The prior post in this series (El Bogotazo I) reviewed Fidel Castro’s violent career in Cuba during high school and college, including arrests and questioning for suspicion of murder and more. This is important background for today’s post, which picks up in 1948, when the United States, concerned by Communist infiltration throughout Latin America, recommended the creation of the Organization of American States (OAS), an idea which was quickly seized upon by South American countries.
The function of this new organization was to provide a forum for the nations in the American continent to meet to discuss and address regional problems. For example, fast forward to 1962: President Rómulo Betancourt demanded and got the expulsion of Cuba from the OAS given repeated, proven attempts by Fidel Castro to subvert and overthrow the government of Venezuela, including shipments of armaments and men to Communist guerrilla groups operating under Castro. See Spurning Fidel.
The OAS was to be inaugurated during an international conference taking place in Bogota, Colombia in April, 1948. Although one could argue the site was appropriate, nevertheless, one could also argue that the timing was all wrong. Colombia was gearing up to hold presidential elections less than two years later, in 1950, and the Unión Nacional de Izquierda Revolucionaria (UNIR, translated “National Union of the Revolutionary Left”) were vocal in asserting those elections would be won by their candidate, Jorge Eliécer Gaitán, a radical leftist populist.
Gaitán’s extremist nature was obvious, as witness his frequently repeated motto: “If I advance, follow me, if I retreat, push me, if I betray you, kill me, and if I die, avenge me! To the charge!” His bellicosity was not empty rhetoric. A few months before the OAS conference, he called for a march against the conservative government, “The March of Silence”, to which over 100,000 came, many of them fully armed.
To add to tensions, Rómulo Betancourt, who had assumed the temporary presidency of Venezuela by means of a military coup d’etat, and who was still known for his Communism, which was later abandoned (see Envy), had signaled his support for Gaitán and did not denounce rumors signaling that should the elections be fraudulent (interpreted to mean, should Gaitán lose), Venezuela would support the overthrow of Colombia’s conservative government. Talk about chickens coming home to roost: a little over a decade later, Betancourt led the expulsion of Castro from the OAS for having sought the overthrow of his government.
Opposed to the creation of the OAS, Argentina and the Soviet Union agreed together to sabotage it by surreptitiously financing a conference of Latin American “students” to denounce “Yankee aggression”, meaning the creation of the OAS. This conference would be held simultaneously with the OAS inauguration conference. The Soviet Union and Argentina sought to capitalize on the smoldering animosity between Colombia and Venezuela as well as the anti-American Zeitgeist in Latin American universities.
Argentina emerged from the Second World War as a major economic power. However, Juan Domingo Perón, yet another leftist military leader (see Right-Wing Military for discussion on military leftism) helped overthrow its government in a military coup and was its dictator from 1946 to 1955. He was very anti-American and had close ties with Nazi Germany and later the Soviet Union. Like all good Communists, he took Argentina from economic dominance to massive expropriations and economic decline. Argentina eventually became the poster child of hyperinflation which was eventually broken in the 1990s.
Perón and Stalin were determined to cause chaos in Bogota. They promoted, financed, and ensured the inauguration of the Congreso Estudiantil Latinoamericana (Latin American Student Congress) to be held alongside the assembly creating the OAS. The promotion and organization of the students to attend that congress was headquartered in Havana, Cuba, led by Fabio Grobart. The Congress itself was to be led by Gustavo Machado. And the star attraction of the Congress would be none other than Gaitán himself.
That would be the fuel. The lit matches would be groups of revolutionary Latin American students from all geographic points, directed from Argentina. These would travel separately and converge in Bogota a few days before the inauguration of the OAS. Their objective was to engage in violent street actions and sabotage operations ostensibly to prohibit the establishment of the OAS. The hard-nosed reality behind their purpose was actually to foment chaos.
Among the student groups traveling to Bogota would be a handpicked group of four from Havana, Cuba. And one of the four was Fidel Castro, fully in his element.
