Cuba: Pavel Torres Has Been Jailed for 10 Months, No Trial
for his criticism of the regime
“This is no longer justice; it’s exemplary punishment,” laments his brother, a lieutenant colonel in the Armed Forces.
By Pablo Padilla Cruz (14ymedio)
HAVANA TIMES – “You have to come with us.” With that curt phrase, an officer from the National Revolutionary Police (PNR) detained Pavel Torres Rodríguez, a resident of the Versalles neighborhood in Matanzas. They handcuffed him and put him in a patrol car that, instead of heading to the Playa police station, drove north. His family grew alarmed. The destination was the dreaded Technical Department of State Security in the province, known as one of the places where human rights are most often violated in Cuba.
The cause of his arrest was simply speaking out without fear. Pavel openly criticized the country’s economic situation and the performance of its leaders, whom he accused of forgetting about the people. He didn’t hesitate to call them “thieves” in his posts.
“They took him away on the night of October 11, 2024,” recounts his mother, Margarita Rodriguez. “It had rained, the power was out, and we were sitting on the porch. Pavel came in cursing the blackout and said something outrageous, the kind of thing anyone might blurt out. Less than ten minutes later, the patrol car was at the door. The rest is history: two weeks at State Security and since then in the Combinado del Sur prison.”
Missing Documents and Procedural Irregularities
According to the family, the criminal investigators tried to make him sign documents without his lawyer present. Even worse, the case files disappeared. “Neither State Security agents have them, nor do they appear at the Prosecutor’s Office,” says his mother. Pavel’s cell phone has also not been returned. The police claim the case is still open, but it cannot be closed without the missing file.
Cuban law sets a maximum period for pretrial detention between three and six months, and exceptionally up to 250 days. Pavel has now been imprisoned for more than ten months without a trial being held.
Health Risks and the Family’s Anguish
His mother’s greatest fear is for his health. Pavel worked at a local sugarcane juice stand and loved spearfishing, but two years ago he suffered a heart attack that left him with health problems. “I’m scared for him,” Margarita confesses, “because I’ve heard rumors about inmates dying in Combinado del Sur. I already lost a daughter to COVID-19; I couldn’t bear to lose another child.”
Currently, Pavel is in Detachment Two, Cell 6, awaiting trial. His case is registered as “propaganda against the constitutional order,” a crime punishable by three to eight years in prison.
Life Inside Prison
A former inmate who shared time with him recalls Pavel’s solidarity: “I’ve known him for more than 15 years. He was always humble and ready to help. In prison, we communicated by tapping on walls or using a string made from a sack, to pass letters and food, risking solitary confinement. Once he asked me for a Bible, and I threw it to him along with some crackers in a bag, the same afternoon I was released.”
The irregular communication from prison is another sign of the anomalies in the case. According to his brother—a lieutenant colonel in the Revolutionary Armed Forces—several friends received calls from Pavel’s number, even though the line was officially confiscated. The family tried to cancel it at Etecsa, but they were not allowed.
“I have a different ideology from my brother, but I can’t close my eyes. His case is full of irregularities; the time for a trial has passed, and we haven’t seen any progress,” says the military officer, admitting the tension the family is under. “My mother is a bundle of nerves. I think they’re using him as an example to the neighbors, no matter the harm they do to us.”
Pavel turned 46 in prison on August 20. During the family visit the day before, he expressed his uncertainty about not having a trial date and mentioned the possibility of going on a hunger and thirst strike despite his fragile physical condition.
In prison, he also faces a bedbug infestation that worsens the inmates’ living conditions. “At night, discouragement overwhelms him,” says his family. Yet his Christian faith and his conviction of having “a clean conscience” sustain him. “Bars cannot confine dignity or ideas when they are just,” he insists.
A Man Without Filters
Pavel was never a member of opposition organizations in Matanzas, though he sympathized with Somos+ and the Patriotic Union of Cuba (Unpacu). He is described as a straightforward man, with no filters, a fiery temperament, and always laughing. In his neighborhood, the sugarcane juice stand where he worked was a meeting place. His house, located behind the gas station and half a block from the Provincial Communist Party Committee, became the scene of loud political debates.
On Facebook, he maintained several profiles under his name from which he posted scathing comments against the regime and demanded freedom for the July 11, 2021, protesters. That day, his mother and brother recall, they had to hold him back on the roof to keep him from shouting slogans against the government.
A Family Demanding Justice
Today, after nearly a year in pretrial detention, his family demands respect for due process. His mother, devastated, fears the endless wait is becoming a disguised sentence. His brother, despite political differences, agrees: “This is no longer justice; it’s exemplary punishment.”
First published in Spanish by 14ymedio and translated and posted in English by Havana Times.