In a dramatic escalation of diplomatic tensions, the United States has filed charges against former Cuban President Raúl Castro, accusing him of human rights abuses spanning decades. The move, announced by the Department of Justice on Tuesday, cites evidence of systemic repression, torture, and extrajudicial killings during his tenure as both defence minister and head of state. Separately, Britain has issued a stark demand for accountability, calling on the Cuban government to open its records to international scrutiny.
For those of us who have watched the slow thaw in US-Cuba relations freeze over, this feels less like a legal procedure and more like a geopolitical grenade. The charges are unlikely to result in extradition from Havana, where Castro remains a protected figure. But the symbolic weight is immense. It signals that Washington is done with the pragmatic approach of the Obama era and is returning to the hardline stance that characterised the Cold War.
Meanwhile, London’s intervention adds a fascinating layer. Britain, historically cautious in its dealings with Cuba, has now positioned itself as a moral arbiter, a role it has increasingly adopted post-Brexit as it seeks a distinct foreign policy identity. The Foreign Office statement was precise: “We call on the Cuban authorities to ensure transparency and justice for victims of human rights violations.” This is not just about Cuba. It is a signal to other authoritarian states that Britain will wield its soft power more aggressively.
But here is the tech angle that keeps me awake at night. The charges rely heavily on digital evidence: encrypted communications from Cuban intelligence, satellite imagery of detention centres, and testimony from defectors who used blockchain-verified identity systems to safely share information. The US Department of Justice has pioneered an AI-driven platform called ‘Forensic Ledger’ that cross-references patterns of repression across decades. Think of it as a blockchain for atrocities. It is elegant technology, but it raises alarming questions. Are we entering an era where the victor in a geopolitical dispute gets to define what is a crime? And what happens when similar algorithms are turned on our own intelligence services?
Britain’s demand for accountability echoes this digital shift. The UK’s National Crime Agency has been quietly building a quantum-resistant database of human rights evidence, shared with allies through a private federated network. It is a powerful tool for justice, but it also creates a new kind of digital sovereignty. Countries that refuse to join this network can be outed, shamed, and sanctioned based on data they cannot verify or challenge.
For the average Cuban, this news is both remote and immediate. Remote because Raúl Castro is no longer in power, his brother Fidel having died years ago. Immediate because the charges and Britain’s demand could derail the fragile economic reforms that have allowed a fledgling startup scene to emerge in Havana. Young developers I speak with in the city’s co-working spaces fear a new digital blockade, where Western tech platforms cut access to Cuban users out of compliance with sanctions. The user experience of society here could regress to the dark days of the 1990s.
We must also confront the Black Mirror side of this. Is the global justice system now just another algorithmic battleground? The US charges were built on data scraped from social media, hacked servers, and CIA drone footage. Britain’s demand is backed by facial recognition tech that tracks dissidents across borders. In the rush to hold abusers accountable, we risk normalising surveillance states everywhere. The very tools that liberate can enslave.
What happens next is uncertain. Cuba will likely denounce the charges as imperialist propaganda. Britain will push for a UN investigation. The US will impose more sanctions. But the real story is the emerging architecture of digital justice, a fragmented system where the powerful use code and data to prosecute their enemies while shielding their own. As a technologist, I see both the promise and the peril. This is the future: not just of geopolitics, but of how we define truth, justice, and accountability in a networked world.
For now, Raúl Castro remains in Havana, defiant. But the algorithm of history is being rewritten, and not everyone will like the new code.
