Companero

by Jorge G. Castaneda

  American sources also differ—both among themselves and with their Cuban and Soviet counterparts—as to the true nature of U.S. policy toward Cuba. In Bundy’s words, “I remember that in the fall of ’62 there was great frustration about Cuba and considerable confusion about what we should do. In my opinion, covert action is a psychological salve for inaction. We had no intention to invade Cuba, but it seems … that there was a very solid picture in Moscow that we were going to do something more than we were.”70 McNamara explained, for his part, “Let me say that we had no plan to invade Cuba, and I would have opposed, the idea strongly if it ever came up. …” He then qualified his statement, saying, “Okay, we had no intent. … That’s my point. We thought those covert operations were terribly ineffective, and you thought they were ominous. We saw them very differently.”71

  Sergo Mikoyan (who accompanied his father, Anastas, to Cuba in November 1962) states categorically that the notion of installing missiles on the island originated with Khrushchev, who saw no other way of forestalling a U.S. invasion.72 When McNamara asked Andrei Gromyko in 1992 why the Soviets deployed missiles with nuclear warheads in Cuba, the former foreign minister replied with brutal clarity that “[the Soviet] action was intended to strengthen the defensive capability of Cuba, and to avert the threats against it. That is all.”73 According to Mikoyan, Khrushchev first insinuated the convoluted, half-baked scheme to his father at the end of April 1962. The deputy premier dissented, arguing that the Cubans would reject it, and the Americans would find out and raise hell. He was astonished by Fidel’s acceptance, and by Biryuzov’s pledge that the missiles would be deployed in secret. Sergo Mikoyan does not deny that the Soviet military might have had ulterior motives; but, like the other Soviets, he swears that the main reason for sending missiles to Cuba was the defense of Cuba, though, of course, Malinovsky and others talked of the strategic balance. The problem was that Khrushchev did not think through the U.S. reaction. He believed that after they were informed of the missiles, U.S. Soviet relations would improve.74

  Perhaps Khrushchev was seeking an inexpensive way to improve his country’s nuclear balance with the United States. Perhaps the Soviet military wanted to test the Americans’ defense and intelligence systems. But if Khrushchev used Castro, it worked both ways. Though the initiative for the missiles might have originated in Moscow, Fidel and Che had pulled the Soviet missile card several times; Carlos Franqui even asked Khrushchev about it in Moscow.*8 Oleg Daroussenkov, Che’s Russian teacher in Havana (later in charge of Cuban relations at the Central Committee of the Soviet Communist Party), was astounded by his first conversation with Guevara and the Soviet Embassy’s economic attaché, Nikolai Kudin, in July 1961: “‘All right, Kudin,’ Che asked, ‘are the Americans going to attack us or not?’ The Americans were just over the horizon, and Che seemed to be saying that the missiles were needed so they wouldn’t come in.”75

  So the idea did not suddenly appear out of the blue; many people had already conceived it. Fidel Castro emphasized in 1992 that he himself had refrained from mentioning it in his speeches, while suggesting that Khrushchev and “several comrades” (perhaps including Che) had discussed it publicly.76 Actually, Castro did refer to the missiles at least once in 1960, as noted in the previous chapter.

  In any case, when Che and Emilio Aragonés arrived in Moscow to revise the agreement in September, they found that Khrushchev was on holiday in the Crimea. Welcomed by Leonid Brezhnev, already an important figure in the USSR hierarchy, they were promptly brushed off and told: “No, no, go and see Nikita, take the plane and go there, I don’t want to know anything about this. Take it up with Nikita.”77 The Cuban envoys left immediately for Yalta. In their meeting with Khrushchev, they threshed out the crucial issue of secrecy. Like Mikoyan at the time and Sorensen thirty years later, they questioned whether it was feasible, or even desirable, to keep the operation shrouded clandestinely. Their discussions with the Soviet premier took place on a pier at the edge of the Black Sea, where all sat huddled together in the early autumn chill: Khrushchev, Malinovsky, a military interpreter, Che, and Aragonés. The Cubans’ main concern was to persuade Khrushchev that the missile operation in Cuba could not be kept secret for long. Their intelligence had already collected data about Cuban émigrés traveling to the United States to visit their families, or writing to relatives, reporting that missiles were being deployed. Several had discovered a truck loaded with missiles. Khrushchev turned a deaf ear, simply concluding, “We must hurry.”78

