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Any autobiographically tinted writing forces me to clear up
any doubts about decisions I made more than half a century
ago. I am talking about subtle details, since the essential
points are never forgotten. This is the case of what I did
in 1948, sixty years ago.
I
remember it as if it were yesterday when I decided to
incorporate myself to the expedition to liberate the
Dominican people from the Trujillo tyranny. Also, each of
the most transcendental events of that period remained in my
mind; several dozens of episodes, unforgettable for me and
which from time to time I have been bringing up. Many of
them are around in written form.
When I decide to travel to Colombia with the idea of
promoting the creation of the Federation of Latin American
Students, I could not say today, with all certainty, that
among the aims there was also the concrete idea of impeding
the founding of the Organization of American States, OAS,
being promoted by the United States; this is a precocious
vision which I am not sure I had yet reached.
The exceptional historian and master of detail, Arturo Alape,
who interviewed me 33 years after the events, reproduces
some of my answers where I affirm that this was part of my
intent in my trip to Colombia in 1948.
Germán Sánchez, in his book Transparency of Emanuel,
quotes verbatim a paragraph from the Alape interview:
“During those days, confronted by the OAS meeting of 1948
which had been instigated by the U.S. to consolidate its
system of control here in Latin America, I came up with the
idea so that, at the same time as the OAS meeting and in the
same location, we would have a meeting of Latin American
students backing these anti-imperialist principles and
defending the points I had already expressed”.
In
an edition of that very interview, published in Cuba by the
Abril Publishing House recently, the paragraph
appears intact. Some one reminded me that in the book
One Hundred Hours with Fidel, I myself had cast some
doubt upon whether those had been the purposes guiding my
behavior. It is obvious that the expression had not been
clear when I used the phrase “confronted by the OAS
meeting”.
As
a sole resource to dissipate the doubt, I have attempted to
reconstruct the aims moving me at that time and up to which
point the political evolution of someone was reaching,
someone who, just two and a half years earlier, was
finishing his twelfth grade education in schools run by
priests. I was a rebellious person whose energies had been
channeled into playing sports, exploring, climbing mountains
and examining the pertinent school subjects with as much
knowledge as time would permit, simply as a matter of honor.
Something I was quite aware of during my school years were
the news printed daily about battles, from the Spanish Civil
War in July 1936 –I had not yet reached my 10th birthday--
until August 1945 --I was about to turn 19-- when atomic
bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, as I related
at one point .
From a very young age I suffered the injustices and
prejudices of the society in which I was living.
When I left for Colombia, I was quite radicalized, but at 21
years of age I was not yet a Marxist-Leninist. I was active
in the fight against the Trujillo tyranny and others like
that, for the independence of Puerto Rico, the return of the
Canal to Panama, the restitution of the Falkland Islands to
the Argentine Republic, the end of colonialism in the
Caribbean and the independence of islands and territories
occupied by England, France and Holland in our hemisphere.
In
those years, in Venezuela, the homeland of Bolívar, a
revolution led by Democratic Action took place. Rómulo
Betancourt, inspired by radical leftist ideas, pretended to
be a revolutionary leader. He led the country between
October 1945 and February 1948. Rómulo Gallegos, the great
writer, followed him, having been elected President in the
first elections taking place after the military movement of
1945. I met with him that same year when I visited Caracas.
In
Panama, students had just been brutally suppressed for
demanding the return of the Canal; one of them had been
wounded in the spinal column by a bullet and was unable to
move his legs.
In
Colombia, the university was seething with the popular pro-Gaitán
mobilization.
My
contacts with students from these three countries had been
fruitful: they agreed with the Congress and with the idea of
creating the Federation of Latin American Students. In
Argentina, the Peronists were also supporting us.
The Colombian university students put me in contact with
Gaitán. Thus I had the honor of meeting and talking with
him. He was the undeniable leader of the humble sectors of
the Liberal Party and of the progressive forces in
Colombia. He promised us that he would inaugurate our
Congress. For us, this was great encouragement.
In
that sister country, a meeting of representatives from the
governments of Latin America was taking place. The
Secretary of State, General Marshall, was there on behalf of
the President of the United States Harry S. Truman who,
behind the backs of the Soviets, their ally in World War II
who had lost millions of soldiers, had dropped atomic bombs
on two great civilian communities in Japan. The main purpose
of the United States in the Bogotá meeting was to create the
OAS, which ended up producing such bitter results for our
peoples.
