Imagine a regime enforcer, caught on video brutalizing peaceful protesters, slipping into the U.S. only to be sent packing by immigration authorities.
That’s the story of Daniel Morejón García, a Cuban Interior Ministry official and Communist Party member, who was deported by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) in late May after being arrested in April for concealing his role in suppressing anti-communist protests in Cuba back in July 2021.
Let’s rewind to those protests on July 11, 2021, when thousands of Cubans across major cities demanded an end to over six decades of communist rule.
Morejón García, once head of the National Defense Council in Artemisa province, was no bystander; he was part of the regime’s rapid response brigades tasked with silencing dissidents.
Breitbart reported that videos from that day show him assaulting a peaceful protester, Armando Martínez Luis, in Artemisa, who was later slapped with an eight-year prison sentence for daring to defend himself.
The Foundation for Human Rights in Cuba (FHRC) also pins the unjust arrests and convictions of two other men, Rolando González Arévalo and Richael Cantún Morales, on Morejón García’s actions during that brutal crackdown.
Fast forward, and somehow this enforcer landed in Miami, reportedly living at his daughter’s home, as flagged by Cuban diaspora members to FHRC and shared across social media.
ICE wasn’t amused when their investigation uncovered that he’d hidden his communist ties and repressive past to enter the U.S., leading to his arrest in April.
“Daniel Morejón García is an unauthorized migrant from Cuba who failed to disclose his Interior Ministry role or his actions against protesters during the 11J events,” an ICE spokesperson told Martí Noticias, laying bare the deception that got him nabbed.
By late May, Morejón García was on a plane back to Cuba, a move that some hope sends a message to other regime loyalists eyeing U.S. shores.
“Those serving long sentences in Cuba for demanding freedom will feel at least a shred of justice knowing that this oppressor is no longer on U.S. soil,” Luis Domínguez told Martí Noticias—a sentiment that carries weight for those still suffering under Havana’s iron fist.
Yet, back in Las Cañas, Artemisa, where he once ran a state-owned factory, residents report he’s already intimidating those who helped expose him, a chilling reminder of the regime’s reach.
“We are told he has threatened witnesses and is seen with a ministry agent,” Domínguez added to Martí Noticias, suggesting Morejón García has cozy ties with state security still intact—hardly a surprise for a system built on fear.
This case isn’t isolated; Rep. Carlos Giménez (R-FL) handed a list of over 100 known Cuban repressors who’ve slipped into the U.S. to Homeland Security, spotlighting how lax border policies under the prior administration opened the door for such figures.