Companero

by Jorge G. Castaneda

  Che formulated a series of precise but Utopian proposals, calling for solidarity among Socialist countries to finance development in the Third World and openly denouncing the behavior of the Socialist bloc. He then returned to the matter of relations with the capitalist countries, warning against the fallacies of joint ventures or competition among neighboring underdeveloped countries. He concluded with an eloquent and passionate appeal to delegates to “institutionalize our relations,” to create some sort of unity among Third World and Socialist countries. And he also touched upon his main concern of the moment: the supply of arms to liberation movements. Again, he castigated the Socialist countries—even while acknowledging that their support for Cuba had been exemplary:

  If it is absurd to believe that a company director in a Socialist country at war is not going to have his doubts about sending the tanks he produces to a front where there is no guarantee of payment, it is equally absurd to examine the payment possibilities of a people fighting for its liberation. … Arms should not be merchandise in our world; they must be delivered at no cost, and in whatever quantities are needed and possible, to those peoples that require them to fire against the common enemy. That is the spirit in which the USSR and the People’s Revolution in China have given us their military support. … But we are not the only ones.35

  As Ahmed Ben Bella recalls, Che knew exactly what he was doing.*10 He was aware of the shock he would cause, and the problems he would spark for Fidel Castro and the Cuban Revolution. The implications and repercussions of his speech were evident. The Soviets already mistrusted him, due to his real and imagined ties with China, his trips to Beijing and Africa, and his persistent opposition to their recommendations concerning the Cuban economy. Che also knew of the links between Cuba and the Soviet Union, and how they had grown tighter since the beginning of his world travels in early November. He realized that his criticism of the USSR would be badly received in Havana, opening a serious rift between himself and Fidel Castro. Time would tell just how serious it would be.

  As in Mexico in 1956 and New York in 1964, Che’s outburst revealed powerful unconscious urges. Provocation was his preferred form of expression during moments of great tension; his solution was always to seek the most exacerbated and gratuitous extremes. This is perhaps the only way to understand the speech he made in Algiers: icily provocative, it was born in that small space between anguish and reason.

  Che was forced to spend two cold and dark days in Shannon, Ireland, in mid-March on his way back to Cuba; the stopover due to mechanical difficulties allowed him to reflect upon his future. Rafael del Pino piloted the Cubana de Aviatión Britannia sent to bring him home. Che rarely flew alone, yet this time no one accompanied him. Osmany Cienfuegos was on the same flight, but traveling separately; he had come from a preparatory meeting for another conference of Communist parties in Moscow. Che finally sought out Del Pino to talk, answering his query about Africa with, “Africa is really fucked; the people there are so difficult, so different.” He explained that people in Africa had no sense of nationality; each tribe had its own chief, territory, and nation even though they all lived within a single country. Guevara concluded, “It’s very difficult, but there is some possibility that they will adopt the revolution, because the Cubans are good at that. …”*11

  His ruminations in Ireland and in flight rested on more upbeat prospects for the Revolution that he and Castro had wrought. The situation in Cuba had improved. Even the U.S. State Department detected encouraging signs in the sugar harvest and the country’s economic performance.36 The circumstances that had prevented him from leaving for Argentina the year before were hence no longer valid. Similarly, though he had lost many ideological and policy battles, at least he was satisfied that his opponents had not won either. Carlos Rafael Rodríguez had just been removed as director of the INRA, and its new head (under Fidel Castro himself) was a young Fidelista, Raúl Curbelo, without any links to the old Communist guard.