I
ask myself whether I had advanced in my ideological
development to such a point as to propose to myself the bold
idea of obstructing the creation of that supra-national
institution. In any case, I was against the tyrannies which
were represented there, the occupation of Puerto Rico and
Panama by the United States, but as yet I did not possess a
clear idea about the system of imperial domination.
Something that amazed me was reading, in the Colombian
press, the news about the massacres that were taking place
in the countryside under the conservative government of
Ospina Pérez. There would usually be information about
dozens of peasants being murdered during those days. It was
a while since something similar had occurred in Cuba.
Things appeared to be so normal that in the theatre where
they were holding an official gala and where Marshall and
the other representatives from the countries meeting in
Bogotá were present, I made the mistake of dropping from the
top floor some leaflets outlining our program. This
resulted in my being arrested, and two hours later I was
released. It seemed that it was a perfect democracy there.
To
get to know Gaitán and his speeches, such as his Prayer for
Peace, as well as his eloquent, impressive and well founded
defense of Lieutenant Cortés –which I heard from the outside
because there was no room inside– was something unexpected.
As for me, I had just barely finished two years at the
Faculty of Law.
Our second meeting with Gaitán and other university
representatives was set for April 9 at 2:00 in the
afternoon. I waited for the time of the meeting with a Cuban
friend who accompanied me, walking up and down the avenue
close to the little hotel where we were staying and to
Gaitán’s office, when some fanatic or crazy man, no doubt
instigated, shot the Colombian leader; the assailant was
ripped apart by the people.
At
that moment, the unimaginable experience I lived through in
Colombia began. I was a voluntary combatant with that brave
people. I supported Gaitán and his progressive movement,
just as Colombian citizens supported our mambises
(patriotic fighters) in our struggle for independence.
When Arturo Alape traveled to Cuba years after the triumph
of the Revolution, in 1981, Gabriel García Márquez arranged
a meeting with me; it began at dawn, at Antonio Núñez
Jiménez’ home. Alape came with a tape recorder and
interrogated me for hours about the events in Bogotá in the
month of April in 1948. Núñez Jiménez was recording on
another one.
I
had a lot of fresh memories of the events I could not
forget; for his part, the historian knew everything that had
happened on the Colombian side, many details which I
naturally didn’t know about and this helped me to understand
the meaning of each of the episodes I lived through.
Without him, maybe I would never have known about them.
However, he was still lacking one task: to transcribe
everything on tape with his people; the other recording was
transcribed in the Palacio de la Revolución. I
recall checking one of them. For this work, dialogues are
more difficult than speeches, because often the voices
overlap. I found mutilated words and changed phrases. I
took the time of checking and correcting them. There were
more than four hours of interview. Not many can imagine the
kind of work involved in this.
I
think that the mixture of historical events before and after
the triumph of the Revolution resulted in a probable state
of confusion in my mind. That’s what I am thinking and, in
the case of any doubt, the most honorable thing is to
explain it.
If
in three years my political ideas had radicalized before my
visit to Colombia, in the short period between April 9, 1948
and July 26, 1953 when we attacked the Moncada Barracks
regiment -now almost exactly 55 years ago- the passage was
enormous. I had been ideologically transformed into a true
leftist radical, which inspired the perseverance, the
tenacity and also the astuteness with which I dedicated
myself to revolutionary action.
Subsequently, the struggle in the Sierra Maestra followed,
lasting 25 months, and the first victorious combat with only
18 weapons, after our small troop of 82 men was almost wiped
out on December 5, 1956.
In the files of the International Red Cross there
are records of hundreds of prisoners we returned after the
last enemy offensive, in the summer of 1958. In December of
that year, there wasn’t enough time to call in the
International Red Cross in order to hand over prisoners.
With the promise of not fighting, the soldiers in the units
surrendering handed over their weapons and remained
mobilized and unarmed, while the officers kept their rank
and small fire-arms, awaiting the end of the war.
Now that all of that is in the distant past, nobody can
imagine the value of a work such as that of Arturo Alape; he
wrote an excellent book about the phase of revolutionary
struggle in Colombia. It is my intention to write about this
several reflections, from a theoretical angle and with the
greatest respect, in light of current circumstances in our
hemisphere and the world.
From all of this, the true revolutionary can draw a
permanent lesson: sincerity and the value of being humble.
Fidel
Castro Ruz
July
17, 2008
8:21
p.m.