  Che maintained that the two countries should sign a public military treaty.79 Khrushchev replied that this was not possible, especially as the balance of military forces was detrimental to the USSR. He promised he would send the Baltic fleet to North America if the Americans found out and anything happened, in order to restore the balance to some degree.80 Fidel Castro later corroborated this account, indicating that he himself instructed Che and Aragonés to insist that the military accord be made public—and, if necessary, the missiles’ deployment as well. Khrushchev declined. As Castro was intent on “letting Nikita take the final decision,”81 the course was set. Khrushchev ended the meeting with characteristic bravado and bluff: “If the Yankees find out about the missiles, I will send the Baltic fleet.”82

  Che and Aragonés had their doubts. They wondered if it would really be possible to deploy the Baltic fleet beyond its home waters for the first time since 1905, but they finally acceded to the Soviet decision.83 Khrushchev then accepted all the Cubans’ amendments to the text, “down to the last comma.”84 Yet when Che returned to Havana in mid-September after a week’s absence, he was uneasy. If the project could not be made public, was it sustainable? In the words of Aragonés,

  The problem was not sending the missiles. They said the missiles were to protect Cuba’s independence from an American attack. But it would have been sufficient to have a solemn declaration by the Soviet State, saying that if [the United States] attacked Cuba it would be an attack on the Soviet Union. The piece of paper would have been important, though of course the missiles were far more important than the piece of paper. We in Cuba wanted a public pact, because that nut Khrushchev took the decision together with only six members of the Cuban Communist Party leadership: Fidel Castro, Raúl Castro, Che Guevara, Bias Roca, Carlos Rafael Rodríguez, and Emilio Aragonés. Nobody else knew anything about it.*9

  Che did not yet mistrust the USSR; he did not even imagine that Khrushchev might withdraw the missiles in the event of a confrontation with Washington. Nor had he fully assimilated the Soviets’ pathetic nuclear inferiority compared with the United States. He still believed there was an essential parity between the two superpowers. Guevara even scolded Aragonés for expressing his reservations; the Argentine was firmly convinced of Soviet resolve. On the way back, they encountered several Cubans in Czechoslovakia to whom Aragonés complained about the agreement. Che retorted, “How can you say that!” Guevara had bought the deal, lock, stock, and launching pad.†3

  In retrospect, Khrushchev’s position was less harebrained than it seemed at the time, and Che’s predictions proved only partially accurate. It is now known—because Soviet participants insinuated as much at the Moscow meeting of 1989, and Fidel Castro stated so categorically at the Havana conference of January 1992—that twenty of the forty-two Soviet missiles deployed in Cuba were armed with nuclear warheads. And six tactical missile launchers, loaded with nine missiles with nuclear tips, were ready to be used in the event of a U.S. invasion.85 They entered Cuba without Washington’s realizing it. Arthur Schlesinger and Robert McNamara, who both attended the Havana conference, almost fell off their seats when they heard this.86 Furthermore, the number of Soviet troops sent to Cuba was much larger than the Americans suspected. They estimated 4,500 in early October, 10,000 at the height of the crisis, and 12,000 to 16,000 at its end. In reality, 42,000 soldiers entered Cuba, disguised with winter clothing and even snow skis. Castro has confirmed this figure, also put forth by Alexeiev and Mikoyan.
87 In other words, the Soviets were able to deploy missiles, atomic warheads, troops, and sophisticated antiaircraft equipment in Cuba before American intelligence caught on. So much so that Walt Rostow, then a State Department adviser, reported to President Kennedy in a “top-secret and sensitive” memorandum dated September 3, 1962 (less than a month before the crisis) that “on the basis of existing intelligence the Soviet military deliveries to Cuba do not constitute a substantial threat to U.S. security.”88

  The problem was not keeping the missiles secret, but what the Soviets were willing to do with them once they had been introduced into Cuba. Neither Khrushchev nor the missile commander in Cuba dared give the order to fire when the confrontation escalated. True, Soviet military officers in the field were authorized to launch the missiles with nuclear warheads; and the U-2 spy plane shot down over Cuba on October 27 was attacked under instructions from the Soviet base in Cuba—not Moscow. The crisis intensified; Kennedy, on learning that there were Soviet missiles on the island—and others on the way—ordered a naval blockade, demanding their withdrawal. Khrushchev first blustered, then blinked (in Dean Rusk’s famous phrase). On October 28, he yielded to the U.S. ultimatum. The missiles were to be withdrawn under United Nations scrutiny (which Castro never accepted). In exchange, the United States promised the U.S.S.R. not to invade Cuba—a pledge never made in writing—and to withdraw its (obsolete) missiles from Turkey, in a quid pro quo Washington never acknowledged.

