Son's Defiant Loyalty to Regime After Father's Death in Venezuela

The son of Luis Manuel Jardines Castro, one of the 32 Cuban military personnel who lost their lives on January 3rd in Caracas, expressed unwavering allegiance to the Castro regime during a state television broadcast.

"I'm proud of him for fighting in Venezuela alongside Maduro," he declared.

Jardines Castro, who served as a driver in the Revolutionary Armed Forces (FAR), would have turned 60 on January 30th.

When prompted by a journalist about his father's role in defending Nicolás Maduro and the so-called "Bolivarian revolution," his son, who shares his father's name, agreed without hesitation.

"Absolutely. Let this example inspire everyone, the entire Cuban populace," he remarked.

The young man also expressed his willingness to follow in his father's footsteps. "I will continue his legacy. If I need to fight in Venezuela too, I'll go when the time is right," he emphasized.

This testimony was presented as a symbol of pride, generational continuity, and political commitment.

Yet, beyond the heroic tone, these words highlight a harsh truth the Cuban regime tries to obscure: these soldiers weren't defending Cuba, but rather protecting a foreign dictator, Nicolás Maduro, in an operation that led to their capture.

The narrative of heroism starkly contrasts with the reality of a mission directly tied to securing the political power of the chavista regime.

Another relative of Jardines Castro echoed this sentiment on television. "We feel pride. He was a revolutionary and represented our country. We understand Venezuela's significance for us. A brotherly nation, and if needed, we will go again."

Official coverage repeatedly stressed that the people's attendance at the tribute was spontaneous and voluntary.

This emphasis is no coincidence. It comes at a time when the government is facing its worst credibility crisis in decades, with the population burdened by constant blackouts, food and medicine shortages, inflation, and deep social unrest.

In this context, the government needs to project images of support and unity. Therefore, the media insists that people attend "of their own free will" and that the families speak out of pride, even amidst grief.

What is not as clearly stated is that these men were in Caracas defending an authoritarian regime, not participating in a humanitarian cause. The heroic narrative crafted by state media seeks to transform a political security operation into a tale of patriotic sacrifice.

In this narrative, the words of Jardines Castro's widow were also broadcast. "I know he didn't die at the best of times, but he did it with pride, with courage," she said on camera.

She added that he had been on a mission in Venezuela for a year, was "very happy," and eager to continue working there. "Whenever we talked, he always expressed joy and pride in the work he was doing."

She insisted he was there by choice, "ready to do whatever was necessary," and never complained.

"If he were here, he'd say: 'If I have to do it again, I will,' because those were his beliefs," she asserted.

Her words fit perfectly with the narrative the state needs to portray: men convinced, happy, and grateful for being on that mission.

Beyond the emotional tone and genuine sorrow of a wife, her statements align seamlessly with the script the state strives to project: committed men, content and appreciative of their mission.

The television coverage also focused on the "people's" reaction. The widow noted that she saw in the crowd "almost the same sorrow" as among the families and that many waited until the last moment to pay their respects.

This image of spontaneous crowds is crucial for the state narrative, which needs to demonstrate social support amid widespread discontent.

Behind this staged scene, however, lies an uncomfortable truth: Cuba had officers deployed in Caracas supporting a foreign power in crisis.

The testimonies of both the families and the soldiers who survived the attack confirm that their presence was not merely symbolic or advisory but involved operational engagement.

Thus, while television emphasizes the epic and the continuation of the "example," the deaths of the 32 military personnel reveal the real extent of Cuba's commitment to chavismo.

A commitment that goes beyond speeches, resulting in men sent to die far from home, shattered families, and a human cost that the regime turns into propaganda.