Any autobiographically tinted writing forces me to clear up
any doubts about decisions I made more than half a century
ago. I am talking about subtle details, since the essential
points are never forgotten. This is the case of what I did
in 1948, sixty years ago.
I
remember it as if it were yesterday when I decided to
incorporate myself to the expedition to liberate the
Dominican people from the Trujillo tyranny. Also, each of
the most transcendental events of that period remained in my
mind; several dozens of episodes, unforgettable for me and
which from time to time I have been bringing up. Many of
them are around in written form.
When I decide to travel to Colombia with the idea of
promoting the creation of the Federation of Latin American
Students, I could not say today, with all certainty, that
among the aims there was also the concrete idea of impeding
the founding of the Organization of American States, OAS,
being promoted by the United States; this is a precocious
vision which I am not sure I had yet reached.
The exceptional historian and master of detail, Arturo Alape,
who interviewed me 33 years after the events, reproduces
some of my answers where I affirm that this was part of my
intent in my trip to Colombia in 1948.
Germán Sánchez, in his book Transparency of Emanuel,
quotes verbatim a paragraph from the Alape interview:
“During those days, confronted by the OAS meeting of 1948
which had been instigated by the U.S. to consolidate its
system of control here in Latin America, I came up with the
idea so that, at the same time as the OAS meeting and in the
same location, we would have a meeting of Latin American
students backing these anti-imperialist principles and
defending the points I had already expressed”.
In
an edition of that very interview, published in Cuba by the
Abril Publishing House recently, the paragraph
appears intact. Some one reminded me that in the book
One Hundred Hours with Fidel, I myself had cast some
doubt upon whether those had been the purposes guiding my
behavior. It is obvious that the expression had not been
clear when I used the phrase “confronted by the OAS
meeting”.
As
a sole resource to dissipate the doubt, I have attempted to
reconstruct the aims moving me at that time and up to which
point the political evolution of someone was reaching,
someone who, just two and a half years earlier, was
finishing his twelfth grade education in schools run by
priests. I was a rebellious person whose energies had been
channeled into playing sports, exploring, climbing mountains
and examining the pertinent school subjects with as much
knowledge as time would permit, simply as a matter of honor.
Something I was quite aware of during my school years were
the news printed daily about battles, from the Spanish Civil
War in July 1936 –I had not yet reached my 10th birthday--
until August 1945 --I was about to turn 19-- when atomic
bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, as I related
at one point .
From a very young age I suffered the injustices and
prejudices of the society in which I was living.
When I left for Colombia, I was quite radicalized, but at 21
years of age I was not yet a Marxist-Leninist. I was active
in the fight against the Trujillo tyranny and others like
that, for the independence of Puerto Rico, the return of the
Canal to Panama, the restitution of the Falkland Islands to
the Argentine Republic, the end of colonialism in the
Caribbean and the independence of islands and territories
occupied by England, France and Holland in our hemisphere.
In
those years, in Venezuela, the homeland of Bolívar, a
revolution led by Democratic Action took place. Rómulo
Betancourt, inspired by radical leftist ideas, pretended to
be a revolutionary leader. He led the country between
October 1945 and February 1948. Rómulo Gallegos, the great
writer, followed him, having been elected President in the
first elections taking place after the military movement of
1945. I met with him that same year when I visited Caracas.
In
Panama, students had just been brutally suppressed for
demanding the return of the Canal; one of them had been
wounded in the spinal column by a bullet and was unable to
move his legs.
In
Colombia, the university was seething with the popular
pro-Gaitán mobilization.
My
contacts with students from these three countries had been
fruitful: they agreed with the Congress and with the idea of
creating the Federation of Latin American Students. In
Argentina, the Peronists were also supporting us.
The Colombian university students put me in contact with
Gaitán. Thus I had the honor of meeting and talking with
him. He was the undeniable leader of the humble sectors of
the Liberal Party and of the progressive forces in
Colombia. He promised us that he would inaugurate our
Congress. For us, this was great encouragement.
In
that sister country, a meeting of representatives from the
governments of Latin America was taking place. The
Secretary of State, General Marshall, was there on behalf of
the President of the United States Harry S. Truman who,
behind the backs of the Soviets, their ally in World War II
who had lost millions of soldiers, had dropped atomic bombs
on two great civilian communities in Japan. The main purpose
of the United States in the Bogotá meeting was to create the
OAS, which ended up producing such bitter results for our
peoples.