Juan Domingo Perón (1895-1974). Similar to Hugo Chavez, Perón was very charismatic and remained popular despite disastrous policies which did great economic harm to Argentina. He was overthrown and exiled in 1955 by a militar coup. Nevertheless, from exile, he used the Argentinian left and the Communist guerrillas to sow widespread chaos and lawlessness, eventually paving the way for his return to power in 1973. Joseph Stalin (1878-1953) was yet another left-wing military leader who was diligent and successful in creating havoc, chaos, and death in the bloody 20th century. His “alliance” with the United States and England during World War II allowed unprecedented Soviet access to allied military and diplomatic sources which harmed the West and from which she has yet to fully extricate. Rómulo Betancourt (1908-1981), circa 1945, a time when his sympathies continued to lean heavily to port, creating long-lasting animosity with neighboring Colombia, and throwing fuel to an increasingly volatile environment. Jorge Eliécer Gaitán (1903-1948). “If I advance, follow me, if I retreat, push me, if I betray you, kill me, and if I die, avenge me! To the charge!” He was assassinated in April, 1948.
A dear cousin’s re-discovery of some old letters (from the 50s) stirred recollections of the years I lived in Miami under the tutelage of Aunt Sarah and Uncle Luis, whom we called Uncle Wichy.
Five decades ago, our paternal grandfather’s side of the family met in Miami for the wedding of one of his granddaughters. Twenty of us met for that event, and, although several had met separately on different occasions over the years, all twenty of us did not meet again for over three decades afterwards, when we had a family reunion in December, 2006.
By then, five had died, eight marriages had been celebrated, and numerous children had been born. And so, we decided to celebrate a family reunion where the remaining fifteen could meet once again. Adding spouses and children who were able to come, the group that day numbered forty-six, mas o menos.
Since December, 2006, five more have passed away, including Aunt Sarah, the last surviving child of our paternal grandfather. The last member to have passed away was my cousin Max (Papaito), who died December 19, 2021.
This post borrows from a recollection I wrote about fifteen years ago about that family reunion in 2006, which I hope gives a little sense of our gratitude towards one another and to God.
We gathered in a one-bedroom condominium near the beach, overlooking the inter-coastal waterway. This type of arrangement we were used to as children when sometimes as many as 20 cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents plus assorted visitors gathered annually in Miami in a small, one-bathroom house whose address and telephone number we still know by heart.
For many years, that house was home as we’d leave Venezuela to go to school in the States. In this way, family history repeated itself, in that, a generation earlier, our own parents had to leave Cuba to go to school in Massachusetts and while there they all stayed in an uncle’s house and learned to live with one another and to appreciate one another and to love one another. Thus, for two generations, these extended families were quite close, and our challenge is to instill that sense of communion to the third and fourth generations who are already amongst us. It won’t be easy, and it won’t be done as it was when our parents lived in Cuba and we in Venezuela. But it can be done.
Funny how all seems laughter and joy looking back. Well, in a real sense, it was laughter and joy, because, although there may have been fights and misunderstandings and even bitterness for a time, it all turned out to a strengthening of and appreciation for our generational bonds. And that is certainly cause for laughter and joy.
So, at the time, while Tom may not have appreciated Jack’s sticking a straw in his eye; and Jack may not have understood Tom’s declaring his brain to be upside down; and while Julie detested wearing everyone’s hand-me-downs, even the boys’; and while Dan could show his displeasure by throwing a shoe through the wall (names have all been changed to protect the guilty); etc., those of us who remain, appreciate and love one another today. We wouldn’t change events, even if we could.
Our beloved Aunt Sarah would ensure we all went with her to church every Sunday morning. We all remember how, at the conclusion of each service, the choir would sing the beautiful benediction, The Lord Bless You and Keep You (from Numbers 6). Easter Sundays were very special as she would get us up well before dawn and drive us — in more ways than one — to the coast to attend sunrise services. As we grew older and more resistant to such early reveille, she resorted to threats, such as, “Wait till I tell your parents!” That would work for some, but not all. But we were always very glad we went.
She would also insist on outings, usually on Sundays after church. How she put up with our bickering, our foot dragging, our resistance to going anywhere, we’ll never know. Maybe she anticipated how, at the end of every single one of those outings, we would be enjoying ourselves so much, we would not want to leave. Maybe she knew they were for our benefit and that one day we would appreciate them. Maybe she was simply a very determined lady, whom we all loved.
