The publication of a list of 1,028 Cuban citizens recruited by the Russian army to participate in the invasion of Ukraine has brought back to light one of the most serious international scandals involving the Havana regime.
The source, the Ukrainian project “I Want to Live”, has revealed names, ages, documentation, and dates of enlistment that confirm a massive and sustained pattern of recruitment, where deception, poverty, state complicity, and desperation intertwine.
This article inaugurates a research dossier by CiberCuba on the phenomenon of Cuban mercenaries in Ukraine, based on the review of 96 notes on the subject published in the last two years and the detailed analysis of the table leaked by Ukrainian activists. Here, the responses begin.
A list that changes everything
The publication of the list of Cuban mercenaries recruited by the Russian army marks a turning point in the official narrative of the Cuban regime.
For months, testimonies from defectors, reports from Ukraine, and complaints on social media were dismissed or labeled as media manipulation. But this list—containing names, surnames, dates of birth, and passport numbers—confirms point by point what many already knew but could not prove with documents in hand.
Now, the identities of the mercenaries match the names that have made the news: those killed on the frontlines, captured by the Ukrainian army, or stranded in Russian camps after being deceived. What were once scattered traces of a scandal now becomes a complete, verifiable, undeniable map.
But the list not only confirms what was suspected. It demands a response. Because if a Cuban citizen—identified by their national passport—has signed a military contract with a foreign power at war, the Cuban State is legally and politically obligated to take action.
In Cuba, "mercenarism" is not only illegal: it is classified as a serious crime. However, so far there has not been a single public investigation into the hundreds of young people who appear in that registry, and the investigation that was announced has been buried in official silence.
Why? Because responding would imply acknowledging that they were allowed to leave the country with proper documents. That their travels were not clandestine. That someone turned a blind eye. In a country where one must declare the reasons for travel to request a passport, the surge of Cubans who applied for their travel documents to go to Russia should have raised alarms.
And there is the third twist imposed by this list: the evidence of structural complicity. How is it possible that so many young people, some as young as 18 or 19 years old, have been recruited by military mafias, obtained their passports in record time, and flown to Moscow from Cuban airports without the State being aware? The most plausible answer is the most uncomfortable: they knew. They allowed it. And perhaps they facilitated it.
Meanwhile, families remain silent, trapped between fear and shame. There is no press freedom for them to speak out. There are no public defenders to protect them. But now, with the list revealed, they can know. They can identify their sons, brothers, or grandchildren. They can begin to demand answers.
That is the true power of this document. It not only reveals a scandal. It breaks the silence. It points out responsibilities. And it forces the totalitarian power, which has caused the structural misery that has driven this criminal network, to confront its own people.
A silent recruitment network
Since the beginning of 2023, the Russian Federation has been actively recruiting Cuban citizens to send them to fight in Ukraine.
The operation is based on an enticing offer for those living trapped in precarious conditions: contracts of up to $2,500 per month, promises of housing, and Russian citizenship.
But all that framework has traps: the documents are written in Russian, the signatories do not understand what they are signing, and the transfer to military zones happens without warning. According to published testimonies, for many, the war began upon arriving at a base where they were assigned a bulletproof vest, a rifle, and a combat order.
The public revelation of this network barely caused a stir within Cuba. In September 2023, the Ministry of the Interior (MININT) detained 17 individuals, accused of participating in recruitment activities. Their names and charges were not disclosed. There were no transparent judicial processes or official coverage.
For Cuban and international analysts, the government's silence was part of the mechanism: the regime not only knew about the network, but also tolerated it — and possibly even sponsored it.
There are indications that support this thesis scattered in statements, contradictions, and absences. On one hand, the Cuban ambassador in Moscow, Julio Antonio Garmendía Peña, stated in an interview that his government "did not oppose" citizens of Cuba joining the Russian army.
That phrase raised alarms, but did not provoke an immediate rectification. It was days later that the Cuban Foreign Minister, Bruno Rodríguez Parrilla, issued an institutional statement in which he denied any tolerance for mercenarism, distancing the government from any responsibility.
However, the facts contradicted the chancellor. Several lieutenants from the Revolutionary Armed Forces (FAR) had been identified as officers of squads made up of Cubans in training centers in Ryazan, Russia. Some appeared in videos sent by the recruits themselves, acknowledging their leadership role and stating that everyone left the country legally, “with a contract and passport”.
On the Russian side, the signals were equally eloquent. The Russian ambassador in Havana, Victor Koronelli, publicly acknowledged that his government had held discussions with the Cuban authorities regarding the presence of Cubans in the Russian army.
A Russian colonel, identified as Román Andreyevich Borsuk, the alleged commander of the 137th Airborne Regiment in Military Unit 41450 of the Russian army in the city of Ryazan, was mentioned as the direct commander of Cuban fighters in military operational areas.
