Companero

by Jorge G. Castaneda

  *14 Carlos Franqui, Retrato de Familia con Fidel (Barcelona: Seix Barral, 1981), pp. 464–470, especially p. 466. In an interview, Franqui provided the author with a more detailed and relevant version of the same dialogue between Raúl, Che, and Franqui, at the Palace of the Revolution, on January 1, 1964: “Then suddenly Raúl exclaims, ‘You and Che are pro-Chinese’; when I heard that I was stunned in relation to Che; Raúl got that from a French magazine Révolution, edited by the lawyer Vergés, who without Che’s permission published an article of Che’s and a picture of my exhibition. Of course Raúl knew Che was sympathetic to the Chinese.” Carlos Franqui, interview with the author, San Juan, P.R., August 20, 1996.

  †4Benigno interview. A false document, known as the R-Havana Report, attributed to East German intelligence, mentions a serious psychosomatic ailment afflicting Che in those days. It never happened, but the asthmatid attacks mentioned by Benigno could explain the rumor, and his days of rest or seclusion at Tope de Collantes could have been confused with a prolonged hospitalization. See Frederic Hetman, Yo tengo siete vidas (Salamanca: Loguez Ediciones, 1977), p. 128.

  *15 According to the CIA, Moscow pressured Fidel Castro to send his brother to the Parties’ Conference; the Cuban leader agreed. Central Intelligence Agency, Directorate of Intelligence, Castro and Communism: The Cuban Revolution in Perspective, Intelligence Memorandum, May 9, 1966 (Secret), p. 18, NSF, Country File, Cuba, Bowdler File, vol. 2, box 19, no. 71 report, LBJ Library.

  *16 Aragonés, interview January 23, 1996. During the course of three interviews and almost ten hours of recorded conversation, Aragonés repeated this interpretation, almost obsessively, several times.

  †5Saverio Tutino, the previously cited well-informed Italian journalist, does not discard the possibility that for a week or two Che may have actually marched off to the cane fields, imposing a sort of self-punishment on himself for having violated instructions in Algeria by speaking on his own behalf. Still, he had no regrets. Carlos Franqui concurs with this hypothesis: “I think it’s true, knowing him.” Carlos Franqui, interview.

  *17 This is the opinion of a strange figure, a former intelligence agent of the Francoist dictatorship in Spain, who has blended utter fantasy in his memoirs with kernels of fact and insight. See Luis M. González-Mata, Las muertes del Che Guevara (Barcelona: Argos Vergara, 1980), p. 19.

  *18 Che’s disappearance also evoked doubts and criticism among some of Cuba’s supporters abroad. The U.S. left-wing publication Monthly Review, edited by Paul Sweezy and Leo Huberman, asked: “Is Fidel Castro aware of what is really at stake in the Guevara case? Does he realize that every day he delays in clearing up the mystery, he contributes to the anguish and doubts of honest revolutionaries, and to the joy of his enemies?” Quoted in Léo Sauvage, Le Cas Guevara (Paris: Editions La Table Ronde, 1971), p. 49.

  *19 In his memoirs, Mike Hoare recalls how his men discovered the passport and diary of a fallen Cuban soldier; the passport described the itinerary to Africa and the diary, among other things, lamented how “The Congolese were too lazy even to carry a 76 mm howitzer and its shells.” See Richard Gott, “The Year Che Went Missing,” The Guardian Weekend (London), November 30, 1996, p. 30.

  †6The U.S. Embassy did not disclose the presence of Cuban corpses until July 6; only on September 21 did it confirm that there were 160 Cubans operating in the Congo. The U.S. estimate was off by about forty. See Godley/AmEmbassy/Leopoldville to SecState, September 21, 1965 (Secret), NSF, Country File, Congo, vol. 11, no. 7 cable, p. 49, LBJ Library.

  *20 “When I learned who was coming, I was afraid they would arrive with a message urging me to return to Cuba.” Guevara, “Pasajes … (el Congo),” pp. 66–67.

  *21 Major Bem Hardenne, “Les Opérations Anti-Guerillas dans l’Est du Congo en 1965–1966,” February 1969, mimeograph, pp. 19–20. The CIA and State Department also saw the significance of the Cuban presence: “Although reported number of Cubans et al probably exaggerated, it not surprising their presence disturbs OPS/SUD. Even small number these ‘advisers’ in combat leadership role and actively participating in fighting can provide rebel units the backbone necessary to take on not only ANC but also be sharp thorn in ODO side. It confirmed that Cubans took active part in at least one engagement.” God-ley/AmEmbassy/Leopoldville to SecState September 21, 1965 (Secret), NSF, Country File, Congo, vol. XI, no. 7 cable, LBJ Library.

