My perspective on several matters has changed. One view that evolved naturally — and without external pressure — is that faith and political engagement need not be mutually exclusive.

Back in 2012, in “Pasajes de la Luz,” I wrote about this very subject. What I failed to grasp at the time was that the church interacts socially not only as an institution but also as a collective body of believers. In that same book — written when I was just 21 — I called for advancing Christian influence through the realm of culture.

And that is precisely what has come to pass, marked by the rise of young evangelical influencers who have emerged as the most far-reaching independent political voices on the island — a status cemented by their actions. Driven by the potency of their messaging — which fuses a Christ-centered worldview with a rejection of the socialist system — there has arisen both implicit and explicit pressure for the Cuban church as an institution to issue a clear, unequivocal political statement regarding the grave crisis currently gripping Cuba.

Should the institutional church do just that? This question — though by no means new — lies at the heart of a newly invigorated debate currently unfolding in Cuba.

Since late 2025, a significant number of Cuban church members have become highly visible figures, speaking out directly and forthrightly on political matters. Consequently, many of us began to wonder whether the institutional church itself would follow suit. The prevailing context only served to heighten these passions: the hope for freedom fueled by the Trump administration’s “maximum pressure” campaign against the Castro regime, coupled with the continuous popular protests that collectively came to be known as the “Spring of Fire,” beginning in March.

The debate currently taking place within the evangelical community is, however, of pivotal importance to the country as a whole. Why? Because the ecclesial body is one of the few entities independent of the State that operates legally within the country; it boasts a rapidly growing membership (estimated at 10% of the population); it plays a prominent role in society and possesses a proven organizational capacity for delivering humanitarian aid; and it fosters an institutional network that generates alternative modes of thought — ones distinct from the official socialist orthodoxy.

The recent controversy in Cuba regarding the church’s political engagement under a dictatorship began in the digital sphere (YouTube videos, Facebook posts, etc.) and among genuine faith leaders — those operating outside the pro-regime circuit. Some called upon the institutional church to emulate the “vocalness” of certain members, while others pushed back, asserting that the church should focus exclusively on preaching the gospel.

With few exceptions, the tone of the debate reached extremes. Discursive lines were drawn between those speaking from exile and those experiencing the rigors of totalitarianism firsthand within the island. Some went so far as to call for pastors on the island to be cut off from material aid provided by the global church; others labeled those advocating for a louder political voice as “zealots.”

A Recent History

Prioritizing direct criticism of the State versus engaging in Christian action to alleviate the problems generated by that very State has been a constant source of tension since 1959. This tension is not without cause: churches have been shuttered, Christians interned in concentration camps, and believers driven into exile or imprisoned.

Contrary to what a reductionist might assume, institutional discretion — or even silence — regarding the regime’s cruelty (distinct from the outspokenness of many individual pastors) does not, in most cases, stem from direct complicity, but rather from prudence. In the minds of many faith leaders, were the church to confront the dictatorship directly, the ensuing consequences would severely hinder the institution’s charitable work — and could even result in the loss of its legal status, along with the few benefits currently associated with its pastoral and evangelistic mission.

From a purely instrumentalist perspective: if the regime were to shut down a church building or impose even greater obstacles on the delivery of donations from the global church, how many more elderly people and children would be left without food (1, 2,)? How many more Cubans would be left without medical care (4)? How many would be left without Bibles? And what would become of the struggle for the right to life (5)? The dilemma facing ecclesial leadership under totalitarianism does not lie — either predominantly or primarily — in whether or not they agree with the regime (which the majority detests; of this, I can personally attest), but rather in the choice between surviving in order to act and the possibility of institutional demise.

Precisely for this reason, it is remarkable how the church — at the institutional level — has recently and categorically surmounted that abyss.

During the Evangelical Civic Movement (MoCE, 2018-2022) — by virtue of its practical results and mobilizing capacity — the Cuban church emerged as the leading force within civil society in opposition to Castroist policies. It highlighted the lack of freedoms within the Castroist Constitution and Family Code; it advocated for the release of prisoners of conscience; and it founded an organization operating beyond totalitarian control: the Alliance of Evangelical Churches of Cuba — an entity they still refuse to dissolve.