-Castroism too rigid and strident to be credible. Their methods betray them: acts of repudiation, propaganda, denigration, and character assassination.
They are the hordes that today shout from this shore as they did before from the other.
It is not the first time that the diaspora has received one of its own not only with hugs and affection, but also with an axe in hand
I’m not referring, of course, to the legitimate questioning of a speech, a behavior, or a stance. No one is exempt from criticism, not even Luis Manuel. I’m referring to the lynching, the suspicion turned into a spectacle, and the demand that a victim eternally play the role that others have written for them.
Many members of these exile rapid response brigades seem to need constant redemption for a less-than-honorable past. The majority don’t know what a prison cell smells like. Perhaps that is why the bravery of others makes them feel so small.
There are many good people in Miami too; they just don’t shout as loudly. They are the ones who have welcomed with affection, respect, and care those who arrive with wounded souls from an island adrift in despair. They are the ones who understand that leaving prison doesn’t obligate anyone to continue living as a prisoner and that freedom also means regaining the right to smile, rest, make mistakes, and drink a beer without having to answer to any moral tribunal.
______________________
COLLABORATE WITH OUR WORK: The 14ymedio team is committed to practicing serious journalism that reflects Cuba’s reality in all its depth. Thank you for joining us on this long journey. We invite you to continue supporting us by becoming a member of 14ymedio now. Together we can continue transforming journalism in Cuba.