And, for the most part, we can thank her for telling us about Jesus. That’s some heritage to leave to sons, daughters, nieces, and nephews.
As for Uncle Wichy, I can say, with all honesty, he scared the living daylights out of me. Once, upon arrival from the airport, I, about 7 years old, was greeted by him, whom I had not seen for a year, with, “Now remember, if you misbehave, you’ll get Pow-Pow”! I stared in stunned silence as he roared with laughter.
He took us deep sea fishing and “lobstering”. Once, while pulling up a lobster trap, the lines and eventually the trap caught in the ship’s propeller, destroying trap and catch. We continued talking and fishing as if nothing had happened. He rebuked us quietly, “This is a great loss for José (his friend who had agreed to take us along) and I feel very bad about this.” Even though José told him it was nothing and “Don’t worry about this; this is a typical loss” still Uncle Wichy fretted the rest of the day and into the night.
He mellowed with the years, and we grew to understand his love and genuine interest and concern for us. He died in 1995.
Besides Aunt Sarah, our paternal grandparents had three sons: Uncle Max, Uncle Charles (“Charlie”), and Uncle Alfred. Both my father, Charles, and Uncle Alfred were murdered. Uncle Max died in 2007, less than a year after the family reunion. Uncle Alfred never married, but the first two did and their wives, Tía Carmencita and Tía Adita, regaled us with their stories for years afterwards….
As we shared pictures and music in 2006, we recalled these things and much more. And we were grateful our own children were able to attend.
My mother, Tía Adita (91) is the last surviving family member of that generation who was in that 1972 photo.
December, 1972 Cousins either after church on a Sunday or after Easter Sunrise Service, circa 1963 The years flew by. The affection remained.
This being Easter Week, I thought it good to re-publish the post below, “Something Lost”, especially considering the comments by the old schoolteacher towards the end of the post.
I do not doubt that he was right: “I feel there was something lost, truly I do.”
Since I also remember the days he refers to — when the Bible was read and prayer made in class — that marks me as a Troglodyte. Maybe so, but my sense is similar: there was something lost.
I wish you all a good Easter Week.
Something Lost
A few years ago, I visited Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, on a personal matter, after an absence of close to four decades.
To drive and walk around was to invite affecting memories, not only of Bethlehem, but of family, of childhood friends, of the steel company, of Venezuela, of what could have been. I was offered the opportunity to visit my uncle’s old former apartment site on Market Street, from which the Bethlehem Steel stacks are clearly, and augustly, visible decades after her bankruptcy in 2001 and dissolution in 2003.
While in town, I came across the transcript of an interview of the late Earl J. Bauman, a teacher in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania high schools for 30 years, who also worked for several years at Bethlehem Steel during World War II, and who otherwise led an eventful life.
Our teachers in El Pao were recruited in Bethlehem, although not all were from there. For instance, one of my teachers, Mrs. Miller, was from New Mexico and boy did she resent Florida being named “The Sunshine State”! She firmly believed, and could “prove”, that New Mexico was the true Sunshine State.
Mr. Bauman’s comments seem to be coming from my own Bethlehem Steel teachers in El Pao, Venezuela.
I believe the reader will appreciate the commentary by Mr. Bauman (1910-January 12, 2000), born in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. He was the son of George and Matilda Bauman née Shearer. He was married to Grace E. Bauman, née Shoenberger.
Mr. Bauman taught history, government, and economics. A full transcript is linked below for those readers who would appreciate reading more of what he had to say.
Excerpts:
Well, I was born here in Fountain Hill [now a suburb of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania] in 1910. We’ve been residing here ever since that time.
I attended the Fountain Hill School, and then went to Liberty High and then I quit. I was making more money than my dad was playing with a dance orchestra. We used to make as much one night as he made in a week just playing with the big bands. And then one thing led to another, and the Depression hit. And finally, there was no music market. I went to South America in one summer playing with a band, and come back, and then it was difficult to find any kind of work, because the Depression hit. It hit pretty hard. And then I had an opportunity to go back to school, then I went to Moravian Prep. And I finished up my high school work there.