  *22 The lack of U.S. concern or emphasis on the Cuban presence lends credence to this idea: a CIA report dated August 26, 1965, summarized the situation in the Congo as follows: “However, several thousand rebels do hold a considerable redoubt in the Fizi area on the northwestern shore of Lake Tanganyika. The insurgents there are well armed, probably accompanied by at least a few Cuban and Chinese advisors, and seem better trained and more resolute than were their counterparts in the northeast.” Central Intelligence Agency, Intelligence Memorandum, Situation in the Congo, August 26, 1965 (Secret), NSF, Country File, Congo, vol. 11, no. 106 memo, LBJ Library.

  *23 Emilio Aragonés, interview with the author, August 24, 1995. Aragonés still wonders how Che could have been so deluded: “I don’t know if he really believed it, or if he said so in part because he didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want it to fall apart, I don’t know. But a man as intelligent as he can hardly have believed it would work.”

  *24 “At a given moment it became inevitable that we publish the letter, as all that campaign without any answer or explanation to world opinion was doing a great deal of damage, and there was no other alternative than to publish the letter.” Fidel Castro, quoted in Gianni Miná, Un encuentro con Fidel, Office of Publications of the State Council, Havana, 1988, p. 327.

  *25 Several authors suspect that the CIA and Lawrence Devlin were involved in the ouster of Kasavubu on November 25, though not necessarily in that of Tshombe. Some believe, however, that the two events were part of a single operation. See, for example, Ellen Ray, William Schapp, Karl Van Meter, and Louis Wolf, eds., Dirty Work: The CIA in Africa, vol. 2 (Syracuse: Lyle Stuart, 1979), p. 191. The tight relationship between Devlin and Mobutu is corroborated by the following incontrovertible comment by U.S. Ambassador Godley: “Devlin is closer to Mobutu than any non-Congolese I know.” AmEmbassy Leopoldville to SecState, November 25, 1965 (Secret), National Security File, Country File, Congo, vol. 12, cable no. 47, LBJ Library.

  *26 This remarkable exchange was related to the author by Benigno (interview cited) and corroborated separately by Aragonés and Fernández Mell (interviews cited). The fact that there are three sources justifies this verbatim account, with the license authorized by the passage of many years and traditional Cuban hyperbole.

  †7Benigno, interview. “I was very surprised by a place we passed at dawn. I thought it was impossible for us to get by without being seen, because we passed between two sloops, we had to turn off the motors and all of us dove into the water, those who knew how to swim dove in and pushed the raft to pass between the two sloops that were there. I at least expected them to start shooting at us any second. It was humanly impossible for them not to see us.”

  Chapter 10

  Betrayed by Whom

  in Bolivia?

  Life had stopped smiling on Che Guevara, but his prodigious willpower and luck held out long enough for one last adventure. The man who emerged from defeat and despair in the Congo still possessed inner strength and convictions, though he was not unscathed. Having lost more than forty pounds, he now weighed less than one hundred and ten; his asthma and dysentery had taken an enormous toll.*1 Even worse, the discouragement and gloom caused by failure had rapidly turned into depression. Being cooped up for several weeks in a tiny bedroom and office set up for him on the first floor of the Cuban Embassy in Dar-es-Salaam did not help. He began to recover from his various illnesses and dejection only as plans for the future gradually took shape. His secretary during those months in Tanzania recalled: “I don’t think he left in a spirit of defeat, but rather with a critical attitude toward
the organization’s political leadership, with a spirit of love and compassion toward the Congolese brigades.”1

  During the time he spent with Pablo Ribalta, the Cuban ambassador to Tanzania and his old comrade in arms, in the Tanzanian capital, Che made two crucial decisions: he would not return to Cuba, and his next destination was Buenos Aires. As Benigno recalls, “He did not want to go back to Cuba in the least.”2 The reason was understandable: Fidel Castro’s public reading of his farewell letter rendered it impossible. Che would not have violated his pledge for anything, even if it had been possible for him to return to the island in secret. Having renounced all he had in Cuba, he could not go back vanquished and humiliated. The course taken by the Cuban economy was foreign to him; his supporters had been left out of the new Communist Party’s Central Committee; and his international strategy had foundered in the harsh realities of Africa. He had nowhere to go. So he decided to seek out his original starting point—not as a prodigal son rejoining family and country, but to make the revolution where he had always hoped: in Argentina.

