SAN ANTONIO DE LOS BAÑOS, Cuba, March 10 (Reuters) - Without warning, the sleepy Cuban farm town of San Antonio de los Baños burst into protest one morning nearly five years ago, triggering a series of copycat demonstrations across the country that shook the Communist government unlike any event in decades.
Frustrated by chronic shortages of food and medicine and lengthy power outages as the coronavirus pandemic lingered, protesters marched in the streets chanting “Patria y Vida,” or “Homeland and Life,”
the title of a popular song that inverts the Communist slogan "Patria o Muerte," or "Homeland or Death."
The phrase became a rallying cry for a movement that was quickly crushed by state security forces.
Now, with Cuba under a U.S.-imposed oil blockade and sanctions that have thrown the country into a deeper crisis, Reuters visited the same neighborhoods where police and protesters clashed most fiercely on July 11, 2021: San Antonio de los Baños and the marginalized Havana neighborhood of La Güinera.
In interviews with 12 people on the record, and several others who declined to be identified, Reuters found that people remember the brutality of the last crackdown, a testament to the enduring power of Cuba’s security apparatus. Some, however, were eager to place blame on Washington and the punishing U.S. economic sanctions against Cuba.
While Cubans have expressed frustration over lengthy power blackouts, banging on kitchen pots in a plea to turn the lights back on, for now, at least, a repeat of July 11 seems unlikely. Dissident leaders have largely been jailed or exiled since then, and the government has shut off the internet at signs of protests, as it did that day. Fear, though, is also a factor.
“I assure you, people won't protest in the streets because they're afraid,” said Brian Jimenez, 26, a baker from San Antonio de los Baños, who said he was beaten by police that day and detained for several days afterward.
Police showed restraint at first, he said, but then came the feared "black berets," a brigade of the Interior Ministry, and "they roughed up the people," setting an example that was still reverberating.
"A lot of my friends are still in jail," Jimenez said.
Reuters could not verify his account of police beatings of detainees, though other demonstrators and human rights groups reported similar accounts of abuse.
The Cuban government did not reply to a request for comment.
'WHEN YOU PROTEST YOU CAN'T FIND WORK'
Cubans expressed a range of opinions, from sympathy toward the Cuban government in the face of U.S. antagonism to openly criticizing the Communist government for failing to produce prosperity. Others called for dialogue and understanding.
But all agreed there was little prospect of another massive popular uprising any time soon, citing the government's violent repression of 2021, resulting in long prison terms for many protesters, while also observing that demonstrations failed to produce any meaningful change.
Though only 40 km (25 miles) outside Havana, San Antonio de los Baños, population 50,000, is a world apart, typical of many towns across the eyebrow-shaped island. Tractors and carts drawn by scraggly horses, their ribs showing through weather-beaten hides, are almost as common as cars on the streets, where vendors sell locally grown potatoes, onions and cucumbers.
At the town square where many Cubans gathered in front of the church that day, university student Robert Perez said the government has retaliated against July 11 protesters and their families, effectively causing self-censorship.
"When you protest, you can't find work. They take action against you or your family," said Perez, 27, a sociology student at Artemisa University. "In Cuba, everyone knows that one way to make a living is to open a small business and sell goods. Those who rose up on July 11th can't do that."
Rights groups, the European Union and the United States estimate Cuba has jailed between 1,000 and 1,500 people since those widespread protests, many of whom continue to serve extended sentences.
The Cuban government did not respond to a query on how many prisoners it currently holds on convictions related to July 11 protests.
Cuban authorities say those jailed were found guilty of crimes including public disorder, resisting arrest, robbery and vandalism. Cuba blames the United States for funding the unrest and encouraging its spread, part of a broader plot to overthrow the island's government.
Frustration over blackouts sometimes spills into the streets. Reuters witnessed several demonstrations in poor neighborhoods of Havana on Saturday night, as people banged on pots. In one instance, the lights came back on mid-protest. The protest promptly ended.
"We're tired of so many days of blackouts. Three days in a row of the same," said a man who identified himself as Edward Rafael, 18.
PROTESTS 'ACCOMPLISH NOTHING'
On Monday, about 20 students sat on the steps of the University of Havana in protest, airing grievances over blackouts and internet disruptions that have made remote learning almost impossible, as classes have been suspended during the crisis.
Long before July 11, the United States imposed the most comprehensive and longest‑running unilateral sanctions regime in the world on Cuba, largely with the intent to pressure and destabilize the Communist government in the name of promoting democracy and human rights.
The United States has further tightened the screws this year, capturing Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro, Cuba's most important patron. It then imposed a near-total oil blockade on Cuba and joined Israel in attacking another longtime Washington adversary, Iran. Trump has said his government is negotiating with Cuban leaders to reach some kind of deal, though Cuba has yet to acknowledge official talks.
While tempers may flare should the shortages grow more acute, for now some Cubans are turning their ire toward Washington, not Havana.
Nieves Fuentes Osoria, an 82-year-old woman from San Antonio de los Baños, called the U.S. embargo of Cuba a "genocide." She said Cuba would show the same type of fierce resistance as it did in the Bay of Pigs invasion of 1961, when the armed forces defeated an invasion of exiles financed and trained by the United States.
"When we're in danger, this is what we do," she said, holding up two fists. "Because I saw it on different occasions. When they tried to come through the Bay of Pigs, we stuck together."
Others took a neutral political stand but still concluded the protests went for naught.
"What did they accomplish? Nothing," said Deisy Garcia, 73. "They made a fuss, stirred up all this, and life goes on as usual."
'NOBODY WANTS TO BE IMPRISONED AGAIN'
Back in Havana, the streets of La Güinera bustled under the midday heat, despite the fuel blockade and lengthy blackouts. Pedestrians and electric motorbikes navigated the potholed streets, while barbers clipped hair with rechargeable cordless razors and food kiosks sold whatever produce was available. On this day, tomatoes were abundant at several points of sale.
Yuniel Romero, 37, doubted there would be another uprising, as he cut hair from the front porch of a high-street business.
"The people are not going to get involved because in real life nobody wants to be imprisoned again. The people have no way to defend themselves," Romero said.
Ariel Anillo, 52, sold sacks of charcoal, suddenly in demand due to a lack of cooking gas, beneath a poster of Fidel Castro.
He said most Cubans were persevering - "the lights go out for three days and nobody dies" - but the repression was also a factor.
"You know that if you go to a protest they can put you in prison for 15 to 20 years," Anillo said. "Then the situation is worse, and your family suffers."
(Reporting by Daniel Trotta in San Antonio de los Baños and Havana; Additional reporting by Alien Fernandez and Dave Sherwood. Editing by Christian Plumb and Michael Learmonth)