Then I went to Moravian College and earned my Bachelor’s. And then, of course, it was still difficult to get work. I worked at the steel company as a clerk in the beam yard offices, and on their police force during the early period of the World War II. And then finally a teaching job.
….
And then I taught until I guess it was about the late Forties [1948] when I decided to go back to Lehigh for my Master’s degree in history, and I finished that, I believe it was 1954, somewhere around in there. Men like Dr. Harmon was the head of the history department, Dr. Gipson, Dr. Brown, and I don’t think any of them are there anymore. Some may have died, passed on, retired. And then I kept on teaching.
….
Teaching wasn’t quite the pleasure it used to be. Yeah, that changed quite considerably.
….
That’s the flu epidemic you’re talking about, yes. I remember because, and I can even take you where the hospitals were and they died like flies [emphasis mine, RMB]. It would have been right across the street from where I did my undergraduate practice teaching where this junior high school is now, right across the street in that area there, they had built these temporary wards. The hospital up here couldn’t handle it. It was too small. I remember that, yes. I remember a lot of— You’ll see in the pictures, see at that time I would have been nine years old, and I did get around and my parents talked, but that wasn’t the only thing, we had a lot of things like there was scarlet fever, and diphtheria, and polio. So many of my classmates were afflicted….
…. You had to put on your porch, your house would be quarantined, that’s the word, diphtheria here and scarlet fever there, and measles here, measles there, and today it’s wonderful how all these youngsters have been protected against these physical ailments, which make them more competitive in their life today.
[Note: the sick were quarantined. The rest went on with their work and lives. For discussions on quarantine and the current approach in most states and countries, see here, here, here, here, and here. Mr. Bauman’s allusion to the “flu epidemic” where “they died like flies” is a reference to the Spanish Flu, or The Great Influenza. See here for more.]
[Was crime a big problem?] No. No. You had nothing like—I can remember, we used to— I don’t think any of the neighbors really did much in the way of locking doors, no such thing. (chuckles) As a matter of fact, maybe this is something we should have kept in Fountain Hill here. In those days when I was a youngster, we had a curfew. When that whistle blew, you got off the street, you better not be out on the street unless you were with a parent.
….
So they said to me, ‘Well, would you do it?’ I said, ‘You’re asking me?’ I said, ‘I know that you squeeze a trigger somewhere and the projectile comes out the front, that’s all I know.’ I said, ‘I don’t think I can do much for them.’ Somebody said, ‘Well, why don’t you try it?’ One person suggested that I call the Marine barracks and get help. So I did, and you’d be surprised how much fun I had over the years teaching safety and all this and that and I can’t hit the broadside part of a barn, and I coached for 15 years and one of my teams went to the state finals, so we won (inaudible) of the division title after I got to Liberty where we got a large student body. Two southern divisions and we had a District 11 and a Northeastern regional championship and we went to the state finals. Now my youngster has, he picked it up, but we wouldn’t let him have any rifles here at home until he became, I thought qualified. I hate to put material like that in the hands of kids. Now of course, he’s a specialist. He loads his own ammunition. He has guns and pistols. He’s in a pistol league and he can shoot. He stands 75 feet away and he’ll knock your ears off. He has terrific scores, close to 300, shooting at 75 feet with high-caliber pistol. He (inaudible) shoots better than a lot of the policemen. He says, one of the faults of the policeman, he said the policeman doesn’t know his tool that well. He said they misuse it.
….
Well, I remember, you wouldn’t remember this, but I remember when the Lord’s Prayer was banned from school and that was like—I don’t know, I can’t see it because of that, but I think the morale tone of the school began to decline. The mode of dress became careless. The mode of conduct became care— Not by all the students. Some students still come from a home that’s still a home and that insists on certain moral standards.
