Torture in Venezuela

Lorent Saleh spent four years in two of Venezuela’s most notorious prisons. Now a free man, the human rights activist says his cause is more urgent than ever

in the early 2000s, the hugo Chávez administration began clamping down on political dissidents who criticized his populist measures, which would later push Venezuela to the brink of socioeconomic collapse— and spark the largest exodus in the Western Hemisphere.

Among the leading opposition forces was Lorent Saleh. The student leader helped organize nationwide and international protests to condemn the human rights abuses of the Chavez and, later, Nicolás Maduro regimes. In 2014, he moved to Colombia to study defense at the Superior School of War, but he ran into trouble. The country extradited Saleh back to Venezuela on the grounds that he was carrying out political activities as a tourist, a violation of Colombian law. Maduro accused him of receiving, at age

26, military training to conduct terrorist attacks in Venezuela—a claim he denies.

For the next four years, Saleh found himself behind bars in two of the most frightening intelligence facilities in Venezuela: La Tumba—spanish for “the Tomb”—and El Helicoide. Saleh’s case became worldwide news, a prime example of Maduro’s systemic human rights violations. In 2017, he received the European Parliament’s Sakharov Prize for Freedom of Thought, whose first recipient was Nelson Mandela in 1988. On October 12, the Maduro regime set Saleh, now 30, free, citing suicidal tendencies. The next day, he moved to Spain with his mother.

In an interview with Newsweek, Saleh describes his prison ordeal, what the U.S. should do to help Venezuela and why the world can’t ignore one of the worst humanitarian crises.

Do you think President Donald Trump’s sanctions on Venezuelan officials really weaken the regime?

I believe sanctions work. I asked the Spanish government to increase and deepen them as well, against not just officials but those who are affiliated with them. It’s important for Latin American countries too. An individual who unabashedly commits human rights atrocities can’t go unpunished. With the arrival of rightwing Jair Bolsonaro as the new president of Brazil next year, we could see a harder stance on Venezuela.

But Bolsonaro is a man who has praised his country’s past military dictatorship, which was also ruthless against political dissent. He may have said one thing as a candidate, but I’m sure he won’t be as radical once he assumes power.

What do you think about military action against the regime, as Trump and anti-maduro figures like former Colombian President Álvaro Uribe have suggested?

I don’t believe in an armed struggle— and mind you, I come from the most radical line of Venezuela’s opposition. A call for political willingness from the U.S. and Latin America to condemn the regime is more effective. I do believe in resistance because I helped create it in my country. In my years behind bars, they tried to break my spirit down, but they couldn’t.

Let’s talk about what you endured in two prisons—el Helicoide and La Tumba.

El Helicoide is an overcrowded, old building where you find murderers, bankers, drug traffickers and a large group of political prisoners. It is controlled by Venezuelan intelligence and is more violent. It is the epitome of physical torture and sadism.

La Tumba is a modern and sophisticated place located underground. It has a glaring white light and is a low-temperature laboratory that looks more like a madhouse because it’s used for psychological torture.

Prisoners live under 24-hour surveillance, and there’s absolutely no communication with anybody. You can feel the state’s sheer oppression; you don’t know what time it is because it doesn’t exist there, and you lose the notion of everything. It is not spearheaded by Venezuelans; you can feel the presence of Cubans and Russians there. Please explain the role of Cubans and Russians. The entire intelligence apparatus from Venezuela was handed over to the Cuban and Russian service. They have indoctrinated Venezuelan security with their social control mechanisms. We as Venezuelans know this because they have managed to create an espionage squad. However, the Venezuelan agents have grown disgruntled because they also suffer from hunger and insecurity on the streets, hence the reason they’re so violent.

How many political prisoners are there today? At least 300, but it’s hard to know an official tally, and I’ll tell you why. In El Helicoide, there are a lot of kidnapped people few in Venezuela know about. I managed to get out of jail, but another 20 or so could have been apprehended at the same time because they constantly raid houses in search of alleged enemies of the state, including journalists. Regime officials do as they please because the country restricted the entry of international human rights monitors.

The government cites that you were set free because of suicide attempts. Why do you think you got out of jail?

It’s a combination of many things. The EU awarded me the Sakharov Prize, while the Catholic Church and the U.S. and Latin American governments wielded pressure over the Maduro regime. My mother traveled across the world so that people knew about my plight. I also think my desire for freedom and due process became like a virus inside the prison.

Had Chávez survived his cancer, would Venezuela have hit rock bottom?

The crisis would have worsened. Don’t forget that Chávez was riding on high oil prices that helped finance its so-called revolution, but he was jailing and killing people, including many of my colleagues. Venezuela’s collapse and collusion with terrorist groups such as Hezbollah, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia and ISIS are the result of Chavez’s policies.

Did you ever think you would get out of prison alive?

Death was always imminent because I was at the mercy of my enemies. The same day I was handed over to the Spanish government, I thought I was going to die. Now that I live in Spain, I still wake up with the feeling that I could go to another cell at any moment. The threat is always present for those who defend human rights.

“In my years behind bars, they tried to break my spirit down, but they couldn’t.”