On August 24, 2025, Congressman Carlos Gimenez took to the airwaves via the Los Pichy Boys podcast, laying out a bold—and, some would say, contentious—plan targeting individuals linked to Cuba’s Castro regime who now reside in the United States. It’s the latest move in a long-running tug-of-war between Cuban exiles, U.S. policymakers, and the ever-tense relationship between Washington and Havana. For many in South Florida’s Cuban-American community, Gimenez’s crusade is both a rallying cry and a source of heated debate.
During the podcast, Gimenez didn’t mince words. “We are going to send more names because there are people who have been here who are part of the regime in Cuba who are now enjoying the freedom we have here in the U.S. in their retirement,” he declared, as reported by Celebritax. He followed up with a pointed message for those he sees as complicit: “If they were defending the regime in Cuba, they can stay in Cuba.” For Gimenez, the issue is as much about justice as it is about policy. “If you are going to be part of the regime, you will suffer with the people and you will not enjoy a golden retirement in the U.S.,” he insisted.
The congressman’s stance comes at a time when, according to reports from the Cuban exile community and cited by both Celebritax and other outlets, at least 100 individuals identified as former repressors connected to the Castro regime have managed to settle in the United States in recent years. Cities like Miami and Tampa have become magnets for these newcomers, some of whom are accused of human rights violations back in Cuba. Their presence has triggered strong backlash from victims of repression and human rights organizations, who argue that the U.S. risks becoming a haven for those who once persecuted their fellow citizens.
Gimenez’s approach is two-pronged. First, he’s pushing for the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to investigate and, where appropriate, deport those who lied about their backgrounds or are found to have participated in repression. At the end of July, he announced plans to submit a new list of alleged repressors, henchmen, and front men of the Cuban regime to the DHS. “These are verified allegations with evidence, and that is why actions have already been taken in several cases,” Gimenez stated on social media platform X. He’s also called on the public to help identify suspected regime affiliates, underscoring the community-driven nature of his campaign.
But Gimenez isn’t acting alone. He’s joined forces with fellow South Florida lawmakers Mario Díaz-Balart and María Elvira Salazar, who have both called for stronger actions against these individuals. The trio has urged immigration authorities to thoroughly investigate those suspected of ties to the Castro regime and to deport anyone found to have lied during the immigration process. Their message is clear: the United States should not be a sanctuary for those who, in their view, helped prop up a repressive government.
One case that has drawn particular attention is that of former Cuban Major Rogelio Bolufé. Arrested in Hialeah for possession of cocaine, Bolufé lacked both residency and a work permit in the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) is reportedly considering his deportation—not to Cuba, but to Mexico or Ecuador, according to Celebritax. The case has become a flashpoint in the broader debate over how to handle individuals with controversial pasts who have managed to enter the United States.
Gimenez’s campaign goes beyond individual cases. He’s also targeting the financial lifelines that link Cuban-Americans to their homeland. Remittances—money sent from family members in the U.S. to relatives in Cuba—have long been a crucial source of revenue for the island’s economy. But Gimenez argues that these funds prop up the regime. “Remittances must come to an end because they are part of the revenue the regime receives,” he said. He also wants to see flights between the U.S. and Cuba suspended, claiming that they facilitate business activities that ultimately benefit the Cuban government. “Many of those people go with packages, etc., to do business there,” he explained.
These proposals have sparked debate within the Cuban-American community and beyond. Supporters argue that cutting off remittances and flights would apply much-needed pressure on the Cuban government, potentially accelerating the arrival of democracy on the island. Critics, however, warn that such measures could harm ordinary Cubans, many of whom rely on money sent from relatives abroad to make ends meet. Gimenez, for his part, remains steadfast. “What we have to do is destroy that regime so that Cuba is free,” he asserted.
On the thorny issue of deportations, Gimenez has tried to strike a balance. He supports the expulsion of criminal immigrants, gang members, and those with outstanding deportation orders. However, he’s also voiced criticism of the Trump Administration’s approach, which he says went too far by deporting long-term residents with clean records. “I’m going to work within the system, with the White House. I’ve told them: ‘Hey, this isn’t right, we need to adjust this. I think it’s better if you do it this way,’” he said, according to Celebritax. His position reflects a nuanced view: tough on those he sees as threats, but mindful of the complexities facing immigrants who have built lives in the U.S.
Another hot-button topic is the Cuban Adjustment Act, a decades-old law that allows Cubans to apply for residency after a year in the United States. Gimenez has criticized the law’s use by individuals with ties to the regime, arguing that it was intended to protect those fleeing oppression, not those who perpetrated it. He’s called for stronger immigration controls to prevent regime affiliates from taking advantage of this legislation.
Gimenez’s efforts have found both support and opposition across the political spectrum. Some see his campaign as a necessary stand against impunity and a way to reinforce the values of freedom and democracy. Others caution that the measures could be overly broad, risk targeting the wrong people, or inadvertently punish innocent families. The debate also touches on broader questions: How should the U.S. balance its commitment to human rights with the realities of immigration and community ties? Can tough policies against a foreign regime avoid collateral damage at home?
As the conversation continues, one thing is clear: the issue isn’t going away. With Miami and Tampa home to large and vocal Cuban-American populations, and the future of U.S.-Cuba relations perpetually up for debate, Congressman Gimenez’s initiative is set to remain in the spotlight. Whether it leads to lasting change or further controversy, it’s a story that will keep unfolding in the months—and perhaps years—to come.