And I guess a lot of it came from the aftermath of the wars and there would be a lot of things that influenced it, but I think the dropping of that in school was one thing that wasn’t good, because I remember we always had—I used to have my youngsters, and I never had one refuse, and I had Catholics, Protestants, Jewish students in my class, and I always used to read our schedule. And I think once a week we got a guidance period and I used to plan, I felt the kids should take part in opening exercises. It exposes them a little bit into leadership. I used to have them all read passages, and I didn’t insist that anybody read any specific passage, but they were allowed to read from the Old Testament, the New Testament, whatever they would like to read, and then they would lead the Lord’s Prayer, and then we’d have the salute to the flag. It was sort of starting the day off in a sort of moral tone in a way.
Then from then on, things would go from one thing to the other. But I missed that, and I thought it was something that was lost through it. I can’t prove it. I’m not sure. Maybe it were the other factors that made this moral tone of dress and carelessness go down, because as soon as kids start coming in my classes with jeans on and patched—And it wasn’t that they came from poor parents because they had money, because the kid had more money in his pocket as spending money than his new pair of pants and shirt would cost, and they had weeds galore in them. If they weren’t smoking Chesterfields20, it was something else. They were loaded with money. And that may have had something to do with it, the income of the families.
So, I don’t know, I think there’s a lot of factors and the fact that we dropped the reading of the Bible and the Lord’s Prayer and all that sort of thing sort of took something out of the classroom. I don’t know. I felt something was lost.
After it was gone, well, then what could you do? I mean, the law said you didn’t dare do it, so you didn’t do it. You still had the salute to the flag, and then oh, in the beginning I didn’t stop altogether, but I didn’t break the law. I asked them to have a moment of silence, soft prayer to themselves. I don’t recall ever anybody objecting to that, and then we turn around then and had the salute to the flag, the Pledge of Allegiance and that sort of thing.
But I feel there was something lost, truly I do.
….
For those interested in reading further, the full transcript is linked below.
Bethlehem Steel main plant, Bethlehem Pennsylvania The stacks as seen from Fountain Hill borough. Mrs. Miller never forgave Florida for “stealing” New Mexico’s logo. Above is a 1932 license tag proving her case. The logo was first used by New Mexico in the 1880’s. Florida was known as “The Citrus State”. But they cleverly adopted their current logo by formal resolution, something New Mexico had failed to do. And the rest is history.
Having mentioned “El Bogotazo” in my prior post, I have come to realize that relatively few are aware of that awful event. And the few who are, see it as a wholly indigenous conflagration resulting entirely from local politics, exacerbated beyond the breaking point by the shocking assassination of a left-wing presidential candidate, Jorge Eliécer Gaitán. This horrible event set off the terrible 10-year period in Colombian history known as La Violencia. See Hicacos for a brief overall commentary on the situation in South America in 1966, after the end of La Violencia.
As Orlando Avendaño notes in his book, Días de sumisión, “El Bogotazo” was the first of many “azos” in Latin America, including “El Paquetazo” and “El Caracazo” (Venezuela), “El Rosariazo” (Argentina), “El Limazo” (Peru); “El Ibañazo” (Chile); and more. As uncritically reported, both at the time of the occurrences as well as in retrospect (e.g., see Wikipedia), they were all alike: “spontaneous” uprisings by “abused and overwhelmed” peoples against “corrupt oligarchies” and “yanqui-dominated” governments”.
I am often (though not always) amused by journalists and professors and their followers who never question how events can share so many common, even predictable, characteristics and yet all be described as “spontaneous”. Without even batting an eye.
A brief review of the first “azo”, the “Bogotazo” will help us understand the later ones, at least two of which occurred in Venezuela, as future posts will note.
This will be a two-part post because, before going into the Bogotazo itself, we need to take a glance at a man who was a player in it, though this fact is rarely if ever mentioned.
Fidel Castro was a violent man. The pitiless nature of his character was notable even in childhood where his teachers would report his bullying and boorishness to his father, so much so that his own father, not known for compassion, was angered and eventually placed him in the prestigious Colegio de Belén where he assumed the Jesuits would keep him minding his manners (see prior posts).
