Independent Journalism in Cuba: It’s Illegal – But It Happens

The state of independent journalism in Cuba could be summarised thus:  it’s illegal - but it happens.

The regime has formalised censorship through measures such as the 2019 law which penalises those who publish online content contrary to “social interest, morality, or the integrity of individuals” and the decree issued one month after 2021 protests which classifies criticism of the revolution on social media as “cybercrime.”

Other regulations define receiving funds for independent media, particularly from the US, as “mercenarism”.

According to the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ), systematic state harassment forced around 150 journalists into exile between 2022 and 2024.

And yet, every day on the island, independent journalism persists.

“When you work on sensitive issues, you have to be cautious,” said Jorge Enrique Rodríguez, a journalist for independent outlet Diario de Cuba. “But there are topics that are simply too important, and every journalist is committed to the truth. If exposing the truth means suffering, I accept it willingly.”

“My family knows that at any moment, for any reason, I could be arrested.”

Rodríguez said that he faced constant harassment, including being interrogated by political police and subjected to a travel ban.

“One of the most serious consequences of constant persecution is the attempt to isolate you within your own environment and community,” he said. “In my particular case, there has never been direct pressure on my family or friends, but I have had to avoid participating in their social projects so as not to harm them with my mere presence…Taking care of my family and friends requires constant vigilance and emotional strength. So far, none of them has abandoned ship.”

Journalist Yadiel Hernández, known as Kakashi, has also been targeted by the regime. He was detained in January 2025 while working on a story for 14ymedio investigating the sale of opium and the synthetic drug kimiko at the Enrique Hart pre-university school in Matanzas province.

“It was 20 terrible days at the State Security headquarters in the province and then almost three months in Combinado del Sur prison, facing charges that carried up to ten years in prison,” Hernández told IWPR. “Thanks to the support of institutions, human rights organisations, and independent media, the case ended with a fine of 15,000 pesos (625 US dollars). The prison experience was awful, especially when your ‘crime’ is investigating the truth.”

He remains on high alert. Another 14ymedio journalist, José Gabriel Barrenechea, was sentenced in January 2026 to six years in prison for “public disorder”.

“I know I am being watched,” Hernández continued. “My family knows that at any moment, for any reason, I could be arrested. In fact, I have a bag packed with clothes and personal hygiene items in case it happens. And I’m only talking about detention—because if something like the July 11, 2021, protests were to happen again, they could simply make me disappear, whether I’m reporting or not. It wouldn’t be the first time. My family is aware of that possibility. But in the end, the risk and the cause are worth it.”

Hernández insisted that despite the risks, journalism remained vital.

“Without wanting to sound like a martyr, you can omit certain details in a story—especially the identity of sources—but if what you omit compromises the truth or credibility of the work, then street-level independent journalism is not for you. You might as well apply for a job at [the government-run] Cubadebate.”

Hernández described internet access on the island, widespread since 2015, as enacting “a civic rupture”.

“People were once forced to believe official news; now they can choose and discern among alternative sources,” he continued. “This has become both a stimulus and a form of support for independent media, to the detriment of official outlets that have lost their hegemony among the population. The fact that people now listen to or read Cibercuba, El Toque, 14ymedio, or Árbol Invertido more than Cubadebate or even Mesa Redonda [a communist news show] is a victory and a source of joy for all of us who believe in a free press.”

The regime has attempted to crack down on this. Of 26 independent media outlets analyzed in an internal count, 12 can only be accessed from within the island via VPN. Among the blocked sites are some of the most internationally recognised, such as 14ymedio, El Toque, which provides practical information on currency exchange and remittances, and YucaByte, a platform that documents violations of freedom of expression affecting journalists and social media users critical of the government.

Exile media has also had an impact.

“It is natural that with globalisation and internet use, these content creators have become part of everyday life, especially because there is a strong Cuban community in countries like the US and Spain, with communicators who until recently lived on the island,” Hernández said.

And there is a grassroots movement on the island which champions community journalism. Small improvised newsrooms are beginning to take shape: a phone, a notebook and someone willing to tell what is happening.

For instance, since its founding in 2012, the Cuban Institute for Freedom of Expression and Press (ICLEP) has supported citizen journalism.

A core part of its work is teaching these nascent reporters how to write, verify and ask questions. In a country where access to information is limited and many sources are afraid to speak, learning to tell the truth becomes, in itself, a form of resistance.

“I feel immense joy thanks to these influencers—very young, by the way—who, from within the island, produce incredibly clear content, full of courage and remarkable intelligence,” said Rodríguez.

Through printed community bulletins, they circulate content that often does not reach people online. They report on the immediate: a hospital without resources, a neglected street, everyday injustice—topics that find no space in state media.

They also face state persecution. On its Facebook page, ICLEP reported that on March 1, 2026, its collaborators Lázaro Pérez Rodríguez and Luis Sotolongo Iglesias were arrested in Villa Clara province while distributing issue 137 of the community bulletin Páginas Villareñas. Authorities confiscated “60 printed bulletins, two mobile phones, a backpack, a bag with personal belongings, cash, and identity documents”.

This can come at a cost, however. In February 2026, content creators Ernesto Ricardo Medina and Kamil Zayas Pérez from the audiovisual El 4tico project were detained and charged with “propaganda against the constitutional order” and “incitement to commit crimes”.

Nonetheless, some believe that the tide is turning.

“In the past five years, a kind of complicity between civil society and independent journalism has taken shape,” Rodríguez explained. “The Cuban people have largely lost their fear of—and deference to—the regime. At the same time, that same population no longer feels isolated because it sees that every complaint and every testimony travels beyond the island, across borders; that even reprisals for speaking out do not fall on deaf ears. This would have been unthinkable ten years ago, when calling oneself an ‘independent journalist’ was almost like invoking a curse. The regime’s campaigns to demonize independent journalism no longer work.”