Independent journalist activist and former Cuban political prisoner Carlos Michael Morales (age 48) was sentenced to two years and ten months in prison after participating in the demonstrations on July 11, 2021 (11-J). He served his sentence in full, being held at four different prisons in his home province of Villa Clara.
In May 2024, just two months after being released, Morales was imprisoned again on a charges of disobedience related to his journalistic activity. Since July 2024, he has beenunder house arrest and constant harassment by the Cuban authorities, despite complaints by international human rights organizations like Amnesty International, Artículo 19 and the Complaint Center of the Foundation for Pan American Democracy.
In this interview with the Cuban Prisons Documentation Center, Morales talks about his experience as a political prisoner in Cuba, marked by constant human rights violations and impunity by prison authorities.
Let's talk about your arrest.
I was arrested for participating in the 11-J protests in Caibarién, Villa Clara. The next day I was taken to the municipality's police investigation unit and then to La Pendiente prison, in the city of Santa Clara, until in November 2021 I was sentenced to two years and ten months in prison on a bogus charge of disturbing the peace.
At that time I went on hunger strike to protest the judicial process, and they took me out because they were afraid that the more than 30 11-J prisoners there would follow my example. Then they transferred me to the Alambrada Prison, in Manacas, where I stayed for about two years and five months. Then, due to my rebellious attitude, I was taken to the the Guamajal Prison, also in Santa Clara, where I was subjected to the harshest regime. In February of 2024 I was transferred to the Provincial Prison of Villa Clara, known as the Pre, where I stayed until March 6, when I fully served out my sentence.
What were the living conditions like at those prisons?
La Pendiente was full. There I lived with 15 prisoners in an extremely small space. When we were quarantined for Covid we could barely leave the cell or get off our bunks. At the Manacas Prison I lived in cubicles with 30 people. They were small, and their hygienic conditions were dreadful. In fact, I became infected with intestinal parasites there. At the Guamajal Prison the conditions are slightly better, but the space is also very limited.
There I lived with 20 prisoners in a very small cell. At the Pre I became infected with intestinal parasites again due to the poor hygienic-sanitary conditions.
Did you feel discriminated against in prison?
For my political opinions. In Manacas they put me in with prisoners sentenced for common crimes, even though we were prisoners of conscience imprisoned unfairly, arbitrarily, for exercising our human rights. We shouldn't even have been incarcerated, and certainly not with extremely dangerous inmates. I even spent time with murderers.
Initially, the authorities did not allow other inmates to interact with political prisoners. Afterwards, they tried to stir up conflicts between us. There was always some regular prisoner who agreed to cooperate with State Security; they'd provoke us, and try to get us into trouble, but it was hard for them, because the vast majority of the prisoners held us in high regard.
Did you suffer hostile treatment by prison officials?
Yes. On one occasion a group leader named Henry tried to hit me, but we got in a struggle, and then the other inmates in the cell got involved and prevented him from hitting me. They punished me, taking away my phone and putting me in a walled cell. I had to go on hunger strike for a week, until Alfredo Gómez, the head of the prison body, saw that my health was deteriorating and suspended the punishment.
Other times I got into fierce arguments with guards who tried to humiliate me. On February 27, 2024, in Guamajal, I was attacked by Captain Félix Bucarí. I was arguing with an inmate who was an informant working for State Security, and had offended me, and the captain came and started to hit me. The next day, when they were going to transfer me to the Provincial Prison of Villa Clara, Major Rolando beat me again, simply because I asked where they were taking me.
On March 4, two days before I was released, a State Security officer who never identified himself came to see me and accused me of disobedience. The next day the head in Villa Clara of "confronting the opposition" showed up, a lieutenant colonel with State Security He told me that the disobedience charge would be dropped, but that if I continued working as a freelance journalist after my release they were going to imprison me again. And that's what happened. On May 2 I was jailed again on charges of disobedience.
What were the solitary confinement cells like?