In the University of Havana, which he entered in 1945, his lawlessness was given much freer rein. The university was completely autonomous and a “haven for gangsters and political movements”. Murders were frequent and almost unremarkable because of their ubiquitousness. In a four-year period in the mid-40s, over 100 mob-style murders had been committed. Even American newspapers reported on the pandemonium. For example, a Times-Picayune (New Orleans) August 16, 1940, headline read, “Professor Slain by Gunmen in Uptown Havana”; a Boston Herald headline on November 28, 1940, read “Youths Assassinate Havana Professor”; a Chicago Tribune headline from November 29, 1940, read, “Youths, Picked in Lottery, Kill Cuban Teacher”; etc.
By the end of his university career, Castro had been accused and interrogated for at least two murders for which suspicion could not be denied, including the dying words of Oscar Fernandez, who identified Castro as his murderer. In both cases he would not stand trial due to lack of evidence. In another case where the victim, who survived, identified Castro as his would-be assassin, Castro again beat the rap.
One murder was that of Manolo de Castro (no relation), a well-known student revolutionary who, coincidentally, had shortly before returned from a trip to Venezuela where he had been invited to observe the latest attempt at democracy there. Manolo was with the Movimiento Socialista Revolucionario (MSR) whose main opposition was the Unión Insurreccional Revolucionaria (UIR), headed by Emilio Tró, who had befriended Fidel Castro by shielding him from being accused of attempted murder — Castro had shot and wounded a UIR comrade, but Tró took a liking to Castro and actually gave him a pistol which Castro carried with him for years — and all was forgotten.
Emilio Tró was a man who believed nothing could be accomplished without violence. This is not to question his genuine courage. For example, he went into exile to the United States from whence he joined the Army and fought in the Europe theater during the Second World War. Some accounts report that he also fought in the Pacific, although that is disputed. He earned at least one Purple Heart and was commended for bravery under fire.
We are not cartoon or cardboard characters. We all have shades and self-contradictions, and men like Tró, more than most. An ardent leftist, he thrived in the “gangsterism” at the University of Havana, eventually leading the UIR, to which he invited Castro. Friends and acquaintances testified to his compulsive insistence on violence and death to all enemies and to impose a new government on Cuba. However, paradoxically, he had no “program”. In other words, although he thrived in leftist circles, he did not propose nor promote a Communist government, or any ideological government. It seemed his only focus was vengeance against “the guilty” and only afterwards, supposedly, would he determine what type of government to impose.
The utter lunacy of politics in Cuba, is illustrated by then-President Ramón Grau San Martín’s having named Emilio Tró, known as a “political gangster” with murders or attempted murders on his account, as Director of the National Police Academy. Grau had also named another unsavory character, Mario Salabarría, as Chief of Research and Information, another security apparatus with its own weapons and personnel. Tró and Salabarría were bitter enemies and each had attempted to murder the other.
Grau’s rationale was that by naming such bitter enemies to his administration he would neutralize their violence. Sort of a Mutually Assured Destruction approach to local mayhem which the United States and Soviet Union would bring to an art form during the Cold War, which also spawned mayhem in myriad “hot war” spots around the globe.
Emilio Tró insisted on installing his offices in the same building where Salabarría and his team worked. Anyone should have seen that Grau’s gambit would not work.
Emilio Tró was assassinated at his friend’s home where he was having dinner. Six others were killed along with him, including his friend’s wife and child, who was in the womb, near full term. The massacre took place in a firefight lasting over three hours in a Havana neighborhood and much of it was caught on film and photos, since suppressed. The perpetrators were a rival gang, headed by Tró’s bitter enemy, Mario Salabarría, who was later found guilty, along with others.
Despite the clear guilt of Salabarria’s gang, Fidel Castro accused the MSR, specifically, Manolo de Castro, who was murdered months later.
It is important to understand the nature of Fidel Castro. He was pitiless, cynical, and ambitious for power. He gravitated naturally to violence and to totalitarianism and he would brook no opponents, whether real or imaginary. His character is brilliantly reflected by those he gravitated to, men such as Tró.
