A Cuban Independence Cry Resurrected: The New Cry of Baire
HAVANA TIMES – The Cry of Baire is one of the most notable anniversaries in Cuban history because it marks the precise moment when the final struggle for the country’s independence began.
What happened on February 24, 1895, in that town near Santiago de Cuba went down in history as the moment when the armed fight against Spanish colonialism was resumed under the leadership of Jose Martí, Maximo Gomez, and Antonio Maceo.
It was the beginning of the end of Spain’s rule over Cuba, which would recognize its defeat just three years later.
Unintentionally, but with that symbolism on the horizon, this week there were notable protests in that same municipality of Santiago de Cuba, where dozens of residents took to the streets to demand food, electricity, and freedom amid prolonged blackouts.
The events took place on October 16, when demonstrators marched through the streets banging pots and shouting “Freedom!” and “Down with Diaz-Canel!” during a power outage that had lasted more than 30 hours.
According to independent media reports, Dr. Erlis Sierra Gomez, a pediatrician and father of two girls, was handcuffed and transferred from Contramaestre to Santiago de Cuba after being arrested on Friday morning. At his new location, he was denied contact with lawyers or family visits.
His mother, Ania Gomez, posted a video on social media saying she was desperate because she had no news from him. “My son didn’t bang any pots or harm anyone. He only asked for solutions for the people,” she said in the message that circulated hours later, since the government had cut Internet access in the area.
In the cellphone videos that were shared, Sierra can be seen speaking energetically but respectfully about the problems affecting his community, while those he was addressing acknowledge that he was expressing himself correctly and assure him that nothing will happen to him.
As a doctor, he emphasized the serious public health situation in the area, where dengue fever is rampant, and he told the local authorities that if they could not solve the problem, they should let the community handle it.
He even reminded them that they had refused when the local church offered to help provide water and deal with the accumulating garbage—another critical issue in that small town.
At one point, he directly mentioned the possibility that he might later be summoned and pressured, to which the officials present replied that nothing would happen to him, as his complaints were normal.
However, those “above” thought differently, and hours later the hunt began for him and others who had become prominent in the neighborhoods of La Salada and El Transformador, which ended up surrounded by soldiers over the weekend.
The young doctor later appeared on Saturday saying that he had not been mistreated, that he did not want to be “a leader of anything,” and that he was currently “in dialogue with the relevant institutions.” It would not be surprising if soon he appears saying he acted without thinking, that he should have gone through the proper channels, and so on—the usual farce staged by the dictatorship to try to show the world that it has no internal enemies, only disoriented individuals who temporarily lose control.
Among those who expressed support for the detainees was opposition leader Jose Daniel Ferrer, recently arrived in the United States, who denounced the arrests of Sierra and nurse Humberto Nieto, identifying them as victims of the political repression unleashed by the regime.
Sierra became one of the most visible faces of the protests in Baire after a video spread of him peacefully demanding that local authorities find solutions to the lack of water, food, and electricity.
So far, the authorities have provided no official information about the detainees or the charges against them, and the state media have not mentioned either the protests or the arrests.
The demonstrations in Baire are the most significant to have been recorded in Santiago de Cuba since March of last year, when top provincial authorities had to go to District 3 of the provincial capital. Right in front of Beatriz Johnson, the First Secretary of the Communist Party of Cuba (PCC) in Santiago, people began shouting “Murderers!” as the repressive forces (the red berets) marched by.
This was not the first protest of the month. On October 2, residents of Centro Habana blocked Monte Street with buckets while shouting “electricity and freedom,” and near the Havana port others protested after 30 hours without electricity.
Likewise, on October 7, residents of the Santa Felicia neighborhood in the Marianao district of Havana took to the streets banging pots to demand electricity, food, and freedom, while blocking the central 51st Avenue.
A similar event occurred this same week in Regla, where residents closed off a street to protest the lack of water—all incidents captured in videos later posted on social media.
After each protest, partial solutions appeared, and Baire was no exception: residents had gone three months without receiving the milk ration for the community’s children, and suddenly a truck full of powdered milk arrived.
Also, as after every protest, the participants will now face harassment and surveillance from the political police. From that moment on, their every move will be watched closely, the traditional method used to intimidate citizens and maintain in power a clique that no one wants, not even those who carry out its Machiavellian orders.
These gifts—coveted but scarce and fleeting—provoke more distrust than relief, because everyone knows they are temporary. The same mother who clutches a package of milk tightly knows that danger lurks on her street corners and that her entire family remains on edge after every cry for justice.
In that dance between hope and fear, Cuba has learned to live in a precarious balance, where every day becomes a struggle for bread, for milk, but above all, for the dignity lost along the way.