For his part, Serguéi Lavrov, the Foreign Minister of the Kremlin, expressed gratitude to the Cuban regime for its "full understanding" of the conflict in Ukraine, while also insisting on expanding economic and logistical cooperation with the Island, even requesting assistance for Russian operators in Cuban territory.
Everything suggests that this recruitment network was neither spontaneous nor informal. Its continuity, diplomatic support, and silent protection make it a structure that has operated with bureaucratic efficiency, but without a public face. A discreet and effective machinery to export cannon fodder from the island to a foreign war.
Anatomy of a List: Ages, Patterns, and Dates
The chart revealed by the "Quiero vivir" project not only exposes the names of the recruited Cubans, but also allows for the mapping of a demographic and operational profile of the phenomenon.
The first thing that stands out is the age: the average at the time of recruitment was 36 years, but the range is broad and revealing. There are young individuals as young as 18 years old—like Joender Raúl Mena Álvarez-Builla and Alfredo Cámaras Benavides, both born in 2005—and also older adults over 60 years old.
In total, there are eight cases over 60 years old, and 129 cases between 50 and 60 years old, a disturbing figure considering we are talking about a high-intensity conflict.
The highest peak is at 32 years, closely followed by the ranges from 30 to 38 years. There is a clear concentration between the ages of 24 and 47, which represents the main core of the group.
Starting from the age of 47, the curve declines, although there is still a significant presence of men aged 50 to 60. The recruitment of young people under 22 is minimal, but not non-existent.
The youngest, interestingly, were the first to speak out. Two teenagers, newly arrived in Russia, recorded the video that unveiled the scandal, their faces still marked by fear and confusion. Their testimony was not just a denunciation: it was a crack in the wall of silence.
Regarding the dates, the pattern is equally troubling. July and August 2023, as well as January and February 2024, stand out as months with high hiring peaks, suggesting that the recruitment process operated in organized waves rather than as an isolated phenomenon.
Most recruits come from precarious civilian and labor environments. They were lured by promises of work as construction workers, mechanics, and security guards.
But upon arriving in Rostov, Tula, or Ryazan, they were confronted with a different reality: they received bulletproof vests and weapons, were housed in military bases, and those who dared to refuse were beaten or sent directly to assault units. This was narrated, in tears, by the captured Frank Darío Jarrosay Manfuga, one of the first to testify from Ukrainian territory.
Alive, captured, and dead: The faces of recruitment
The list contains names, but behind those names are stories—and different destinies. Some are alive, others have been captured, and many have died in silence, far from home.
Among those captured is Jarrosay Manfuga, who became one of the most compelling testimonies regarding how the network operates. In his account before Ukrainian cameras, he explained that he signed without knowing what he was up against, believing he would be going to work in construction.
The young man, originally from Guantánamo, requested assistance to avoid being returned to either Cuba or Russia and reported that his unit contained at least 35 more Cuban mercenaries.
But not everyone lived to tell the tale. Some died in battle and were identified through documents found among the rubble, such as Leonel Duquesne Fundichely, as reported by Martí Noticias in July 2024, and Denis Frank Pacheco Rubio.
Others, such as Raibel Palacio Herrera, simply vanished. His body was buried in a mass grave after a bombing, as reported by European media and Ukrainian activists.
Francisco García Ariz, on the other hand, was one of the few who managed to escape and testified from Greece, where he was trying to obtain asylum after deserting the Russian army. His name does not appear on the list released by Ukrainian intelligence, which estimates the number of Cuban mercenaries recruited by Russia to be around 20,000.
These stories give a face to the list. They are not just names printed on a table: they are lives caught between the promise of a future and the brutality of a war that was never theirs.
The human and political cost
Beyond the deaths, the phenomenon has revealed a system that excludes, pushes, and sacrifices young Cubans. In several testimonies, the parents of those recruited state that MININT officials knew what their children were planning and did not intervene.
Ukraine, for its part, has reported to international organizations that the Cuban regime pretends to be unaware of the situation, while indirectly collaborating by not sanctioning human trafficking or demanding the return of its citizens.
The systematic use of "cannon fodder" in what are known as meat storms —mass suicide attacks— has led dozens of Cubans to lose limbs or their lives in fields they do not know, for a war that is not theirs.
The call of "I Want to Live"
The Ukrainian project that revealed the list is actively maintaining a campaign for foreign soldiers to surrender voluntarily.
On their networks, they spread messages like this: "No matter what 'golden mountains' recruiters promise you. It all usually ends in death. Save yourself. Give up."
Phones, Telegram channels, and contacts are available to help any Cuban who wants to desert the Russian army and save their life.
- Save your life and surrender to captivity: t. Yo/espacioporabot
- Calls to +38 044 350 89 17 and 688 (from Ukrainian numbers)
- Write to Telegram or WhatsApp
- +38 095 688 68 88
- +38 093 688 68 88
- +38 097 688 66 88
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