Parallel with these events, Castro had been meeting with the Dominican, Juan Bosch, who had sought exile in Cuba. Castro flattered Bosch, invited him to speak to a group of university radicals, and begged him to be included in a planned incursion into the Dominican Republic with finance and weaponry supplied by Venezuela. The team had not accepted Castro, but with Bosch’s insistence, they had no choice.
It did not end well for Fidel: the leader, Rolando Masferrer, became so infuriated at Castro’s arrogance and insubordination that he punched him in the nose. Castro never forgave nor forgot that insult. He attempted to murder Masferrer a few weeks later but failed, and Masferrer’s accusation never got traction, given his own radical politics. Castro eventually prevailed, having arranged for Masferrer’s car bomb assassination in Miami in 1975.
It was this Fidel Castro whom the Comintern ensured was sent to Colombia to frustrate the creation of the Organization of American States (OAS) as a hedge against Soviet Communist activity in Latin America.
Manolo de Castro, assassinated in 1948 Rolando Masferrer, left (1918-1975), assassinated by car bomb in Miami, Florida Emilio Tró, assassinated in 1947
The corollary is a variation of “the devil made me do it”. In the case of Castro, the received text is that the United States made him do it.
And that is yet another modern canard.
We’ve looked at the origins of Communist ideology in Latin America (see Protevangelium and prior posts) and demonstrated that such predated the Monroe Doctrine, not to mention 20th Century American foreign policy. This is not to argue that United States’ policies are without fault (they have much to answer for, especially since the mid-19th century, but that is another tale). Our point is simple: the America-drove-Fidel-and-Hugo-(not-to-mention-Ho)-to-Communism is a ridiculous assertion, albeit a dangerously misleading one.
When Hitler invaded the Soviet Union in 1941, thereby breaking the Hitler-Stalin Pact (officially called the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact), Fidel Castro was a 15 year old high school student in the prestigious Colegio de Belén in Havana. The prior year, 1940, Fulgencio Batista had been elected president of Cuba and immediately set about to court Communist political support.
Batista legalized the Communist party and enabled the return of Fabio Grobart and Gustavo Machado, along with others from exile in Mexico. They had all been expelled (see here) from Cuba for their subversive activities seeking the overthrow of the Cuban government and the installation of a Communist regime. What possessed Batista to believe these men had shed their nefarious ideology and Comintern membership and would now play fair remains clouded in political, historical, and psychological mystery. Other than the average politician’s lust for power, further explanations need to be sought elsewhere. The fact remains that Batista enabled the Communists in Cuba.
Grobart’s and Machado’s mission was to serve as Soviet liaison in the Caribbean region and to support the development of Communist parties therein. Seeing Batista’s naiveté, Grobart moved the general quarters of the Latin American Comintern to Cuba from Mexico, wherefrom, as its director, he now had a free hand for his mission not only in Cuba, but in all of Latin America, a role which he and Machado undertook with great relish and effectiveness.
While Grobart and Machado did their thing establishing the Comintern in Havana, the Jesuits in the same city were doing theirs, indoctrinating their students, sons of well-to-do Cuban families, in the Colegio de Belén. The Jesuits had been expelled from all Spanish lands, including Cuba, in 1767, by decree of King Carlos III of Spain. That decree was lifted in the 19th Century and the Jesuits returned to Cuba in 1853, once the decree was overturned and Queen Isabella II founded the Colegio de Belén. For more on Jesuit expulsions in the 18th century see here.
Counterintuitively, Colegio de Belén was a hotbed of pro-Spanish Republic (Communist) sentiments. This can seem surprising because, as popularly conceived, Roman Catholics were supporters of Francisco Franco (see here). Nevertheless, as usual, the easy or superficial supposition is not always the correct one. A recent Jesuit history recounts a representative event: a Jesuit who served as something of a chaplain to Francisco Franco but who joined the Communist party after the war.
What is not disputed is the historically well-documented political involvement of the Jesuits throughout the order’s history. As its members focused on “helping the poor” while they educated the sons of the elites, their remedies tended towards Socialistic solutions with a patina of Scriptural justification. Of course, a thorough understanding of the Eighth Commandment, “Thou shalt not steal”, would have helped the order temper its Socialistic leanings. That Commandment formed the basis of the Fifth Amendment to the United States’ Constitution which, when properly applied, prohibits the taking of life or property “without due process of law….”
