What effect does government policy have on individual people? Can it truly shape how families live their lives? Policy change often comes so slowly that it’s nearly imperceptible. But even government policies we can’t perceive can have enormous — and often devastating — impact over time. Take, for example the effect of a recent policy change in Cuba.

The Cuban Family Code, approved by referendum on September 25, 2022, is a law that regulates family relations on the island, replacing the previous version, in force since 1975. Following the woke trend of the early 21st century, the Castro regime presented it as a more “inclusive,” “modern,” and progressive law (which is not the same as progress). On the other hand, it was the subject of criticism and nonviolent resistance from civil society, from sectors opposed to or distant from the regime, among which the evangelical church, its members, and leaders stood out.

Perhaps the most polarizing content of the debate was the redefinition of the institution of marriage, including the “right” to adoption; the concept of parental responsibility, which replaced the concept of “parental authority” and undermined the authority of parents; assisted filiation, which commodifies the lives of babies; the so-called Protection of Elderly and Vulnerable Persons, which in reality removed the state from the responsibility of caring for the elderly and placed the entire burden on the impoverished Cuban family; and the introduction of the gender perspective (or ideology) in various spheres.

With this new ideological charge, which would refresh the face of the outdated and cruel Soviet Marxism on the island, the regime sought to clean up its image so that the West would applaud it, with access to funds, in the concert of nations that “respected” human rights.

The regime actively promoted the “yes” vote, while continuing to repress political and social freedoms. In this context, several pastors opposed to the code even ended up detained or threatened with imprisonment. Evangelical leadership in favor of the “no” vote was key to the law’s passage with 66.87% of valid votes. The referendum had the lowest approval rating in nearly 70 years. On the other hand, feminist, LGBT, and socialist activists, and even several independent media outlets, supported the “yes” vote or some of the code’s political guidelines, aligning themselves, de facto, with the dictatorship.

Now, would the code affect the rights of Cubans, or was it simply conservative fearmongering? Weeks after its passage, state official Manuel Vázquez Seijido attacked, using inclusive language, the freedom of conscience of the island’s jurists:

“Any refusal by notaries or civil registrars to formalize marriages or register unions constitutes a violation of individual rights. I urge those who experience this type of refusal to file the appropriate complaints with the competent authorities. This exercise will help legal system structures gain insight into what happens in practice and, therefore, correct these types of errors.”

What did the “correction” entail? Dismissals, fines, public reprimands? The law did not include the right to conscientious objection, and the 2019 Constitution criminalized it. In April 2023, Katherin Acosta was summoned by the PNR (National Police). Her fragile body was taken to a police vehicle, and she was interrogated by officers from the Camagüey Office for the Care of Minors. All of this was in retaliation for the anti-Castro stance of her mother, Marisol Peña Cobas, who was threatened with being stripped of her “parental responsibility” under the new code. Katherin was seven years old.

A month earlier, the military had charged Peña Cobas with “acts against the normal development of the minor.” Her ordeal arose from issues of conscience, the right the Ministry of Culture had claimed from the beginning: according to the State, she failed to instruct her daughter to respect and love the Castros and “President” Miguel Díaz-Canel. “God is the supreme being and does not force any human being to worship him, because he gave us free will. No man on Earth has the right or the power to force other humans to love and respect him, much less if they are not worthy of the love and respect they demand,” wrote Peña Cobas.

In June, the police forced her to flee Cuba with her husband and daughter; if she didn’t, they threatened her: “They would take our daughter from us.” They sold their belongings, paid for a flight to Nicaragua, and, following a route infested with criminal gangs and corrupt military personnel, reached the southern border of the United States.

Pastor Arcadis Solano Silvera of the Fourth Baptist Church in Santiago de Cuba experienced a similar situation. In 2022, a political police officer threatened to send his eldest son, then 15, to perform Mandatory Military Service (SMI), citing Article 6 of the code: minors “may not be separated from their mothers, fathers, and relatives, unless determined by the competent authorities in special circumstances.” The family went into exile.

Another case: Since October 2023, preschool teachers and administrators pressured five-year-old Ruth, daughter of Pastor Raciel Vega Matos of the Family Christian Baptist Church of Cerro and Primelles, Havana, for bringing her Bible to school and singing Christian songs during recess. Later, they pressured Ruth for refusing to participate in Halloween celebrations, acts praising the Revolution, or reciting the school slogans “With Fidel’s guidance, for the Homeland and Socialism, Moncada fighters always ready!” and “Pioneers for Communism, we will be like Che Guevara!”

As punishment, they moved her desk away from other children, who were forbidden to speak to her. Ruth developed psychological disorders and a school phobia that forced her parents to remove her from the system in March 2024 and homeschool her. Since Cuba does not allow this method, they were threatened with losing custody of their daughter, citing the code. On July 23, 2024, the family fled the country.

In May 2025, the Directorate of Family Protection and Jurisdictional Affairs warned, using the code, that parents who refused to instill in their children “the educational work inherent to the National Education System or who failed to fulfill their duties related to respect and love for the Homeland” could lose custody.

Were these the rights guaranteed by the code that a feminist organization was talking about? Was this the more just country predicted by Díaz-Canel and LGBT activists? The supporters remained silent in the face of the code’s real effects.