I
ask myself whether I had advanced in my ideological
development to such a point as to propose to myself the bold
idea of obstructing the creation of that supra-national
institution. In any case, I was against the tyrannies which
were represented there, the occupation of Puerto Rico and
Panama by the United States, but as yet I did not possess a
clear idea about the system of imperial domination.
Something that amazed me was reading, in the Colombian
press, the news about the massacres that were taking place
in the countryside under the conservative government of
Ospina Pérez. There would usually be information about
dozens of peasants being murdered during those days. It was
a while since something similar had occurred in Cuba.
Things appeared to be so normal that in the theatre where
they were holding an official gala and where Marshall and
the other representatives from the countries meeting in
Bogotá were present, I made the mistake of dropping from the
top floor some leaflets outlining our program. This
resulted in my being arrested, and two hours later I was
released. It seemed that it was a perfect democracy there.
To
get to know Gaitán and his speeches, such as his Prayer for
Peace, as well as his eloquent, impressive and well founded
defense of Lieutenant Cortés –which I heard from the outside
because there was no room inside– was something unexpected.
As for me, I had just barely finished two years at the
Faculty of Law.
Our second meeting with Gaitán and other university
representatives was set for April 9 at 2:00 in the
afternoon. I waited for the time of the meeting with a Cuban
friend who accompanied me, walking up and down the avenue
close to the little hotel where we were staying and to
Gaitán’s office, when some fanatic or crazy man, no doubt
instigated, shot the Colombian leader; the assailant was
ripped apart by the people.
At
that moment, the unimaginable experience I lived through in
Colombia began. I was a voluntary combatant with that brave
people. I supported Gaitán and his progressive movement,
just as Colombian citizens supported our mambises
(patriotic fighters) in our struggle for independence.
When Arturo Alape traveled to Cuba years after the triumph
of the Revolution, in 1981, Gabriel García Márquez arranged
a meeting with me; it began at dawn, at Antonio Núñez
Jiménez’ home. Alape came with a tape recorder and
interrogated me for hours about the events in Bogotá in the
month of April in 1948. Núñez Jiménez was recording on
another one.
I
had a lot of fresh memories of the events I could not
forget; for his part, the historian knew everything that had
happened on the Colombian side, many details which I
naturally didn’t know about and this helped me to understand
the meaning of each of the episodes I lived through.
Without him, maybe I would never have known about them.
However, he was still lacking one task: to transcribe
everything on tape with his people; the other recording was
transcribed in the Palacio de la Revolución. I
recall checking one of them. For this work, dialogues are
more difficult than speeches, because often the voices
overlap. I found mutilated words and changed phrases. I
took the time of checking and correcting them. There were
more than four hours of interview. Not many can imagine the
kind of work involved in this.
I
think that the mixture of historical events before and after
the triumph of the Revolution resulted in a probable state
of confusion in my mind. That’s what I am thinking and, in
the case of any doubt, the most honorable thing is to
explain it.
If
in three years my political ideas had radicalized before my
visit to Colombia, in the short period between April 9, 1948
and July 26, 1953 when we attacked the Moncada Barracks
regiment -now almost exactly 55 years ago- the passage was
enormous. I had been ideologically transformed into a true
leftist radical, which inspired the perseverance, the
tenacity and also the astuteness with which I dedicated
myself to revolutionary action.
Subsequently, the struggle in the Sierra Maestra followed,
lasting 25 months, and the first victorious combat with only
18 weapons, after our small troop of 82 men was almost wiped
out on December 5, 1956.
In the files of the International Red Cross there
are records of hundreds of prisoners we returned after the
last enemy offensive, in the summer of 1958. In December of
that year, there wasn’t enough time to call in the
International Red Cross in order to hand over prisoners.
With the promise of not fighting, the soldiers in the units
surrendering handed over their weapons and remained
mobilized and unarmed, while the officers kept their rank
and small fire-arms, awaiting the end of the war.
Now that all of that is in the distant past, nobody can
imagine the value of a work such as that of Arturo Alape; he
wrote an excellent book about the phase of revolutionary
struggle in Colombia. It is my intention to write about this
several reflections, from a theoretical angle and with the
greatest respect, in light of current circumstances in our
hemisphere and the world.
From all of this, the true revolutionary can draw a
permanent lesson: sincerity and the value of being humble.
Fidel
Castro Ruz
July
17, 2008
8:21
p.m.