They reek. You have to endure the stench of urine and feces that has accumulated over months and years. I was taken many times to those cells without having committed any infraction, simply as another form of persecution. Liván Hernández Sosa, an 11-J political prisoner, was also put in isolation for saying that there was corruption at the prison, something that was confirmed shortly thereafter when Kadil Hernández Cabrera, head of the Manacas Prison at that time, was fired after it was proven that he had been, in fact, involved in corrupt acts.
Are inmates seen by doctors when they go on hunger strikes?
A doctor usually visits them once a day, almost always in the morning. But, unless they faint or there's some kind of emergency they don't see them again until the next day.
Were you questioned by State Security agents?
They went with some frequency, but I refused to talk to them. On one occasion they threatened to transfer me to another prison after I sent a letter to another political 11-J prisoner. In Alambrada, while waiting for the sentence, an officer by the name of "Christopher" began to provoke me because he wanted my punishment to be extended, but I knew that if I took the bait he would accuse me of attacking him, and then they could lock me up for up to eight more years.
Then there was a time when they stopped going, or, when they did, they didn't see me. At the end of 2023 an officer named "Diego" arrived in Manacas to harass political prisoners.
On one occasion we got into a heated argument because he wanted to force me to talk to him, but I refused to. In retaliation, he put Liván Hernández Sosa and I in a tunnel, and left us handcuffed there for eight hours. As a result, I suffered bursitis in my right arm.
Did you file any formal complaints about these incidents?
When I left Manacas for Guamajal, I went on hunger strike to accuse "Diego," before the Military Prosecutor's Office, of having tortured me. I spent 15 days like that, enduring very poor conditions, until a prosecutor came and I was able to present my legal complaint.
In February of 2024 the Prosecutor's Office issued its response, stating that "Diego" had not committed any infraction, and that he had the authority to leave me handcuffed for eight hours. Total impunity.
Were you ever subjected to disciplinary treatments?
Several times. For not handing over a razor, for arguing with a guard who offended me... For those things, they put me in a walled cell for 48 hours, in Manacas. They punished the three 11-J political prisoners who were there.
Would you say that there are some prisoners who are treated better than others?
There are informant prisoners, or snitches (chivatos) as call them, disparagingly, in Cuba, who supply information. These people receive privileged treatment, to a certain extent, while their information enables the authorities to go after others. But, when they are no longer of use, they brush them aside, and they too become victims.
Did you see inmates in positions of disciplinary power over others?
That happens at prisons all over the world, but I have to say that the prison population is no longer as aggressive as it was a few years ago, when there were more fights and stabbings, at least in Villa Clara.
There are always some prisoners who want to bully others, but few do now, as there is a lot of hunger, overcrowding, repression, and what the prisoners want is to access a minimum severity regime so they can work, earn a little money, and get furloughed every two months.
You're a Christian. Did they respect your right to religious attention?
The only prison in Villa Clara where there is religious attention is Guamajal, and it is very limited. The first time I went to worship, the head of Reeducation didn't want me to participate. The second time they simply wouldn't let me in. They started asking me for a series of papers. They said that we were all there, and they didn't want us to have that contact.
Were you deprived of your right to make phone calls?
On several occasions they threatened to deprive me of them for two months, but they didn't follow through, as they knew that I was on a hunger strike.
In Guamajal the re-educator Carlos Leyva, however, sided with the political prisoners when he heard the things they had to say. I had to cite codes, and, even so, arguments with him were constant.
At the Pre I had less time to make calls, but I felt free because there were no guards listening. It is very unpleasant to have no privacy with your family members.
Were you offered the chance to study or work?
There is a school at the prisons, but it's a joke. The teaching is of very low quality. Generally speaking, political prisoners with an attitude of dignity reject re-education. The same things is true of work. Many times they offer it to people who give the authorities information.
The position of a principled political prisoner is not to work, especially at a maximum security prison. In fact, when a political prisoner is offered a job, it is to humiliate him.
Let's talk about the food.
