They've taken his cane and dark glasses but not his resolve

By TRACEY EATON / The Dallas Morning News

HAVANA – His dark glasses and cane are gone. So is his Braille Bible.

Juan Carlos González, a blind political activist jailed in March, doesn't have much left. Not even his health, he tells his wife in letters from his jail cell.

But, he writes her, he'd "rather be insane or dead" than give up his fight for human rights in Cuba.

Mr. González, a 37-year-old lawyer, is among the scores of dissidents working to bring change to this country even after Cuban lawmakers in June voted to make
socialism "irreversible."

His imprisonment, virtually unknown inside Cuba, has sparked indignation among human-rights activists and the blind as far away as Washington, Brussels, Belgium;
and Capetown, South Africa.

Police arrested Mr. González and seven others on March 4 while they were protesting the reported choking of a journalist in Ciego de Ávila in central Cuba.

One officer allegedly hit the blind man with a pistol butt, causing a head wound that needed five stitches to close.

Authorities accuse Mr. González of public disorder and "disrespect," offenses punishable by up to three years in jail. He has not yet been tried. Bail has been denied
because of what authorities describe as his "dangerousness," his wife said.

He is now in a prison in Holguín, 200 miles from home. He says his health is deteriorating, and he's convinced he'll never make it out of jail alive, said his wife,
Maritza Calderin.

"He wants to run from prison screaming," she said by phone from the central city of Holguín.

Prison officials declined to comment.

Cuba has not let the Red Cross inspect prisons since 1989.

Cuban officials say many claims of prison abuse are politically motivated. Others are made by international organizations looking for approval from Washington, one
Cuban official said.

"No one's going to come out in defense of Cuba, the only communist country in the hemisphere, a place of supposed human-rights violations. It's an easy target," he
said.

Mr. González's ordeal began after he took part in a pro-democracy protest in Ciego de Ávila. Police arrived and one of them allegedly choked journalist Jesús
Álvarez. Mr. Álvarez fainted and was hospitalized. Several activists and journalists later went to the hospital, joined Mr. Álvarez and chanted, "Long live free Cuba!
Long live human rights!"

Police arrested Mr. González and at least seven others.

On March 10, authorities raided a library that Mr. González had founded. State security agents confiscated books, including several in Braille.

Robert Kent, co-chairman of Friends of Cuban Libraries, whose group supports the growing number of independent librarians in Cuba, called the case shocking.

Others agree.

The World Blind Union, which says it represents 180 million blind and visually impaired people in 162 countries, has sent two letters of protest to the Cuban
government.

"Unfortunately, we have had no answer from the Cuban authorities yet," said Kicki Nordstrom, president of the union, which plans to hold its annual meeting in
Havana in September.

The Coalition of Cuban-American Women, the human-rights group Pax Christi and Christian Solidarity Worldwide are among other organizations that have
protested Mr. González's arrest.

Ms. Calderin said her husband began suffering from claustrophobia soon after landing in jail. For at least three days, she said, he was confined to a small cell that
prisoners call "the drawer."

In an April 30 letter, Mr. González said he asked to see a doctor, preferably a psychologist.

Instead, he said, prison officials sent a psychiatrist who told him his condition would improve "if I cooperated with them."

Mr. González said he replied, "Principles are non-negotiable."

He was given a pill and three hours later said he felt severe chest pains. "I felt I was in danger of death, brain damage or irreversible insanity."

Doctors told him there was nothing wrong with him, he said.

As the weeks passed, his health worsened and he has become increasingly desperate, his wife said. "I know that I will not come out of this place alive," he wrote in a
June 25 letter.

"I beg for medical assistance and although different specialists have visited me, they don't take any tests to find out what the problem is."

Amnesty International said in its 2002 report that medical care in Cuban prisons was inadequate last year.

Medicine and supplies were scarce and although the longtime U.S. ban on trade with Cuba was a factor, "there were concerns that in some cases care was
deliberately withheld from prisoners of conscience or other political prisoners," the report said.

Prisoner Marcelo Amelo Rodriguez, 52, died while in custody in May 2001 after suffering from chest pains. His family later accused prison officials of denying him
proper care, according to Amnesty International.

Another dissident prisoner, Jorge Luis Garcia Pérez, stopped eating in April 2001 to protest the lack of medical care. He ended his monthlong strike after authorities
let him see a lung specialist, the report said.

Cuban officials say the days of political disappearances and executions have been gone for more than four decades. But there are laws, they say, and even dissidents
must obey them – or risk jail.

Mr. González says he'll continue seeking reforms, even if it kills him.

"If I die, I will die content knowing that I was defending the cause of God," he wrote. "I do not fear death."