  Angel Braguer, “Lino,” who dealt with Bolivian affairs for Cuban intelligence, had no doubts. After his recovery in Dar-es-Salaam, Che’s sole desire was to head for Buenos Aires, with or without preparation, resources, or company:

  He planned it in a very heroic way, practically without any conditions. It was very similar to staying on the shores of Lake Tanganyika, almost without support. It was like staying to fight on the banks of the river, on open ground, against superior forces about to win.*2

  Che’s final months in Africa were largely devoted to an ongoing dispute with Havana. Guevara wanted to leave immediately; Castro resorted to a series of stratagems and pretexts to keep him from going and being killed by the Argentine gendarmerie, which Emilio Aragonés so justifiably feared. One of the first weapons Castro used was Aleida, Che’s wife; another was Ramiro Valdés, Che’s closest friend in Cuba and his children’s guardian in the event of his death. Ribalta later recalled Aleida’s trip to Tanzania: “His wife arrived in Dar-es-Salaam. They were staying at the Embassy. Che was very friendly, very happy, they talked about the children, they hugged. … She stayed until later.”3 As a source in the Cuban security machinery retold it,

  There was an ongoing struggle with Fidel to keep [Che] from going to Argentina and [make him] come back to Cuba. Fidel sent Aleida and others to see him. Che wanted to leave directly for Buenos Aires. Fidel invented Bolivia for him, using all the resources [there], to convince him to return to Cuba and not go to Argentina.4

  Che was drawn by degrees to the idea of Bolivia, or in any case to a stopover there before going to Argentina—but not Cuba. In the southern fall, he dispatched José María Martínez Tamayo (“Papi”) to Bolivia to prepare his trip to Argentina; he also instructed Pombo and Tuma to travel to Bolivia to recover some old suitcases filled with dollars, left over from previous adventures, and to wait for him on the Argentine border. However, the two aides stopped in Cuba, where the authorities convinced them to change their plans—at least until July, when they finally landed at La Paz.5

  While waiting, Che spent his free time writing—his favorite activity, apart from combat and literature. Working from notes taken in the Congo, he began drafting the manuscript repeatedly quoted in the previous chapter—“Pasajes de la guerra revolucionaria (el Congo).” Colman Ferrer, a young secretary at the Cuban Embassy in Dar-es-Salaam, served as his assistant. Che dictated his text, Ferrer transcribed it, then Guevara revised and corrected the final manuscript. In the words of Ferrer, Che basically spent the days “marking time, preparing the conditions for a change of scenery.” As Oscar Fernández Mell recalls it,

  One of Che’s great virtues was the way he enjoyed reading, though he also had more exacting tastes and ways of spending his time. He could read for hours; he had a good time even when he was alone.6

  He was extremely meticulous in his work. In Ferrer’s words, “he was careful in the things he was going to write, avoiding any mistakes. He took great care, he analyzed and reread the transcription repeatedly.”7 The book left little time for other activities: “He wrote day and night. His only distraction was an occasional game of chess with me. One day when I was about to checkmate him? he looked at me as if he had not realized what was happening; it was obvious that he wasn’t really in the game.”8

  Finally, at the end of February or beginning of March 1966, Che agreed to leave for Prague and plan the next phase of his life, desisting from flying to Argentina.*3 The person assigned to accompany him to the Czech capital was Ulises Estrada, Piñeiro’s officer for African affairs.†1 Che would spend more than four months there, recovering from illness and depression—Castro sent his own physicians to treat him—and preparing the new expedition. The Cuban official from Piñeiro’s team who received him, Jose Luis Ojaldo, initially found him an apartment in the city, then moved the group to a house approximately twenty kilometers away in the direction of Lidice. Estrada stayed about a month with Che before being replaced by Juan Carretero, later known as “Ariel,” the bearer of coded messages between Bolivia and Havana, and Alfredo Fernández Montes de Oca, alias “Pacho” or “Pachungo,” with whom Guevara would travel to Bolivia in November.