If there is one thing that really hurts at Cuban prisons, it's the hunger. No one can be satiated with the amount of food they give you there, and the cooking is awful.
For breakfast they gave us an acidic drink and a piece of bread or some root vegetable. At about 11:00 in the morning, a snack; and lunch at 4:00 in the afternoon: a little rice, which is often like a putty, or is dirty, with seeds, garbage, and pebbles; a little water, where they boiled some food before, without any salt or condiments; a bit of minced tench (fish), of very poor quality and emitting a tremendous stench; or tench croquettes that only a pig could eat.
Prisoners who do not have a family member to bring them food, constituting the vast majority, have to live with that and go 12 to 14 hours without eating anything between lunch and breakfast. You can imagine the malnutrition at prisons
What is the situation in terms of water?
Of the prisons in Villa Clara, three have critical water situations. I was sometimes thirsty. The water was disgusting, tasting of dirt or fish. It usually has to be transported in buckets, and the supply was very limited. If I washed, I couldn't take a bath; if I tried to, there often wasn't enough to bathe. The water there is so cold that, at the prisons with a courtyard, the prisoners put the buckets in the sun to warm them up a little.
What was your experience with healthcare?
When I arrived at La Pendiente we underwent psychological analysis. They also conduct health tests, but these are more complementary. Sometimes they do antigen or HIV tests to see if there are any people with venereal diseases. But, overall, the medical care in Cuban prisons is poor. Sometimes you have to go on a hunger strike to get care. There are many elderly people with serious illnesses and diseases, and they are not given extra-penal leave. For that to happen, the inmate has to be on the verge of death. This is a regime that has no compassion for sick people.
When I had a medical problem, I usually got the necessary examinations, but, because they knew that I spoke out through the independent press, social media, and the Cuban Human Rights Observatory.
However, during the last hunger strike I went on, in February 2024, after being beaten by Captain Félix Bucarí and Major Rolando, the attention was critical. They later isolated me from the rest of the prison population, without an inmate to take care of me. One morning I suffered severe tachycardia and there was absolutely no one to help me.
What about access to medicines?
It's like a horror movie. There are very few medications. When an inmate falls ill, the vast majority of the drugs that the doctor might prescribe must be obtained outside the prison, where the situation is also serious. If a sick inmate doesn't have a family member to take care of him, 'he's just not going to get cured.'
In prison, were you provided with the clothes and everything else you needed?
They gave you one or two changes of clothes, which you have to wear every day. Only at La Pendiente, which is for people who are not yet sentenced, do they let you wear civilian clothes, and mostly on weekends, when you wash. Otherwise you are only allowed inmate clothing, which is of an extremely uncomfortable fabric, unpleasant to the eye and on the body.
If you wash it during the week, you may be punished. They give you a quilt, which usually reeks, and that you have to wash with a lot of detergent to get the stench out; a sheet, which is usually very worn out; and a small towel that inmates use to wash their feet. One bathroom soap once a month, and sometimes a roll of toilet paper. They never give you a shaving razor, though you are required to shave.
Did you witness any deaths or suicide attempts in prison?
When I was in Manacas, one inmate committed suicide; he couldn't stand the hunger he was suffering.
Do you think that the prison authorities seek to minimize the differences between life in prison and outside it, as should be their goal?
No. Inmates are treated aggressively, rudely and disparagingly. They are assaulted, beaten over minor incidents, punished, and disciplined for the least infraction, sometimes even for pleasure. Minors receive serious beatings by the police and members of the military. It is a constant onslaught, to the point that prisoners sometimes find daily life difficult.
Do you think the prison authorities seek to prevent or reduce recidivism by inmates?
They should, but, unfortunately, this is a police state where everything is a crime. At La Pendiente prison there were more than 600 inmates, even though this exceed its capacity. They had to set up outbuildings at the Villa Clara Provincial Prison because they did not all fit. There are a huge number of people awaiting trial due to the trend of accusing Cubans of disobedience and constituting threats.