Any autobiographically tinted writing forces me to clear up
any doubts about decisions I made more than half a century
ago. I am talking about subtle details, since the essential
points are never forgotten. This is the case of what I did
in 1948, sixty years ago.
I
remember it as if it were yesterday when I decided to
incorporate myself to the expedition to liberate the
Dominican people from the Trujillo tyranny. Also, each of
the most transcendental events of that period remained in my
mind; several dozens of episodes, unforgettable for me and
which from time to time I have been bringing up. Many of
them are around in written form.
When I decide to travel to Colombia with the idea of
promoting the creation of the Federation of Latin American
Students, I could not say today, with all certainty, that
among the aims there was also the concrete idea of impeding
the founding of the Organization of American States, OAS,
being promoted by the United States; this is a precocious
vision which I am not sure I had yet reached.
The exceptional historian and master of detail, Arturo Alape,
who interviewed me 33 years after the events, reproduces
some of my answers where I affirm that this was part of my
intent in my trip to Colombia in 1948.
Germán Sánchez, in his book Transparency of Emanuel,
quotes verbatim a paragraph from the Alape interview:
“During those days, confronted by the OAS meeting of 1948
which had been instigated by the U.S. to consolidate its
system of control here in Latin America, I came up with the
idea so that, at the same time as the OAS meeting and in the
same location, we would have a meeting of Latin American
students backing these anti-imperialist principles and
defending the points I had already expressed”.
In
an edition of that very interview, published in Cuba by the
Abril Publishing House recently, the paragraph
appears intact. Some one reminded me that in the book
One Hundred Hours with Fidel, I myself had cast some
doubt upon whether those had been the purposes guiding my
behavior. It is obvious that the expression had not been
clear when I used the phrase “confronted by the OAS
meeting”.
As
a sole resource to dissipate the doubt, I have attempted to
reconstruct the aims moving me at that time and up to which
point the political evolution of someone was reaching,
someone who, just two and a half years earlier, was
finishing his twelfth grade education in schools run by
priests. I was a rebellious person whose energies had been
channeled into playing sports, exploring, climbing mountains
and examining the pertinent school subjects with as much
knowledge as time would permit, simply as a matter of honor.
Something I was quite aware of during my school years were
the news printed daily about battles, from the Spanish Civil
War in July 1936 –I had not yet reached my 10th birthday--
until August 1945 --I was about to turn 19-- when atomic
bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, as I related
at one point .
From a very young age I suffered the injustices and
prejudices of the society in which I was living.
When I left for Colombia, I was quite radicalized, but at 21
years of age I was not yet a Marxist-Leninist. I was active
in the fight against the Trujillo tyranny and others like
that, for the independence of Puerto Rico, the return of the
Canal to Panama, the restitution of the Falkland Islands to
the Argentine Republic, the end of colonialism in the
Caribbean and the independence of islands and territories
occupied by England, France and Holland in our hemisphere.
In
those years, in Venezuela, the homeland of Bolívar, a
revolution led by Democratic Action took place. Rómulo
Betancourt, inspired by radical leftist ideas, pretended to
be a revolutionary leader. He led the country between
October 1945 and February 1948. Rómulo Gallegos, the great
writer, followed him, having been elected President in the
first elections taking place after the military movement of
1945. I met with him that same year when I visited Caracas.
In
Panama, students had just been brutally suppressed for
demanding the return of the Canal; one of them had been
wounded in the spinal column by a bullet and was unable to
move his legs.
In
Colombia, the university was seething with the popular pro-Gaitán
mobilization.
My
contacts with students from these three countries had been
fruitful: they agreed with the Congress and with the idea of
creating the Federation of Latin American Students. In
Argentina, the Peronists were also supporting us.
The Colombian university students put me in contact with
Gaitán. Thus I had the honor of meeting and talking with
him. He was the undeniable leader of the humble sectors of
the Liberal Party and of the progressive forces in
Colombia. He promised us that he would inaugurate our
Congress. For us, this was great encouragement.
In
that sister country, a meeting of representatives from the
governments of Latin America was taking place. The
Secretary of State, General Marshall, was there on behalf of
the President of the United States Harry S. Truman who,
behind the backs of the Soviets, their ally in World War II
who had lost millions of soldiers, had dropped atomic bombs
on two great civilian communities in Japan. The main purpose
of the United States in the Bogotá meeting was to create the
OAS, which ended up producing such bitter results for our
peoples.