  Che could now depart, if he so wished; and he nurtured powerful political and personal reasons for doing so. Distinctly marginalized from economic policy-making, he no longer even attended negotiations with the Soviets. All of his theses had been defeated. In March a rumor circulated that, due to Foreign Minister Raúl Roa’s illness, Guevara would be chosen to replace him.†3 The scuttlebutt seems implausible: after Che’s denunciation of the USSR in Algeria, he could hardly be expected to function as chief diplomat to a Socialist-bloc country. The more likely explanation was that transmitted to the Italian Communist Party by Saverio Tutino, the Havana correspondent for L’Unitá. Aside from being the shrewdest foreign journalist on the island, Tutino had unsurpassed contacts among the Cuban nomenklatura— including Manuel Piñeiro, the intelligence chief—and had the political and intellectual capacity to understand the vicissitudes of the Cuban situation. His interpretation was cited in a long cable from the British Embassy to London: Castro had decided to remove Che from all economic duties—as had indeed already occurred in fact, what with Guevara’s travels and the prior transfer of Che’s closest aides. But, out of friendship, respect, and necessity, Fidel had offered Che a high political position in recognition of his rank and trustworthiness. According to Tutino, Che had agreed to resign from the Ministry of Industries, but rejected any other post because, though his ideas had been defeated, he still believed in them. It would have been wrong, dishonest, and futile “to work for something in which he did not believe.”37

  In addition, Che seems to have resigned himself momentarily to the fact that, given the annihilation of the guerrillas in Argentina and the precariousness of movements in Colombia, Venezuela, and Guatemala, there was scant hope that revolution could succeed in Latin America without triggering an immediate U.S. intervention. A British report based on previous analyses by the United States noted that in Algiers, “even the indomitable Che Guevara seemed pessimistic about the possibility of more Cubas emerging in Latin America.” The United States, he said, “would intervene to prevent it.”*12 In contrast, there were many reasons for reckoning that Moscow’s vehement opposition to any further Cuban ventures in Latin America would not apply in Africa. After all, the Soviets themselves shipped arms to the Congo rebels, if only not to lose face vis-à-vis China. And U.S. involvement in the Congo and neighboring countries, though not insignificant, could not be compared to its interest in the Americas. If there was nothing useful left for Che to do in Cuba, and his prospects in Latin America seemed just as bleak, then the logical next step was Africa. His mind was made up. The only thing lacking was to discuss things with Fidel, obtain his support, and get to work.

  But even a full-fledged revolutionary does not live off politics alone. Two other factors impelled him to escape. The first, already mentioned, was his ruined marriage; his home life was a shambles. As he admitted to Nasser, “I have already broken two marriages.”38 Once again, he had been absent when Aleida gave birth—this time to his son Ernesto, on February 24, 1965. Che was consumed anew by his fever for movement, and the troubled, precarious state of his affective relations, far from tying him down, was pushing him further and further away. Another loss, no matter how unexpected, was confirmed in Paris at the end of January: his Cordoba friend Gustavo Roca, who defended the survivors of Jorge Masetti’s guerrilla campaign in the Argentine courts, recounted the sordid details of the debacle in Salta. The news must have affected Guevara deeply, with both pain and a predictable sense of guilt. It was no longer possible for him to keep sending others into combat while remaining safely on the sidelines.

  Finally, there was Che’s relationship with Fidel Castro. He had sworn that there would be neither marriage nor divorce, but this balance became increasingly precarious the longer he stayed in Cuba. Guevara could not countenance the changes Castro was effecting, or promoting, on the island. Nor could he break with him, or wish to. He never imagined himself playing the role of a Trotsky, or even an anti-Trotsky, as a marginalized leader who nonetheless defends himself while he stil
l possesses the means to do so. As he waited in Ireland for his plane to be reoutfitted, he wondered how to resolve these many dilemmas. There was not much time left.

  Guevara landed in Havana on March 15, three months after his departure; Fidel, Raúl, President Dorticós, and Aleida were at the airport to greet him. But something was wrong: instead of holding a press conference or delivering a televised report on the results of his trip, Che disappeared for several days. He spent forty hours talking with Fidel, Raúl, and several others. There is no eyewitness account, thus far, of that stormy exchange: neither Fidel nor Raúl has spoken of the meeting, even to their closest friends. And if Che kept notes, his widow has not made them public. However, two indirect witnesses have provided their version of events. It is thus possible to surmise the content of the meeting, particularly since we know, as mentioned earlier, that when Che landed in Havana his decision had already basically been made. His conversation with Fidel might have been a catalyst, a trigger, but it was not the cause of Che’s departure from Cuba. Less than a month later, as the United States Congress approved the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution formally inaugurating large-scale U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War, Che would leave the island.

