The irony of a › Cuba › Granma

Cuba is a country that has lost 3,478 of its children, while another 2,099 live with disabilities caused by bombs that arrived from the north. Behind every number lies a family torn apart. Yet, in an incomprehensible and absurd irony, Cuba is branded a threat and a state sponsor of terrorism, even though the acts that have caused it to bleed for over six decades were plotted, financed, and carried out from within the very circles of those who now point the finger at it.

Think of the *La Coubre* incident in March 1960. The port of Havana turned into an inferno. There were 101 dead and more than 200 injured. It was not mere numbers that died there; it was dockworkers, firefighters, and rescue workers—young people who had been loading crates and ended up trapped beneath twisted metal. There were families who could not bury their dead whole.

Think of the Cubana de Aviación plane that exploded over Barbados in 1976. There were 73 fatalities, including 24 young fencers returning from competition—coming with medals and dreams. Instead, they arrived in coffins. A five-year-old boy learned his father had died when his sister walked into his preschool classroom and broke the news. His mother was left alone—a young woman with three children. That scene played out in dozens of households. Parents waiting for an arrival that never happened. Sweethearts waiting for an embrace. Friends waiting for a phone call. Instead, they were all met with a void...

Consider Fabio Di Celmo, the Italian tourist who died in 1997 when a bomb exploded at a Havana hotel. He was 32 years old. He was neither a politician nor a soldier; he was just a young man on vacation. His father died years later without ever seeing true justice for his son—justice that should have prosecuted not only the person who committed the act but also those who financed it from afar. How many shattered lives can fit onto a terrorism list?

A bomb does not kill only the person who dies; it leaves an indelible mark on those left behind. That is the true toll of state- terrorism.

And while those Cuban families bear the burden, the country that sent the bombs accuses them of being a "threat." There is no crueler paradox. It is amply documented that organizations such as Alpha 66, Omega 7, Comandos F4, and CORU operated openly on U.S. soil, stockpiling weapons and launching attacks against Cuba without effective intervention from the FBI or the Department of Justice. Luis Posada Carriles and Orlando Bosch—the masterminds behind the bombing of the Cubana airliner—lived out their lives and died peacefully in Miami. The evidence of impunity is right there. No mystery. No speculation. The terrorists lived in the United States. The terrorism was planned in the United States. And yet, it is Cuba that stands accused.

I saw some of those terrorists face-to-face at that Summit of the Americas in Panama—an event they sought to turn into a battleground against this Island—wearing impeccable suits and campaign smiles, posing as freedom fighters; and I can assure you that not even a fine suit can mask a murderer...

Terrorism is not ancient history. In 2026, a vessel departed from the Florida Keys and reached the Cuban coast carrying armed men who opened fire on our border guards. The operation was organized and financed from Miami. Terrorism has not ceased; it has merely changed form. It continues to arrive from the north; it still relies on accomplices, financiers, and silence.

The list of State Sponsors of Terrorism is no harmless document. It intensifies the blockade, drives away investment, shuts down banking access, and drives up the cost of food and medicine. It punishes the people. How can one tell a mother whose son was taken by terrorism that the very state that sheltered the murderers maintains a list to judge—by its own standards—those it deems terrorists?

On every October 6th—and indeed on every day of the year—Cuba does not ask for charity; it asks for justice. It demands that those who sowed terror not be funded, protected, or rewarded. It calls for remembrance. For as long as the victim is accused of being the perpetrator, that perverse inversion of the narrative exacts a heavy and painful toll on the lives of an entire people.