I
ask myself whether I had advanced in my ideological
development to such a point as to propose to myself the bold
idea of obstructing the creation of that supra-national
institution. In any case, I was against the tyrannies which
were represented there, the occupation of Puerto Rico and
Panama by the United States, but as yet I did not possess a
clear idea about the system of imperial domination.
Something that amazed me was reading, in the Colombian
press, the news about the massacres that were taking place
in the countryside under the conservative government of
Ospina Pérez. There would usually be information about
dozens of peasants being murdered during those days. It was
a while since something similar had occurred in Cuba.
Things appeared to be so normal that in the theatre where
they were holding an official gala and where Marshall and
the other representatives from the countries meeting in
Bogotá were present, I made the mistake of dropping from the
top floor some leaflets outlining our program. This
resulted in my being arrested, and two hours later I was
released. It seemed that it was a perfect democracy there.
To
get to know Gaitán and his speeches, such as his Prayer for
Peace, as well as his eloquent, impressive and well founded
defense of Lieutenant Cortés –which I heard from the outside
because there was no room inside– was something unexpected.
As for me, I had just barely finished two years at the
Faculty of Law.
Our second meeting with Gaitán and other university
representatives was set for April 9 at 2:00 in the
afternoon. I waited for the time of the meeting with a Cuban
friend who accompanied me, walking up and down the avenue
close to the little hotel where we were staying and to
Gaitán’s office, when some fanatic or crazy man, no doubt
instigated, shot the Colombian leader; the assailant was
ripped apart by the people.
At
that moment, the unimaginable experience I lived through in
Colombia began. I was a voluntary combatant with that brave
people. I supported Gaitán and his progressive movement,
just as Colombian citizens supported our mambises
(patriotic fighters) in our struggle for independence.
When Arturo Alape traveled to Cuba years after the triumph
of the Revolution, in 1981, Gabriel García Márquez arranged
a meeting with me; it began at dawn, at Antonio Núñez
Jiménez’ home. Alape came with a tape recorder and
interrogated me for hours about the events in Bogotá in the
month of April in 1948. Núñez Jiménez was recording on
another one.
I
had a lot of fresh memories of the events I could not
forget; for his part, the historian knew everything that had
happened on the Colombian side, many details which I
naturally didn’t know about and this helped me to understand
the meaning of each of the episodes I lived through.
Without him, maybe I would never have known about them.
However, he was still lacking one task: to transcribe
everything on tape with his people; the other recording was
transcribed in the Palacio de la Revolución. I
recall checking one of them. For this work, dialogues are
more difficult than speeches, because often the voices
overlap. I found mutilated words and changed phrases. I
took the time of checking and correcting them. There were
more than four hours of interview. Not many can imagine the
kind of work involved in this.
I
think that the mixture of historical events before and after
the triumph of the Revolution resulted in a probable state
of confusion in my mind. That’s what I am thinking and, in
the case of any doubt, the most honorable thing is to
explain it.
If
in three years my political ideas had radicalized before my
visit to Colombia, in the short period between April 9, 1948
and July 26, 1953 when we attacked the Moncada Barracks
regiment -now almost exactly 55 years ago- the passage was
enormous. I had been ideologically transformed into a true
leftist radical, which inspired the perseverance, the
tenacity and also the astuteness with which I dedicated
myself to revolutionary action.
Subsequently, the struggle in the Sierra Maestra followed,
lasting 25 months, and the first victorious combat with only
18 weapons, after our small troop of 82 men was almost wiped
out on December 5, 1956.
In the files of the International Red Cross there
are records of hundreds of prisoners we returned after the
last enemy offensive, in the summer of 1958. In December of
that year, there wasn’t enough time to call in the
International Red Cross in order to hand over prisoners.
With the promise of not fighting, the soldiers in the units
surrendering handed over their weapons and remained
mobilized and unarmed, while the officers kept their rank
and small fire-arms, awaiting the end of the war.
Now that all of that is in the distant past, nobody can
imagine the value of a work such as that of Arturo Alape; he
wrote an excellent book about the phase of revolutionary
struggle in Colombia. It is my intention to write about this
several reflections, from a theoretical angle and with the
greatest respect, in light of current circumstances in our
hemisphere and the world.
From all of this, the true revolutionary can draw a
permanent lesson: sincerity and the value of being humble.
Fidel
Castro Ruz
July
17, 2008
8:21
p.m.