  Che’s aide Benigno has provided the following reconstruction of a heated dispute between Raúl and Che, and Fidel’s refusal to take sides. It is a highly plausible account, due to the quality of the source,*13 to the fact that it corresponds with what is known of Fidel’s position vis-à-vis Guevara, and to its similarity with a discussion between Carlos Franqui and Raúl Castro the year before, when the latter accused Che of being pro-Chinese.*14 Because the report is unpublished it is worth reproducing verbatim, as narrated by Benigno, without any stylistic changes or deletions (aside from idiomatic repetitions):

  Che was accused of being a Trotskyist and pro-Chinese. When he came back from Algeria, I know there was a strong discussion between him and Fidel, which upset him very much: he even left for Tope de Collantes for about a week, with very serious asthma attacks. I know this from Comrade Argudín, one of his personal bodyguards. Argudín was working as his bodyguard. He told me about it because we were comrades in Che’s escort and I was away. He told me: “Shit, I’m worried.” “What’s going on?” “I overheard a very big argument between el Fifo and Che.” So I asked him, “What about?” He said: “They were discussing Chinese policy and discussing another Soviet leader”—for he was semi-literate. So I mentioned the names of several Soviet leaders. He said, “No, it was one that’s already dead. The one they call Trotsky, and they said to Che that he was a Trotskyist. Raúl said that. Raúl was the one who said he was a Trotskyist, that his ideas made it clear that he was a Trotskyist.” Argudín told me that Che got up very violent, as if he were about to jump on Raúl, and said to Raúl: “You’re an idiot, you’re an idiot.” He said he repeated the word idiot three times; then he looked over at Fidel, says Argudín, and Fidel did not respond. … When Che saw that attitude, he left very upset, he slammed the door and left. And then, a few days later, he decided suddenly to leave for the Congo. He went to Tope de Collantes for a week, to a sanatorium in the center of the country. He had several terrible asthma attacks, apparently because he was so upset. I remember it perfectly, just as I am telling it to you word for word. Argudín and I had things worked out this way; if we were present at some big meeting I would tell Argudín what had happened. When he was on duty he told me. … So he told me about a week later, two days before I took the boat to Dar-es-Salaam.†4

  Carlos Franqui has furnished his own description of the dispute and its causes. His source is Celia Sánchez, Fidel Castro’s assistant, companion, and confidante, who died in 1980:

  What is certain is that Guevara was received at the airport when he returned by Fidel Castro, Raúl, and President Dorticós, energetically reprimanded, accused of indiscipline and irresponsibility, of compromising Cuba’s relations with the USSR; Fidel was furious over his irresponsibility in Algiers, as he said to many, including myself. Guevara acknowledged that what they said was true, that he had no right to say that on behalf of Cuba, that he accepted his responsibility, but that that was his way of thinking and he could not change it. That they should not expect a public self-criticism, or any private apology to the Soviets, and with his Argentine humor he said that the best would be for him to punish himself, that he would go and cut sugarcane.39

  Raúl Castro had just returned from Moscow. On the very day of Che’s anti-Soviet diatribe in Algiers, Fidel’s younger brother had met with the new leadership in Moscow, along with Osmany Cienfuegos. The two were attending a preparatory meeting for the international (minus China) Conference of Communist Parties, scheduled for the following month of March. Raúl evidently received acerbic complaints about Che’s performance from the Soviet leaders, not only about his economic positions in Cuba and insolence in Algeria, but for his repeated marks of sympathy toward China. So it turned out that Raúl Castro, who had always favored Cuba’s ties to the Socialist bloc, who had obtained arms and then missiles to defend the island, had supported greater alignment with the USSR and opposed China, was the man to whom the Soviets presented their long list of grievances against Guevara. Shortly after the argument, on March 18, Raúl traveled to Poland, Hungary, Bulgaria, and again, on two occasions, to Moscow, to placate the Soviet leadership and participate in the conference.*15 Both Raúl, in principle, and Fidel, pragmatically, understood that Cuba would have to take sides in the Sino-Soviet conflict. On top of that, all the personal resentments between Raúl and Che had reached a head: Che had lost his battle and nobody, not even Fidel Castro, could save him.