  Castro felt terribly insulted, cheated, and spurned by the U.S.S.R.—both because of its surrender and because he learned of its decision on the radio. Enraged, he called Khrushchev a “sonofabitch, a bastard, an asshole.”89 He soon recovered his dignity, but was unable to deter the missile withdrawal. A couple of days later, he declared at Havana University that Khrushchev “had no cojones.”90 That very day, Fidel rejected the U.S. promise not to invade Cuba and submitted five demands: an end to the blockade and other forms of harassment by Washington, an end to exile activities against his government from the U.S., an end to all overflights, and the return of Guantánamo.

  The cry that echoed through Havana in those days—“Nikita mariquita, lo que se da no se quita” (Nikita you fairy, what you give you can’t take back)—reflected the general mood in Cuba, among both the people and the revolutionary leadership. Khrushchev’s decision proved costly. It was immediately criticized by the Chinese, who termed it “the worst treason since that of German Social-Democracy at the beginning of the First World War,”91 and by the premier’s enemies within the Soviet Union. Though his removal in October 1964 was not a direct consequence of the Caribbean fiasco, it must have played some role. Khrushchev attributed enormous importance to relations with Cuba, and also to China’s criticism of Moscow. This is amply illustrated in an extraordinary letter he sent Castro on January 31, 1963, made public only in January 1992. Thirty-one pages long, it is laced with barely disguised diatribes against the Chinese, and a few ominous observations about Cuba. Khrushchev insists that Castro visit the U.S.S.R. in the spring, inviting him to fish, hunt, and walk with him in the countryside, to heal the wounds of October. In his words,

  … it seems to me that this crisis has left a mark, although barely visible, in the relations between our states. Speaking frankly these relations are not what they were before the crisis. During the Caribbean crisis, our viewpoints did not always coincide, we did not see the different stages of the crisis in the same way. … I will not hide from you, it would be senseless to do so, that any imprudent step or even any roughness in our relations could today generate several problems. One ill-advised step or one wrong sentence could make us, and you, think. It is possible that under normal conditions, no one would attach any importance to this; but under the conditions that have now been created, I would say that serenity and self-control are necessary. I have already told you, comrade Fidel, that there now exists, in our relations with you, a certain amount of resentment, and that this harms the cause, and naturally, harms Cuba and harms us. Allow me to tell you without beating around the bush: this harms our party and our country, but these difficulties cannot benefit you either. …92

  Castro accepted Khrushchev’s invitation. During his stay in the U.S.S.R. he renegotiated several economic and military accords, and put aside the anger and tensions of the previous October and November. He did not have much choice; Khrushchev could not continue helping Cuba while it accused him of caving in to United States intimidation. Indeed, the Soviet premier had already dispatched Mikoyan to Havana in November to sue for peace and attempt to restore the Soviet Union’s badly tarnished image before his Chinese rivals and world public opinion. For three weeks, “Moscow’s Cuban” (as he was known at home) tried to convince the Cubans to accede to the different parts of the agreement with Kennedy and, especially, to tone down their criticism of Khrushchev. He succeeded only in part.