Any autobiographically tinted writing forces me to clear up
any doubts about decisions I made more than half a century
ago. I am talking about subtle details, since the essential
points are never forgotten. This is the case of what I did
in 1948, sixty years ago.
I
remember it as if it were yesterday when I decided to
incorporate myself to the expedition to liberate the
Dominican people from the Trujillo tyranny. Also, each of
the most transcendental events of that period remained in my
mind; several dozens of episodes, unforgettable for me and
which from time to time I have been bringing up. Many of
them are around in written form.
When I decide to travel to Colombia with the idea of
promoting the creation of the Federation of Latin American
Students, I could not say today, with all certainty, that
among the aims there was also the concrete idea of impeding
the founding of the Organization of American States, OAS,
being promoted by the United States; this is a precocious
vision which I am not sure I had yet reached.
The exceptional historian and master of detail, Arturo Alape,
who interviewed me 33 years after the events, reproduces
some of my answers where I affirm that this was part of my
intent in my trip to Colombia in 1948.
Germán Sánchez, in his book Transparency of Emanuel,
quotes verbatim a paragraph from the Alape interview:
“During those days, confronted by the OAS meeting of 1948
which had been instigated by the U.S. to consolidate its
system of control here in Latin America, I came up with the
idea so that, at the same time as the OAS meeting and in the
same location, we would have a meeting of Latin American
students backing these anti-imperialist principles and
defending the points I had already expressed”.
In
an edition of that very interview, published in Cuba by the
Abril Publishing House recently, the paragraph
appears intact. Some one reminded me that in the book
One Hundred Hours with Fidel, I myself had cast some
doubt upon whether those had been the purposes guiding my
behavior. It is obvious that the expression had not been
clear when I used the phrase “confronted by the OAS
meeting”.
As
a sole resource to dissipate the doubt, I have attempted to
reconstruct the aims moving me at that time and up to which
point the political evolution of someone was reaching,
someone who, just two and a half years earlier, was
finishing his twelfth grade education in schools run by
priests. I was a rebellious person whose energies had been
channeled into playing sports, exploring, climbing mountains
and examining the pertinent school subjects with as much
knowledge as time would permit, simply as a matter of honor.
Something I was quite aware of during my school years were
the news printed daily about battles, from the Spanish Civil
War in July 1936 –I had not yet reached my 10th birthday--
until August 1945 --I was about to turn 19-- when atomic
bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, as I related
at one point .
From a very young age I suffered the injustices and
prejudices of the society in which I was living.
When I left for Colombia, I was quite radicalized, but at 21
years of age I was not yet a Marxist-Leninist. I was active
in the fight against the Trujillo tyranny and others like
that, for the independence of Puerto Rico, the return of the
Canal to Panama, the restitution of the Falkland Islands to
the Argentine Republic, the end of colonialism in the
Caribbean and the independence of islands and territories
occupied by England, France and Holland in our hemisphere.
In
those years, in Venezuela, the homeland of Bolívar, a
revolution led by Democratic Action took place. Rómulo
Betancourt, inspired by radical leftist ideas, pretended to
be a revolutionary leader. He led the country between
October 1945 and February 1948. Rómulo Gallegos, the great
writer, followed him, having been elected President in the
first elections taking place after the military movement of
1945. I met with him that same year when I visited Caracas.
In
Panama, students had just been brutally suppressed for
demanding the return of the Canal; one of them had been
wounded in the spinal column by a bullet and was unable to
move his legs.
In
Colombia, the university was seething with the popular
pro-Gaitán mobilization.
My
contacts with students from these three countries had been
fruitful: they agreed with the Congress and with the idea of
creating the Federation of Latin American Students. In
Argentina, the Peronists were also supporting us.
The Colombian university students put me in contact with
Gaitán. Thus I had the honor of meeting and talking with
him. He was the undeniable leader of the humble sectors of
the Liberal Party and of the progressive forces in
Colombia. He promised us that he would inaugurate our
Congress. For us, this was great encouragement.
In
that sister country, a meeting of representatives from the
governments of Latin America was taking place. The
Secretary of State, General Marshall, was there on behalf of
the President of the United States Harry S. Truman who,
behind the backs of the Soviets, their ally in World War II
who had lost millions of soldiers, had dropped atomic bombs
on two great civilian communities in Japan. The main purpose
of the United States in the Bogotá meeting was to create the
OAS, which ended up producing such bitter results for our
peoples.