Neither the Commandment nor the Amendment are more than a glint in the pen or gun of hardened thieves’ or politicians’ intent on taking what is not theirs. And Castro’s high school career among the Jesuits did not create any meaningful deterrence against such takings.
One other characteristic Colegio de Belén strengthened and developed in Castro was a hatred against The United States, for their humiliation of Spain in the late Spanish American War. See War for more information on that event.
Both traits — lack of respect for others’ lives and property and hatred for America — were initially instilled in Castro by his father (see here) who was cruel to his workers, mostly from Haiti, and who hated the Americans although he became very rich working and doing business with them.
When Hitler broke the Hitler-Stalin Pact and the United States and Britain formally allied themselves with the Communists. The Soviets opened an embassy in Cuba with an ambassador who represented them in both Havana and Washington. Upon the opening of the embassy in Havana, Grobart and Machado went to work with alacrity and by the end of 1944 inaugurated a series of “cultural exchange” programs, to which Colegio de Belén sent a student delegation, among which was Fidel Castro.
(Note the year: 1944 — the war was not yet over, the Soviets and the Americans were “allies”, but the Soviets always had other plans besides survival, and they never lost sight of such.)
The dissertations were fulsome in their praise of the Communist revolution and its eventual worldwide triumph. Castro was especially impressed with Gustavo Machado’s oration relating his efforts to recreate a Latin America united under the Communist flag. He dwelt on the massive petroleum reserves in Venezuela, who at the time was the principal exporter of petroleum in the world and the third producer after the United States and the Soviet Union. According to Machado, Venezuela’s riches would be more than sufficient to finance a Latin America union allied to the Soviets.
Machado’s comments rang true. Fast forward to the late 50s and one finds Venezuela and Cuba among the richest countries in Latin America, both being major exporters of petroleum and sugar, respectively.
Upon conclusion of the Second World War and the outbreak of the Cold War, the Soviet Union continued, with renewed vigor, to work for control over Cuba and Venezuela. Meanwhile, Fidel Castro, having completed his tenure in Colegio de Belén, entered the University of Havana school of law and immediately linked up with extreme leftist gangs.
Readers will need to go to other sources for details on Castro’s violent acts during his student years, not only in Cuba but in the Dominican Republic and in Colombia (the “Bogotazo” in 1948). For our present purposes it is sufficient to know that he was no late bloomer. His North Star was taking power as a Communist, not only in Cuba, but in Venezuela and then all of Latin America. He saw himself as a mystical, Communist José Martí, Simón Bolivar, Francisco Miranda, and more; one who would embody and realize his understanding of the goals and dreams of those men.
He was engaged in many violent activities including his murderous attack on the Moncada Barracks in 1953, for which many of his comrades were executed but he and his brother, Raul, were spared thanks to Roman Catholic intervention. Batista, ignorant that the definition of insanity is repeating the same action and expecting a different result, foolishly amnestied them in 1955 upon which they exiled themselves to Mexico only to return in 1956 and set up headquarters in the Sierra Maestra from whence the Communists eventually triumphed with no small military assistance from Venezuela.
In Venezuela, meanwhile, the era of coups interspersed with duly elected governments continued (see here). By the time Castro returned to Cuba in 1956, Venezuela was ruled by Marcos Pérez Jiménez (see here), and his links with Venezuela continued to strengthen.
Colegio de Belén, circa 1940, the time that Castro was a student there Fidel Castro, far left, second row from top, circa 1942, Colegio de Belén basketball team Raul (B. 1931) and Fidel Castro (1926 – 2016), circa 1964. Vyacheslav Mkhaylovich Molotov, for whom the Molotov Cocktail is named, (1890-1986) and Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893-1946), in 1939 after signing the Molotov-Ribbentrop (Stalin-Hitler) Pact.
Fulgencio Batista (1901-1973), circa 1934 Aftermath of “El Bogotazo” in Colombia, 1948. One of Castro’s early international involvements.