  Che Guevara was largely absent from the decisions taken during the October crisis as such. As at the time of the Bay of Pigs, he was sent to Pinar del Río as commander of the entire western region, ready to repel a U.S. invasion or, if necessary, to lead the subsequent guerrilla struggle. Rafael del Pino, a pilot hero of the Bay of Pigs, was summoned by Fidel Castro on the second day of U.S. overflights to advise him on air force strategy. According to Del Pino, who served as Fidel’s personal aide throughout the crisis (even sleeping next door to his headquarters), Che did not meet with Castro until the crisis subsided on October 28.93 They may have been in contact by telephone, but as the Cubans lacked scramblers to encrypt their communications, they can hardly have sustained any substantive exchanges.94 The persons closest to Fidel during the crisis, according to Del Pino, were the Communist Flavio Bravo and the army’s head of intelligence.95

  Che may not have participated in the intricate details of the Cuban missile crisis, at least not in its October phase; however, he played a significant role in its aftermath. According to Guevara’s biographer Ricardo Rojo, Che was with Fidel when he learned of the Soviet decision, kicking the wall in a fit of rage.96 Che was more resigned to the outcome, but, unlike Castro, he was sickened by the implacable realities of world politics during the Cold War.*10 He was not as discreet as Fidel in concealing his distaste, confessing his anger to the British Communist Party daily paper (though the interview was not published in its entirety) as follows:

  If they attack, we shall fight to the end. If the rockets had remained, we would have used them all and directed them against the very heart of the United States, including New York, in our defense against aggression. But we haven’t got them, so we shall fight with what we’ve got.†4

  Che’s intolerance for ambivalent emotions was catching up with him. He had been in an angry mood since the end of the crisis, as he admitted to his closest Soviet friend, Oleg Daroussenkov. After the missile crisis, when they enjoyed target practice together and talked things over, Che “complained that he could not discuss anything with those big shots, meaning Khrushchev. One day they say one thing, and the next day another. Khrushchev had assured him that if anything happened he would send the Baltic fleet to Cuba—and where was the fleet? Guevara was furious.”97

  Che must have perceived the Soviet surrender as a betrayal; to some extent, he regretted that the crisis had not culminated in a final sacrifice:

  [We have] the harrowing example of a people ready to sacrifice itself to nuclear arms, that its ashes might serve as a basis for new societies; and, when an agreement is reached without even consulting it, and the atomic missiles are withdrawn, it does not breathe a sigh of relief, it does not give thanks for the respite. It enters the fray to make heard its own, unique voice; its own, unique fighting stance; and beyond that, its determination to struggle, even alone, against all dangers, and even the atomic threat of Yankee imperialism.98

  Che was present at all the discussions with Anastas Mikoyan except one. Most of his initial comments were devoted to emphasizing the pernicious effects on the Latin American revolution of the Soviet cave-in.
And also to cracking macabre jokes, that nonetheless contributed to making everybody relax, up to a point. On one occasion, the Soviet interpreter Tikhmenev had Castro insultingly comparing Mikoyan with U Thant; Mikoyan blew up, first, mistakenly, with Fidel, then with his translator, upon realizing that the offense was attributable to Tikhmenev, not to Castro. Che suggested a brief break, unholstered his Makharov automatic pistol, and placed it at Tikhmenev’s side. He then quietly suggested that the interpreter shoot himself, since after Mikoyan’s outburst there really was no future for him in the translation business.99

  The final exchange between Che, Mikoyan, and Alexeiev (made public in 1995 by U.S. and Russian researchers) is of exceptional interest. It reveals Guevara’s frame of mind, and the chasm already separating him from the Soviet leadership. As a conclusion to Che’s golden years in Cuba, and a preamble to the decisions and disillusions ahead, it is worth quoting in its entirety:

  GUEVARA: I would like to tell you, Comrade Mikoyan, that, sincerely speaking, as a consequence of the most recent events an extremely complicated situation has been created in Latin America. Many communists who represent other Latin American parties, and also revolutionary divisions like the Front for People’s Action in Chile, are wavering. They are dismayed … by the actions of the Soviet Union. A number of divisions have surfaced. New groups are springing up, factions are springing up. The thing is, we are deeply convinced of the possibility of seizing power in a number of Latin American countries, and practice shows that it is possible not only to seize it, but also to hold power in a range of countries, taking into account practical experience. Unfortunately, many Latin American groups believe that in the political acts of the Soviet Union during the recent events there are contained two serious errors. First, the exchange [the proposal to swap Soviet missiles in Cuba for U.S. missiles in Turkey—ed.] and second, the open concession. It seems to me that this bears objective witness to the fact that we can now expect the decline of the revolutionary movement in Latin America, which in the recent period has been greatly strengthened. I have expressed my personal opinions, but I have spoken entirely sincerely.