I
ask myself whether I had advanced in my ideological
development to such a point as to propose to myself the bold
idea of obstructing the creation of that supra-national
institution. In any case, I was against the tyrannies which
were represented there, the occupation of Puerto Rico and
Panama by the United States, but as yet I did not possess a
clear idea about the system of imperial domination.
Something that amazed me was reading, in the Colombian
press, the news about the massacres that were taking place
in the countryside under the conservative government of
Ospina Pérez. There would usually be information about
dozens of peasants being murdered during those days. It was
a while since something similar had occurred in Cuba.
Things appeared to be so normal that in the theatre where
they were holding an official gala and where Marshall and
the other representatives from the countries meeting in
Bogotá were present, I made the mistake of dropping from the
top floor some leaflets outlining our program. This
resulted in my being arrested, and two hours later I was
released. It seemed that it was a perfect democracy there.
To
get to know Gaitán and his speeches, such as his Prayer for
Peace, as well as his eloquent, impressive and well founded
defense of Lieutenant Cortés –which I heard from the outside
because there was no room inside– was something unexpected.
As for me, I had just barely finished two years at the
Faculty of Law.
Our second meeting with Gaitán and other university
representatives was set for April 9 at 2:00 in the
afternoon. I waited for the time of the meeting with a Cuban
friend who accompanied me, walking up and down the avenue
close to the little hotel where we were staying and to
Gaitán’s office, when some fanatic or crazy man, no doubt
instigated, shot the Colombian leader; the assailant was
ripped apart by the people.
At
that moment, the unimaginable experience I lived through in
Colombia began. I was a voluntary combatant with that brave
people. I supported Gaitán and his progressive movement,
just as Colombian citizens supported our mambises
(patriotic fighters) in our struggle for independence.
When Arturo Alape traveled to Cuba years after the triumph
of the Revolution, in 1981, Gabriel García Márquez arranged
a meeting with me; it began at dawn, at Antonio Núñez
Jiménez’ home. Alape came with a tape recorder and
interrogated me for hours about the events in Bogotá in the
month of April in 1948. Núñez Jiménez was recording on
another one.
I
had a lot of fresh memories of the events I could not
forget; for his part, the historian knew everything that had
happened on the Colombian side, many details which I
naturally didn’t know about and this helped me to understand
the meaning of each of the episodes I lived through.
Without him, maybe I would never have known about them.
However, he was still lacking one task: to transcribe
everything on tape with his people; the other recording was
transcribed in the Palacio de la Revolución. I
recall checking one of them. For this work, dialogues are
more difficult than speeches, because often the voices
overlap. I found mutilated words and changed phrases. I
took the time of checking and correcting them. There were
more than four hours of interview. Not many can imagine the
kind of work involved in this.
I
think that the mixture of historical events before and after
the triumph of the Revolution resulted in a probable state
of confusion in my mind. That’s what I am thinking and, in
the case of any doubt, the most honorable thing is to
explain it.
If
in three years my political ideas had radicalized before my
visit to Colombia, in the short period between April 9, 1948
and July 26, 1953 when we attacked the Moncada Barracks
regiment -now almost exactly 55 years ago- the passage was
enormous. I had been ideologically transformed into a true
leftist radical, which inspired the perseverance, the
tenacity and also the astuteness with which I dedicated
myself to revolutionary action.
Subsequently, the struggle in the Sierra Maestra followed,
lasting 25 months, and the first victorious combat with only
18 weapons, after our small troop of 82 men was almost wiped
out on December 5, 1956.
In the files of the International Red Cross there
are records of hundreds of prisoners we returned after the
last enemy offensive, in the summer of 1958. In December of
that year, there wasn’t enough time to call in the
International Red Cross in order to hand over prisoners.
With the promise of not fighting, the soldiers in the units
surrendering handed over their weapons and remained
mobilized and unarmed, while the officers kept their rank
and small fire-arms, awaiting the end of the war.
Now that all of that is in the distant past, nobody can
imagine the value of a work such as that of Arturo Alape; he
wrote an excellent book about the phase of revolutionary
struggle in Colombia. It is my intention to write about this
several reflections, from a theoretical angle and with the
greatest respect, in light of current circumstances in our
hemisphere and the world.
From all of this, the true revolutionary can draw a
permanent lesson: sincerity and the value of being humble.
Fidel
Castro Ruz
July
17, 2008
8:21
p.m. |