  Estrada recalls his weeks in Czechoslovakia in varying shades of gloom: the Central European winter, Che’s somber mood, their uncertainty about the future. It was not by any means a happy or hopeful time:

  I stayed with him until he decided to return to Cuba. We were living in a worker’s apartment, where Che could supposedly have some peace and quiet. We lived a bit on tenterhooks. We hardly went out, and when we did, with comrade José Luis, we went to the outskirts of Prague, to restaurants outside the city, in the countryside. I attracted a lot of attention, the waitresses wanted to touch my hair, and [Che] said to me, “Look, I hope I won’t be found out because of you, you attract a lot of attention. Everywhere we go people look at you. You have the privilege of being black; in other parts you are discriminated against but here they admire you, so I’m going to ask Fidel to send me someone else.*4

  These were perhaps the worst months of Che’s life: dark and solitary, permeated with uncertainty. According to an uncorroborated but plausible report, Che spent weeks recovering from intoxication induced by a Sovietmade medication for asthma whose expiration date had passed. Beset by illness, he was also subject to pressures from all sides. Life had deprived him of those certainties that had allowed him until then to resist contradiction and determine his own fate. The months dragged by, punctuated only by efforts to keep his presence secret and to organize from afar his next attempt at revolution. The Czechs were never informed that Guevara was in their country—or at least, this is his companions’ opinion to this day. Che’s obsession with secrecy made his movements hard to detect, but it seems doubtful, given the precedents, that Castro would have kept his famous friend’s whereabouts from Moscow. Moreover, the maneuvers must have awakened some suspicion. Why were there suddenly so many Cuban conspirators in the heart of Central Europe?

  Castro was willing to try anything to induce Guevara to postpone his return to Buenos Aires, or at least to prepare for it appropriately.*5 Aleida joined in the chorus, visiting Che again in Prague, as did Ramiro Valdés, whom Benigno met in Moscow between flights; he believes it was Ramiro who finally convinced Che to return to Cuba.9 Another visitor to Prague was Tamara Bunke, Tania, the Argentine-German translator turned Cuban intelligence agent, according to Ulises Estrada,†2 who was her lover for over a year.‡1 After the Cubans lost touch with Tania in La Paz, she was indirectly summoned to Prague to evaluate her work and prospects in Bolivia:

  … Tania was left without communications for a year in La Paz. Finally contact was made with her first in Mexico and then Czechoslovakia. Her codes were changed when she was in Czechoslovakia. She went to Czechoslovakia where she was retrained and taught the codes, the radio schedule, and other operative things. It all took place in Prague.10

  According to Ulise
s Estrada, the Cubans found a farm outside Prague where they could hold their meetings with Tamara Bunke; this is where Che “spent time with Tania.”**1 Gossip about a romance between her and Che became even more insistent, though it did not begin in Prague. Indeed, the scuttlebutt had been circulating for years, due to the pair’s many joint activities in Havana. Some sources in the Cuban intelligence services even speculated that Guevara’s real reason for dismissing Estrada was to have Tania to himself in Prague. This is not impossible. Nor should one neglect the rumor that Che and his wife had a serious dispute during one of her visits, precisely about Tania. Be that as it may, these missions, maneuvers, and promises gradually shaped the expedition to Bolivia. Everybody involved—Aleida, Castro, Ramiro Valdés, Manuel Piñeiro, Che’s closest subordinates, and Tania—offered an alternative.

  It was no easy feat. In order to prevent Che from risking his life in Argentina, there had to be an alternative course that was both feasible and close or adjacent to his native land. The first choice was Venezuela. Carlos Franqui claims that Fidel Castro used his good offices with the Venezuelan guerrillas to try to persuade them to receive Guevara; they refused.11 This is confirmed by Teodoro Petkoff, a Venezuelan guerrilla leader who was in jail at the time and is now a minister of state.12 Germán Lairet, a former representative of the Fuerzas Armadas de Liberatión Nacional in Havana, notes that a precedent existed: the Cubans had been trying to integrate Che into the Venezuelan guerrilla movement since 1964.*6 But the movement was faltering: internal divisions, a government counteroffensive, and the international context made it a dangerous option for Che. Furthermore, the Venezuelans themselves opposed his involvement because, according to Petkoff, it would have confirmed accusations that the guerrillas constituted a foreign presence there. In early 1967, with Che in Bolivia and the Venezuelan guerrilla campaign breathing its last, Fidel Castro launched a fierce attack on its leaders, accusing them of having betrayed the struggle. So Venezuela was not an option.