Fidel Castro Page 4

  —HISTORY WILL ABSOLVE ME: Fidel Castro’s speech in court, defending himself and his revolution

  After the failed Moncada Barracks attack, Castro and a few other survivors fled to the mountains to escape capture. They were tired, and some were wounded, and they were pursued by Batista’s soldiers, and it wasn’t long until they were captured. Some sources give credit to the local Catholic bishop for speaking out for prisoners’ rights and saving Castro’s life, but Castro offers another story in his later recounting of the events. He describes how he and his comrades slept in an abandoned shack one night, only to wake to the sound of hoofbeats and the door being bashed open. The soldiers were excited, and Castro thought they wanted to shoot him, but their leader, a lieutenant, told them, “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot. Ideas can’t be killed.” Castro claims this same lieutenant refused to turn Castro over to his superior, and instead brought Castro back to Santiago, even after Castro had revealed who he was.

  Once he was in jail awaiting trial, Castro took every opportunity he could to get his message out to the people of Cuba. In September 1953, Fidel and another 100 defendants were charged with “leading an attempt aimed at organizing an uprising of armed persons against constitutional powers of the state.” Castro acted as his own lawyer, but after five days of trial the court claimed he was too sick to continue, and sent him back to jail. In a later interview, Castro explained what had them so upset. “[W]hen the trial started, on Monday 21 September 1953, I assumed my own defense. And as [the defense] lawyer I started interrogating all those thugs and henchmen, all the witnesses, and that was a sight to see … They couldn’t take it; they pulled me out of the trial because they couldn’t prevent my denunciations. They tried me later by myself, with another man who’d been wounded, in a little room in the hospital.” Despite their attempts to keep him quiet, Castro had his day in court. He delivered an impassioned defense, citing abuses by Batista’s soldiers and placing his actions firmly in a historical context, and arguing clearly for the righteousness of his actions.

  In Castro’s famous defense speech, he spoke directly against the charges, arguing that he was not guilty of leading an uprising against the constitutional powers of the state. He said he had taken up arms against the Batista regime, which he argued was not a constitutional government at all, as Batista was not elected, but took his power by force. Castro had plenty of criticism for the Batista regime, even comparing them to the Nazis. “The regime has reached the point of asserting that ‘Might makes right’ is the supreme law of the land. In other words, that using tanks and soldiers to take over the presidential palace, the national treasury, and the other government offices, and aiming guns at the heart of the people, entitles them to govern the people!”

  Castro also addressed the Batista regime’s violent abuses following the Moncada Barracks attack, when captured men were tortured and executed. He offered many accounts of the regime’s cruelty in his speech, describing how they tore wounded men from the doctors’ care and let them die, and how they tried to force one of the women in Castro’s group to give them information by bringing her her brother’s eye, cut from his head. He explains what happened to many of the men who survived the battle, but were captured by the soldiers:

  “In the early morning hours, groups of our men were removed from the barracks and taken in automobiles to Siboney, La Maya, Songo, and elsewhere. Then they were led out—tied, gagged, already disfigured by the torture—and were murdered in isolated spots. They are recorded as having died in combat against the Army. This went on for several days, and few of the captured prisoners survived. Many were compelled to dig their own graves.”

  Castro also criticized Batista’s regime for how it had led the country, saying that his leadership had not made things better for the Cuban people, but had only benefitted Batista’s financial interests and those of his closest supporters. Castro didn’t hold back his criticism, saying, “Little else could be expected from a man of his mentality—utterly devoid as he is of ideals and of principles, and utterly lacking the faith, confidence, and support of the masses.”

  In contrast, Castro frames his fight as the fight for the common people. Despite the fact that the Moncada attacks had not sparked a popular uprising, as he had hoped, Castro still claimed to have the will of the people on his side. His defense, aside from providing a solid counter to the regime’s charges, served to put Castro’s fight into a historical context, and claim the support of his people. When asked if the Moncada attacks could be called the first battle of the Cuban Revolution, Castro said in a later interview, “That wouldn’t be completely fair, because the Cuban Revolution began with the first War of Independence in 1868, which started in Oriente province on 10 October of that year.” In his speech, Castro deftly connected his movement to the national narrative, framing his offensive as the next step in the long battle for independence, and arguing that his actions were not only just, but necessary. Castro called on strong patriotic themes when he said, “We are Cubans and to be Cuban implies a duty; not to fulfill that duty is a crime, is treason. We are proud of the history of our country; we learned it in school and have grown up hearing of freedom, justice, and human rights. […]

  “We were taught that the 10th of October and the 24th of February are glorious anniversaries of national rejoicing because they mark days on which Cubans rebelled against the yoke of infamous tyranny. We were taught to cherish and defend the beloved flag of the lone star, and to sing every afternoon the verses of our National Anthem: ‘To live in chains is to live in disgrace and in opprobrium,’ and ‘to die for one’s homeland is to live forever!’ All this we learned and will never forget, even though today in our land there is murder and prison for the men who practice the ideas taught to them since the cradle. We were born in a free country that our parents bequeathed to us, and the Island will first sink into the sea before we consent to be the slaves of anyone.”

  Despite his impassioned defense, Castro was found guilty and sentenced to 15 years at the Isla de Pinos, where his brother Raul and other surviving allies were already imprisoned. Officials did not want to give Castro any more opportunity to spread his political message, so the trial was conducted quickly and with little fanfare. Still, soon after he was put in jail, Castro released a copy of his testimony, rewritten from his recollections. The manifesto, called HISTORY WILL ABSOLVE ME, takes its name from the stirring closing line of his speech, in which Castro said, “I know that imprisonment will be harder for me than it has ever been for anyone, filled with cowardly threats and hideous cruelty. But I do not fear prison, as I do not fear the fury of the miserable tyrant who took the lives of 70 of my comrades. Condemn me. It does not matter. History will absolve me.” As many as 10,000 copies of the speech were printed and distributed to the people of Cuba, solidly establishing Castro as the primary rival to Batista’s rule.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IMPRISONED

  “I would honestly love to revolutionize this country from one end to the other! I am sure this would bring happiness to the Cuban people. I would not be stopped by the hatred and ill will of a few thousand people, including some of my relatives, half the people I know, two-thirds of my fellow professionals, and four-fifths of my ex-schoolmates.”

  The failed attempt to attack the Moncada Barracks. The long trial that ended in sentencing for long prison terms for himself, his brother, Raul, and more than 20 other co-conspirators. The bleak reality of prison. None of this took Fidel Castro away from his plan to overthrow Batista. Said Castro during his trial, “The only remedy to force without authority is to oppose it with force” and that “a government acclaimed by the mass of combatants would receive and be vested with the necessary power to establish effectively the will of the people and true justice.” The only way that Castro and his compañeros were going to be able to take Cuba out of Batista’s hands was through the same means Batista had taken power: violence.

  Being in prison would not deter Fidel; in fact, doing time w
as almost a retreat for planning and scheming. It was a perfect venue for Fidel to collect his thoughts without many distractions. To organize his ideas. To begin laying the groundwork to set the next attack in motion—and this time, make it a successful attack. “What a fantastic school this prison is!” the barely 30-year-old wrote optimistically in a letter from his cell. “Here I have forged my vision of the world and found the meaning of my life.”

  Even as he began to serve his 15-year sentence, he knew two things: that he would not be in prison forever, and that when he got out, he would already have the means in place to take Batista down. As he wrote to his sister (from his father’s first family) from his cell, “Don’t worry about me; you know I have a heart of steel and that I will be stalwart till the last day of my life. Nothing has been lost!” That optimism and his determination to set right the original plan of his failed Moncada mission kept him focused.

  Fidel made the most of his time, planning and getting everything in order for what would come to be called the “26th of July Movement,” which had been the date of the failed Moncada attack.

  Even incarcerated, Fidel remained in charge, corresponding with supporters on the outside and continuing to build a base of revolutionaries to join his army. Though there were times when the situation frustrated him:

  “To be a prisoner is to be condemned to silence, to hear and read everything spoken and not be able to speak out, to endure the attacks of cowards who take advantage of the circumstances to fight those who cannot defend themselves and to make accusations that would merit our immediate response, were it not physically impossible.”

  On the inside, Fidel led. He engaged regularly with inmates, educating them and motivating them. He even created a school for the prisoners, calling it the Abel Santamaría Ideological Academy, named for his compañero and fellow revolutionary who had, along with his sister, Haydee Santamaría, fought alongside Fidel at Moncada. Abel had also been captured, but was murdered in prison in 1953. In Fidel’s “school,” he taught subjects like history, philosophy, and introduced student-inmates to the Communist Manifesto, among other works he valued.

  For his own education, Fidel continued to learn the way he always had in school—on his own, through books. When he wasn’t teaching, and when he wasn’t planning the next revolution, he read works by great thinkers, from Shakespeare to Freud, and began analyzing these works to find communist threads in them. One of his favorite concepts for study was FDR’s New Deal, the structure of which he hoped to bring to Cuba after a successful revolution.

  When Batista himself made a visit to the prison in February of 1954, Fidel organized inmates to protest by singing anti-Batista songs. For that, he was placed in solitary confinement for several months. But even isolated, he made impact. As he wrote of this portion of his sentence:

  “Here I spend my days reading and exercising self-control. I definitely feel better when I do not read the newspapers; the politicking and the conformity I see everywhere produces in me fits of rage. If anyone’s patience has been put to the test it’s mine; there are times when I spend whole hours fighting the desire to explode or declare myself on hunger strike and not eat a thing until I am taken out of this cell or killed, which is not unlikely. I am convinced that they want to provoke me at all costs, but I don’t pay attention to their intentions. Otherwise, why after four months do they persist in keeping me isolated? Nonetheless, I do not know how long I will have the energy to contain myself.”

  While Fidel and his comrades served their sentences, another presidential selection was set to occur on the outside, at the end of 1954. The trouble, of course, was that no one dared run against Batista, so he won. He was inaugurated in February 1955. This wasn’t completely bad for Castro and his incarcerated compatriots, however.

  Batista was supposed to restore the Constitution of 1940, but he was slow to act. Because of the widespread anger at what many considered a bogus election, supporters were able to wrangle amnesty for Fidel and the other jailed participants from the Moncada incident, convincing Batista that Fidel and his friends were no political threat, and that the gesture would gain Batista more popular favor.

  Also at this time, Cuba had made an arrangement to export sugar to the Soviet Union, and had the blessing of the U.S. president at the time, Dwight D. Eisenhower, delivered in person by Vice President Richard Nixon. All of this, in combination with growing prosperity in Cuba, convinced Batista that amnesty was the way to go.

  On May 15, 1955, Fidel, Raul, and the rest of the Moncada members were released from prison. Fidel returned to Havana, where he gave interviews about Moncada, about his time in prison, and about his release. In Havana, he continued the work he had begun while locked away, to take down Batista once and for all. It wasn’t easy, however; he was under pretty much constant surveillance from the government who may have released him but did not trust him.

  Still, Fidel forged ahead. He established a National Directorate and lost some supporters who felt that Fidel seemed more “dictator” than leader. However, most stayed with him, and the planning for the July 26th Movement was in full effect. But because of the ever-watchful government eyes, they were not going to get very far with their planning in Cuba. It was time to find another location to stage the revolution.

  CHAPTER NINE

  PERSONAL UPHEAVAL

  “Mirta is too level-headed to have ever allowed herself to be seduced by her family, agreeing to appear on the government employee roster, no matter how hard her economic situation. I am sure she has been miserably slandered. The nature of this problem is so sad and difficult that I can barely contemplate it. I am ready to clear this up and will do anything to take action against this cowardly insult.”

  Having a spouse in prison would be a tough cross to bear for anyone in that position, but when your husband has been jailed with a sentence of 15 years, and you have nothing to count on except the family from whom your jailed husband has become estranged, it has to be an enormous strain. So being put on the government payroll by your brother, even a government as corrupt as the one Fidel was raging against, could be understandable. Unless, of course, you’re married to Fidel Castro, who considered this, as stated above, to be a “cowardly insult.”

  Exactly when Fidel became estranged from his family is not entirely clear, though it may have had to do with his father-in-law, wealthy Havana general Lincoln, becoming Batista’s deputy interior minister (and her brother, also named Lincoln, becoming one of Batista’s officers). But at the beginning of the relationship, when Fidel and Mirta Diaz-Balart, a philosophy student, were in college, her family seemed in full support of the union. They married on October 11, 1948, and a year later, On September 1, 1949, welcomed a son, Fidel Ángel “Fidelito” Castro Díaz-Balart. It’s interesting that Fidel named his son after himself and his father, as of his own given name he has said, “I had no name of my own. I was called Fidel because of somebody [Fidel Pino Santos] who was going to be my godfather.” And who, in fact, did not become Fidel’s godfather after all.

  In any case, there were no issues with Fidel and his bride’s new family in the beginning. In fact, his in-laws even paid for the new couple’s honeymoon in Miami, Florida, which was, incidentally, the first time Fidel ever visited the United States. However, all was not right with that trip. As some stories report, Fidel ran into some financial issues on the honeymoon and had to pawn some of his belongings until his own family could get money to them.

  There didn’t seem to have been any real issues between the Castros, though as Batista took over control of the country, with Mirta straddling the line between her family’s embracing of the self-mandated president and ruler of Cuba, and her husband’s deepest desire to dethrone him, so to speak, there had to have been more than the usual strain between spouse and in-laws.

  But it wasn’t until Castro’s capture and incarceration that things really began to fray. Mirta took a job at the Ministry of the Interior at the behest of her brother, and did not me
ntion it to her husband. It was a worse betrayal to him than had she been carrying on an affair. Castro did not learn of the employment from his wife or his in-laws; he found out on the radio, and when he did, he could not at first believe what he was hearing. As he wrote in a letter to Luis Conte about the radio broadcast, “I am ready to challenge my brother-in-law to a duel at any time. It is the reputation of my wife and my honor as a revolutionary that is at stake. Do not hesitate: Strike back and have no mercy. I would rather be killed a thousand times over than helplessly suffer such an insult.”

  The larger insult, of course, would be that the accusation was true. That Mirta had indeed, and without telling her revolutionary husband, taken a job supporting the government that Fidel was now suffering a prison sentence for having attempted to rise up against. He wrote to Luis, “I do not want to become a murderer when I leave prison,” and that was when he thought all was against Mirta and him. When he realized that she, too, by this act of her employment, was against him, there was no marriage left, for either party involved.

  Both partners filed for divorce, but that wasn’t when it got ugly. According to Cuban law at the time, in the event of divorce, custody went to the father. The father was not in a position at the time to take physical custody of Fidelito, so their son stayed with his mother, who had left the country with the boy. Nothing could have ever angered him more than this, his estranged wife’s second betrayal. Said Fidel, “I will be free one day and they will have to return my son and my honor, even if the earth shall be destroyed.” There was no way he would let her get away with taking his son from him. “I presume they know that to rob me of that boy, they will have to kill me,” he wrote in a letter. “And not even then.”