Over the decades, Cuba has had many, many brave and inspiring dissidents. Workers for democracy (and martyrs for democracy). One of them is Oswaldo Payá. He is best known for the Varela Project, which was a petition drive. It made waves in Cuba and beyond. It got critical support from former U.S. president Jimmy Carter when he visited Cuba in 2002. Later that year, the European Union awarded Payá its Sakharov Prize for Freedom of Thought.

Payá, who was born in 1952, died in 2012. He was killed in a car crash, along with a young colleague, Harold Cepero. In the years since, his supporters have said this was murder — murder by the state. The car had been run off the road. Just a month before, Payá and his wife, Ofelia Acevedo, had barely survived a similar crash.

This is what the Cuban state, like other dictatorships, does, right? Murder its critics and opponents.

The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, which is an autonomous branch of the Organization of American States, has conducted an investigation and issued a report. A key sentence: “. . . the Commission considers that there is serious and sufficient evidence to conclude that State agents participated in the death of Mr. Payá and Mr. Cepero.”

Meanwhile, in Washington, the U.S. Senate unanimously passed a bill to rename the street outside the Cuban embassy “Oswaldo Payá Way.”

I have known Payá’s daughter, Rosa María, for years. She is a chip off the old block: a very brave campaigner for freedom and democracy. I saw her last week at the Oslo Freedom Forum. I said, “I look forward to an ‘Oswaldo Payá Way’ in Havana. With a monument to him on it.” She gave me her warm, bright smile.

She has been told a million times, “Your father would be so proud of you.” In Oslo, I repeated this. She said, “I’m not so sure, really.” He had very high standards! But I feel sure that Payá would be extraordinarily proud of Rosa María — beaming at her with admiration.

I told Rosa María and a colleague of hers, Alejandro Cajas, that I hoped to visit Havana someday — Havana in a free Cuba. Who knows? Very few expected the Soviet Union to fall (although Putin, true, has re-Sovietized Russia). As we were parting, Alejandro called out to me, “See you in Havana!”

• In Oslo, I met a man named “Zvonko Matković.” Typical Latin American name, right? He is a Bolivian, who had, I believe, a Croatian grandfather. He is an extraordinary man — full of principle and courage. Zvonko spent eight years in prison, and two under house arrest. He told me that, in Bolivia, an oppositionist typically has one of three fates: prison, exile, or murder.

We who live in free countries are incredibly fortunate to do so.

• An interesting tidbit — something I learned from a participant at the Freedom Forum. In Ukraine, as you know, there are several foreign battalions. People have come from all over, to help the Ukrainians. One such group is the Bolívar Battalion, composed of South Americans.

We have had some foreign help ourselves, here in the United States. The three most lustrous names, I suppose, are “Lafayette,” “Kościuszko,” and “Steuben.”

• I have heard many eye-popping stories in my life — stories of bravery, persistence, survival. A good number of them have come from South Sudanese. I am thinking of “Lost Boys,” in particular.

In Oslo, I met Manasseh Mathiang, who is a singer and peace campaigner. He is in exile from South Sudan. He told me something arresting: No one in South Sudan is without experience of war. Everyone there has experienced war at some time or another. This leaves a population of traumatized people, basically.

“I’m an activist because of my children,” Manasseh said. The eldest of them is nine. “I want him to be able to go to college in South Sudan.” What a beautiful sentiment — to be an activist because of your children.

• A Chinese friend of mine — a democracy advocate — told me something that made me smile: “People tend to forget the ‘Chinese Chinese,’ and their need for freedom! We spend a lot of time on Uyghurs, Hong Kongers, and Tibetans, as we should. But the ‘Chinese Chinese’ need help too!”

So true.

• In Oslo, Garry Kasparov wore an interesting lapel pin: It showed a flag, with three horizontal stripes — white, blue, and white. Some people are proposing this as the new Russian flag. Kasparov told a pertinent story, from more than 30 years ago.

You remember that he was a great chess champion — No. 1 in the world for 255 months (21 years and change). He is also a great human-rights champion. Today, he says, he is an amateur chess player — “but the strongest amateur player in the world.”

In 1990, he played Anatoly Karpov, his great rival, for the world championship. There were twelve games in New York, twelve games in Lyons. Karpov was the darling of the Kremlin and Kasparov a rebel and upstart.

Kasparov refused to compete under the Soviet flag — the hammer and sickle. And he did not. He competed under the banner of the old Russian tri-color. His mother stayed up all night making it.

If I heard Kasparov correctly, an American anchorwoman, on morning television, asked him why he had brought in the flag of Luxembourg. I can’t really blame the lady, however: Most of us were unfamiliar with the Russian tri-color at that point.

Karpov complained about the presence of this strange Russian flag. After four games, the chess federation, FIDE, made a ruling: There would be no flag — neither Karpov’s hammer and sickle nor Kasparov’s tri-color.

So, in effect, Kasparov won (as he would win the championship).

These days, he and others are of the view that the red stripe ought to be washed out of the Russian flag. There has been too much blood. Too much terror, war, corruption. Let Russia have a fresh start with a fresh flag.

Interesting idea.

• After he appeared at the Oslo Freedom Forum, Kasparov spoke at the Truman Library, in Missouri. He is that president’s namesake. Kasparov’s father was an admirer of Truman. In a Russian mouth, “Harry” is “Garry.” A Russian kid, says Kasparov, will refer to J. K. Rowling’s protagonist as “Garry Potter.”

And “Heller”/”Geller”? Same name.

To watch Kasparov’s Truman Library speech, go here. Excellent, excellent presentation.

• Have another dose of Kasparov:

• At the Oslo Freedom Forum, there were some musical performances, including one by Rana Mansour, who is an American of Iranian descent. She cares a great deal about human rights in Iran (where she has never been). She champions the cause of Iranian protesters in her music.

Before she started, she said, “I’m not used to singing this early in the morning.” It was about 10:15, I think. I thought of Richard Tucker, the great tenor. He did a USO tour during the Vietnam War. An admiral, I believe, asked him to sing for the sailors at 6:30 a.m. Tucker responded, “I don’t spit before 9’oclock.” He did it anyway, of course.

• Another singer to perform at the Freedom Forum was Zara Larsson, a Swedish pop star (born in 1997). Needless to say, I had never heard of her. I have never heard of anybody. But, boy, lotsa people knew Zara, including the young Norwegian ushers. There was a great hubbub about Zara. I discovered that she has 1.4 million Twitter followers. Also, one of those young Norwegians pointed out that Zara has hundreds of millions of listeners on Spotify.

Later, I thought I saw Zara Larsson at the Grand Hotel. I wasn’t sure. I glimpsed a beautiful blond Scandinavian woman — which does not really narrow it down . . .

• I have lots of pictures from Oslo, which I will put in a journal. Maybe I will place one here. It shows a demonstration, in behalf of the Ukrainians, who are fighting to repel a monstrous invader and to retain their freedom. Some people back home, where I live, call this kind of thing “virtue signaling” and “moral preening” and worse. I call it solidarity and simple humanity.

Thank you for joining me today, one and all.

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