  It was almost certainly at that time that a unit of about a hundred men, commanded by Che, was formed to train and support the Congo freedom fighters and, if necessary, to fight at their side—though never in their stead. Perhaps some of the combatants were selected before the hasty decision to send them was actually made; others, like the subordinates of Rafael del Pino in the air force, were called up a few days before Che’s return to Cuba. Del Pino was instructed to pick out the “blackest” troops from the Holguin base, especially those with anti-aircraft combat experience, since a large number of anti-Castro Cuban pilots were already in action against the Congo rebels. Del Pino selected fifteen pilots, including Lieutenant Barcelay, who, under the name of Chango or Lawton, would save Che’s life eight months later on the banks of Lake Tanganyika.

  There were many considerations involved in Cuba’s resolution to dispatch an expeditionary force into the heart of Africa. If there was any doubt in Che’s mind, it was dispelled by Fidel’s attitude. Not because they had fallen out, or because Castro had reprimanded him for his anti-Soviet outburst in Algiers, his pro-Chinese position, or his three-month leave from government duty, but because of Fidel’s conscious noninvolvement in the successive watersheds of the revolution involving Che. The fact that Castro had not sided with him, and had allowed Raúl’s accusations to stand, left Guevara with little choice. It was time to leave. Fortunately, the path was now open: there was a struggle in which he could participate in a dignified and effective way. There was even a chance that the Soviets and their friends would increase their support for the revolution in Latin America if the African expedition succeeded.40 Besides, Cuban penetration on the continent was not limited to Che’s presence in Congo-Leopoldville; a few months later, another Cuban contingent was sent to Congo-Brazzaville. By mid-1966, over six hundred Cuban officers and troops were operating in Africa. In the summer of that year, a group of them stationed in Brazzaville saved President Alphonse Massemba-Debat from a coup d’état.

  Furthermore, the Congo rebel groups, though not ideal, had the great merit of existing. They embodied the first postcolonial struggle in independent Africa, and thirsted for assistance from Cuba. Che’s initial contact with them had not been in vain. Their cause was a good, if temporary, substitute for what he had really sought since 1963: a return to his native Argentina, regardless of the local conditions. Accordin
g to Emilio Aragonés—who would soon join Che in the Congo—two obsessions clashed. Che wished to return to his country of origin, and Fidel Castro wanted to save him from death at the hands of the Argentine army.

  I knew that his dream was to go to Argentina: that was his ultimate goal. I believe Fidel encouraged or facilitated Che’s trip to Africa in order to save him from a trip to Argentina. Fidel knew that the Argentine army was not the same as Tshombe’s soldiers. Fidel found the solution in an expedition to Africa, where there was less danger from a Yankee intervention. I think Fidel sold him on Africa, I think Che came back enamored of Africa because he spoke with all the African leaders and came out of there very enthusiastic. It seems to me that Fidel wound him up because there was less risk, rather than sending him off to Argentina he delayed him in Africa, where things would be different because there would not be such a brutal reaction, nor could there be in any other country, nobody would pay much attention to something happening in the jungle. This is a subjective view, I have not discussed the matter with Fidel. What Fidel wanted was to gain time. Fidel could not go against the deal they had made in Mexico, but he was trying to make sure by any means that Che would not be killed.*16

  The pact in Mexico referred to by Aragonés allowed for a separation, but certainly did not cause it. Fidel Castro has recalled several times how, when Che joined the Granma expedition, they agreed that the Argentine would be able to follow his path regardless of any consideration of state or political obligation. Thanks to this pact, Che could leave without remorse; though in fact over the next year and a half, he would anguish repeatedly over quitting the government on an island with such severe shortages in qualified, devoted cadres. If anything made Che think twice about leaving, it was the prospect of jumping ship with a masterful captain but few and mediocre lieutenants. The friends’ discussion during March concluded with these words—Che’s bitter and categorical, Fidel’s reluctantly resigned: