Che Guevara (50 page)

Fidel was walking a tightrope in his quest to emerge as the de facto leader of Cuba’s political opposition. To be successful, he had to acquire
military muscle by expanding the war, but he also needed more political and economic support, and to obtain that he had to present a suitably moderate, nonthreatening front.

After receiving Armando Hart’s letter telling of the impending unity pact, Fidel shot off a letter to his representative in the United States, urging him to lead a delegation to the planned November 1 meeting. Fidel also sent a list of his nominees for key posts in the proposed alliance. No doubt confident that his wishes would be met, Fidel went back to the business of directing the guerrilla war. An evidently chastened Daniel returned to Santiago after meeting with Fidel and was soon working hard to get him the ammunition and other supplies he said he needed. Celia Sánchez remained behind in the Sierra Maestra. Fidel had told her he wanted her “feminine presence” at his side for some time.

On November 1, in Miami, a “Cuban Liberation Junta” was formed, with representatives signing on behalf of most of Cuba’s main opposition groups. The Communists had been excluded, but the July 26 Movement dominated the new junta’s national committee. Without Fidel’s consent, Felipe Pazos had acted as the official July 26 representative, and Fidel saw this as a bid to upstage him. Apart from the standard calls for Batista’s resignation, fair elections, and a return to constitutionality, the pact had pandered openly to Washington. There was no statement opposing foreign intervention or the idea of a military junta succeeding Batista—something Fidel greatly feared. The pact called for a “post-victory” incorporation of Fidel’s guerrillas into the Cuban armed forces, thereby ensuring the Rebel Army’s dissolution. The issue of economic injustice was similarly passed over with a tepid clause promising to create more jobs and raise living standards. In sum, it was a political manifesto designed to warm Washington’s heart.

Armando Hart and Daniel claimed to be upset with the terms of the pact, but they intimated that they could live with it. Raúl was livid, accusing Felipe Pazos of outright treachery, and proposing that he be shot. Fidel let it be known that he was unhappy, but as the llano officials scrambled to clarify their positions, he maintained an enigmatic silence. Immersed in the war, Che kept quiet but anxiously awaited clarification from Fidel. On December 1, after the battle of Mar Verde, Che had diplomatically urged Fidel to issue a statement he could print in
El Cubano Libre
. Then came Che’s retreat from El Hombrito and his injury at Altos de Conrado. It was in the December 9 letter from La Mesa that Che finally threw down the gauntlet to Fidel. Invoking his suspicions of the National Directorate and accusing it of intentionally “sabotaging” him, he demanded to be allowed to take
unspecified “stern measures” to remedy the situation, or else he would resign. However diplomatically couched, it was an ultimatum to the
jefe
.
*
Not only Che’s future relationship with Fidel Castro hinged on the reply but, in fact, the political course of Cuba’s revolutionary struggle.

The contents of Fidel’s letter of reply to Che have never been revealed, but whatever he said, Che experienced a reaffirmation of faith. On December 15, he wrote to Fidel, “At this very moment, a messenger arrived with your note of the thirteenth. I confess that it ... filled me with peace and happiness. Not for any personal reason, but rather for what this step means for the Revolution. You know well that I didn’t trust the people on the National Directorate at all—neither as leaders nor as revolutionaries. But I didn’t think they’d go to the extreme of betraying you so openly.”

Che went on to say that Fidel’s continued silence was “inadvisable”; the Americans were obviously “pulling the wires behind the scenes,” and it was time to take the gloves off. “We unfortunately have to face Uncle Sam before the time is ripe.” He again urged Fidel to sign a document denouncing the Miami Pact; he would run off 10,000 copies and distribute them all over Oriente and Havana—the whole island if he could. “Later, if it becomes more complicated, with Celia’s help, we can fire the entire National Directorate.”

Fidel
did
break his silence. On the day of his letter to Che, he issued a statement condemning the Miami Pact and sent it to Che, to the National Directorate, and to each of the pact’s signatories, accusing them of showing “lukewarm patriotism and cowardice.” He was very clear. “The leadership of the struggle against the tyranny is, and will continue to be, in Cuba and in the hands of revolutionary fighters.” As for the post-victory future of his guerrilla forces, “The July 26 Movement claims for itself the role of maintaining public order and reorganizing the armed forces of the republic.” Finally, to sabotage what he perceived to be Felipe Pazos’s attempt to secure for himself the presidency of a future transition government, Fidel designated his own candidate: the elderly Santiago jurist Manuel Urrutia. Fidel completed his tour de force by declaring, “These are our conditions. ... If they are rejected, then we will continue the struggle on our own. ... To die with dignity does not require company.”

It was a powerful indictment, and it effectively destroyed the newly created junta. The Ortodoxos withdrew from the pact; Pazos resigned from the July 26 Movement; and Faure Chomón, the new leader of the Directorio, began planning his own invasion of Cuba. Fidel still faced a showdown with his llano Directorate; that would come in a few months’ time. Meanwhile, Che and Daniel crossed swords in a bitter exchange of letters. Defiantly proclaiming his Marxist beliefs and his restored faith in Fidel “as an authentic leader of the leftist bourgeoisie,” Che castigated Daniel and the Directorate’s “rightists” for having shamefully allowing the Movement’s “ass to be buggered” in Miami. Daniel vigorously denied Che’s charges and accused him of thinking Cuba would be better off under future “Soviet domination.” He and his llano comrades also had their reservations about the Miami Pact, Daniel insisted, but they believed that before breaking with it, the July 26 Movement should decide, “once and for all,” what it stood for and where it was headed.
*

More than any other documents, those of the epistolary war between Daniel and Che reveal the depth of the ideological divisions within the Movement. Daniel wrote his rebuttal letter to Che before knowing of Fidel’s break with the Miami Pact, but the die had already been cast—Cuba’s other opposition groups were being informed they could have a role in the Cuban revolution only after acknowledging Fidel as its paramount leader, and on his conditions. And soon, the news of Fidel’s rupture was all over Cuba. As promised, Che ran Fidel’s letter off on his mimeograph machine, and on February 2,
Bohemia
reproduced it in a special press run of 500,000 copies. On January 6, as he was having it printed, Che wrote Fidel to praise him for the “historic” document. “Lenin already said it, the policy of principle is the best policy. The end result will be magnificent. ... Now you are on the great path as one of the two or three [leaders] of America who will get to power by a multitudinous armed struggle.”

At the time, only a few people besides Che were aware of the momentous step Fidel had actually taken, one that would eventually affect the lives of millions of people in Cuba and beyond. His public break with the Miami Pact was the visible tip of a much greater political decision that, for now, was to remain a carefully guarded secret.

Fidel had always known that one day he was going to have to confront the United States, but he had hoped to avoid doing so until after he seized
power. The tentacles of the United States in his homeland went too far for half measures, and if he was ever to govern as he saw fit and achieve a genuine national liberation for Cuba, he was going to have to sever them completely. As Che understood it, this meant carrying out a socialist revolution, although Fidel had carefully refrained from mentioning the dreaded word in public.

Until now, Fidel had kept the Communist Party of Cuba, the Partido Socialista Popular, at arm’s length. He had shaped his political message to appeal to a broad-based political alliance and to avoid antagonizing the Americans. But the unmistakable signs of U.S. influence in the Miami Pact and on some of the July 26 people in the llano had shown Fidel that the days of temporizing were over.

On the eve of the
Granma
’s sailing, the PSP had made clear to Fidel that it supported his goal of ousting Batista but disagreed with his tactics. As time went on, the Party was forced to consider increasing its involvement in the armed struggle. Despite continued discomfort with Fidel’s war strategy, it made sense for the Communists to come to terms with him. If the Party wanted a say in the country’s political future, there would have to be some sort of alliance. Under pressure from the United States, Batista had begun to persecute Party members ruthlessly, using them as scapegoats for the political violence. In view of Che Guevara’s known political affinities and his close relationship with Fidel, he was the obvious rebel leader for the Party to approach as it pursued the goal of closer links with Castro. These overtures came early in the struggle. On Party orders to assist him, a young Communist, Pablo Ribalta, had traveled from Havana to join Che in the summer of 1957.

Ribalta, a black Cuban, had studied at Prague’s International Union of Students and graduated from the Communist Party’s elite school for political cadres. At the time of his trip, he was a member of the National Secretariat of the Communist Youth. Ribalta has confirmed that he was selected by the Party in mid-1957 to join Che in the sierra for the specific mission of carrying out political indoctrination among the rebel troops. “Che had asked for a person with my characteristics: a teacher, with a good level of political education and some experience in political work.”

Ribalta entered the sierra from Bayamo and arrived at La Mesa at a time when Che was on the move. In his absence, Ribalta organized the incorporation of local Communists into the guerrilla forces and set up a political indoctrination school. When Che finally returned, he sat Ribalta down and questioned him. Apparently satisfied, Che ordered Ribalta to undergo a period of guerrilla training. A few months later, Che sent him to Minas del Frío, where he had established a permanent rearguard base with a school
for recruits, a prison, and other facilities. Ribalta was to be an instructor, and his task was to produce ‘integrally educated’ fighters. “I had precise instructions not to say that I was a member of the PSP,” Ribalta said, “although a group of leaders, including Fidel, knew it; but at that moment it could have created divisions, and I complied to the letter of the law.”

The Party had also maintained discreet contacts with Fidel and other Directorate officials, culminating in a meeting in October 1957 between Fidel and Ursino Rojas, a PSP official and former leader of the Sugar Workers’ Union. According to Rojas, they discussed the possibility of forging a coalition between their organizations and also explored the main obstacles to such a plan—the rampant anticommunism of some of the Movement’s llano leaders, and within the new July 26 labor front group, the Frente Obrero Nacional. For Fidel, some sort of an alliance with the PSP made good practical sense. Whatever his differences with the Party, it had the best political organization in the country, with long-standing ties to organized labor, making its active participation in the upcoming general strike vital. Until Fidel was able to impose his leadership over the entire July 26 Movement, however, any closer links with the PSP would have to be both gradual and discreet.

Feeling more secure about the political direction of the revolution, and with the renewal of his faith in Fidel, Che became more open about his Marxist convictions. He even indulged in some discreet proselytizing among his fighters, most of whom were not only politically ignorant but viscerally anticommunist, much like their American neighbors during the Cold War. Communism was widely perceived as the “Red threat,” a kind of insidious foreign infection to be both feared and resisted. How Che dealt with this mentality among his own men is interesting.

Enrique Acevedo, the fifteen-year-old runaway who had joined up with his older brother and been assigned to Che’s
descamisados
, later recalled that once when Che was away, some of his men were arguing over whether their
jefe
was a Communist. One of them who insisted that Che was a
ñangaro—
a “Red”—challenged the others. “Haven’t you noticed that in the commander’s squad there is a great mystery surrounding his books, and they read them at night in a closed circle? That’s how he works: first he recruits those closest to him, and later they go filtering it throughout the troops.”

Acevedo was too much in awe of Che to approach him personally on the topic, but gradually he and the other fighters in Che’s column came to realize that their
comandante
believed in socialism. The first to know it were the rebels attached to his general staff. One of them was Ramón “Guile” Pardo, a teenager who had joined the column in August 1957, following in his older brother Israel’s footsteps. Over the course of several months, the
younger Pardo became one of Che’s group of devoted mascots, mostly teenage boys who served as his couriers and personal bodyguards.