Roberto Mosquera del Peral, a 58-year-old Cuban once living in Miami, now finds himself locked in a maximum-security prison in the small African kingdom of Eswatini. His story, as reported by AFP and echoed by numerous human rights advocates, has become a flashpoint in a broader debate about U.S. deportation policies, Cuba’s complicated diplomatic posture, and the shadowy role of Cuban nationals in international conflicts.
Mosquera’s journey from South Florida to a prison cell halfway across the world began with a history of criminal convictions in the United States. According to AFP, he was sentenced to nine years in prison for attempted murder in July 1989 after shooting a man in the leg, released in 1996, and then imprisoned again in 2009 for car theft and assaulting a security officer. But those who know him, like his childhood friend Ana, insist that Mosquera changed his life after his release: “He got married, had four beautiful daughters. He spoke out against gang violence and has a family that adores him,” Ana told AFP. She described his deportation as “atrocious,” calling it a “death sentence.”
In July 2025, Mosquera was among five migrants deported to Eswatini by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). ICE announced his arrest in Miami, stating that he had convictions for homicide, aggravated assault on a police officer with a weapon, and aggravated assault causing bodily injury or disability in Miami-Dade, Florida. But the circumstances of his deportation have raised serious concerns. Mosquera’s lawyer, Tin Thanh Nguyen, described the situation as a “legal black hole,” telling AFP that the deportees are ensnared in “a modern human trafficking operation, using official channels.”
Why Eswatini? The answer lies in a controversial U.S. policy, first implemented under the Trump administration, which allows the deportation of migrants whose countries of origin refuse to accept them. In Mosquera’s case, Cuba—despite being required to accept deported citizens—systematically rejects those with serious criminal records. As a result, the U.S. has struck agreements with countries like Eswatini to accept such deportees, a practice that has been criticized by international human rights organizations for its lack of legal guarantees and transparency.
Mosquera’s daily reality in Eswatini is bleak. He is held in a maximum-security facility, allowed only brief video calls with his family, always under the watchful eyes of armed guards. During a recent call, his family noticed he had lost significant weight and hair—a sign, they say, of the harsh conditions and emotional toll. “This has affected us all,” Ana said, her voice trembling.
But Mosquera’s personal ordeal is just one thread in a much larger tapestry of geopolitical tension and human migration. While his family and legal advocates fight for his rights from afar, Cuba is embroiled in another international controversy: accusations from the United States and Ukraine that it is supplying mercenaries to fight for Russia in the ongoing war in Ukraine.
On October 12, 2025, the Cuban Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued a forceful denial of these charges, calling them “baseless and politically motivated.” According to RBC Ukraine, Havana insisted that it has not sent military personnel to Ukraine or any other country, and has no verified information about Cuban citizens independently joining armed formations in the conflict. “Such acts are classified as serious crimes and are subject to severe penalties,” the Cuban government stated, referencing its zero-tolerance policy toward mercenarism, human trafficking, and participation in armed conflicts abroad.
Indeed, from 2023 to 2025, Cuban courts reviewed nine cases of mercenarism involving 40 defendants, with 26 individuals sentenced to prison terms ranging from five to fourteen years. The Cuban government emphasized that the recruitment of Cubans for combat in Ukraine was conducted by foreign organizations, not by any official Cuban institutions, and that most of those prosecuted were outside of Cuba when recruited.
Despite these denials, Western intelligence agencies and Ukrainian officials paint a different picture. According to Newsmax, Ukrainian military intelligence estimates that as many as 25,000 Cubans could be fighting for Russia, making them the largest foreign force in the conflict. Andriy Yusov, a spokesman for Ukraine’s military intelligence, told U.S. lawmakers, “It is beneficial for Putin’s regime to attract Cuban mercenaries. So if a foreigner dies, there are no social payouts and no responsibility.”
The financial incentives are impossible to ignore. Russia reportedly offers Cuban recruits salaries around $2,000 a month—almost 100 times the average wage in Cuba. “The economics alone make this a powerful draw,” Cristina Lopez-Gottardi Chao, a Cuba expert at the University of Virginia, told Newsmax. Some analysts, like Alexander Motyl of Rutgers University, argue that the arrangement is both economic and ideological: “If they die, their widows will be rich. If they live, they’ll be rich heroes. It also allows Havana to poke Washington in the eye by aligning more openly with Moscow.”
U.S. officials, for their part, believe the scale of recruitment would be impossible without at least tacit approval from Cuban authorities, despite Havana’s repeated denials. An internal U.S. State Department cable dated October 2, 2025, cited by Reuters, estimated that between 1,000 and 5,000 Cubans were fighting in Ukraine on Russia’s side. Ukrainian lawmaker Oleksandra Ustinova added that they had “literally have their passports as proof.”
The recruitment of foreign fighters is not limited to Cuba. British intelligence estimates that Russian casualties have now surpassed one million, forcing Moscow to draw on manpower from Africa, Latin America, and Central Asia. Western intelligence views these deployments as part of an authoritarian alliance linking Russia, North Korea, Iran, Venezuela, and Cuba. “Every foreign unit that rotates through Ukraine is learning how to fight in the world’s first large-scale drone war,” said Bill Cole, CEO of the Peace Through Strength Institute, in Newsmax. “That’s the danger.”
Back in Cuba, the government maintains that it has prosecuted those found to be involved in mercenarism, and that any recruitment was orchestrated by foreign entities. Yet, the Trump administration reportedly used allegations about Cuban fighters in Ukraine—claiming more than 5,000 Cubans were fighting alongside Russia—as a justification to maintain the decades-old embargo against the island nation.
All the while, individuals like Roberto Mosquera remain caught in the crossfire of these geopolitical maneuvers. His story, marked by personal transformation and now, profound suffering, serves as a stark reminder of the human costs behind the headlines and policy decisions that span continents. As governments trade accusations and denials, the fate of those like Mosquera—and the thousands of Cubans whose lives have been upended by forces far beyond their control—hangs in the balance.
