by Aleida March
As the US government stepped up its support for the counterrevolutionary groups inside Cuba, we called on members of the FMC to join the National Revolutionary Militia. Women showed themselves ready to defend the country and everything we had gained with the revolution. I had to juggle housework, work and four children, who had been born almost within a year of each other. Without day care, care in primary schools and the scholarships and other important educational programs initiated by the revolutionary government, women like me would never have been able to do what we wanted to do.
The results of the FMC’s work were clearly evident. The monthly membership fee helped establish regular and direct contact with every member at a grass roots level. In this way, we formed a movement of cadres on a national level; I was a professional cadre, although I was never paid for my work. The first congress of the FMC was held in 1962, where I was elected general secretary and Vilma Espín was elected president. I was able to fulfill my role as FMC general secretary without neglecting my other work as Che’s personal secretary; I could always count on Vilma’s support and her advice about how to carry out tasks more efficiently and with greater unity. She was particularly helpful to me during difficult times, such as during the internal party fight against sectarianism that was particularly sharp in my province.
Che had a boundless faith in Fidel and was one of his closest collaborators. He was profoundly affected by the way the Cuban people, not caring that he was Argentine, had adopted him as one of their own. This reinforced the Latin Americanism he had embraced as a young medical student on his first travels around the continent.
In Mexico, before arriving in Cuba with the guerrilla expedition, Che had written a poem called “Song for Fidel,” in which he already identified himself as a Cuban.
It begins,
Onward,
burning prophet of the dawn,
down hidden and untouched paths,
to liberate the green caimán1 you love so well.
The last verse begins:
And if our path is blocked by iron,
we ask only a rosary of Cuban tears...
Even when he was most infuriated by something in Cuba, he would always refer to “we Cubans,” never feeling that he didn’t belong, even though he hadn’t been born in our country.
The Ministry of Industry was formed on February 23, 1961, and Che was appointed minister. Much has been written about Che’s work in this role—both favorable and critical. I don’t doubt that he made mistakes and that there were problems others would have experienced. But he did his best in applying all his skill to this role with a passion and commitment to something he saw as essential for the development and advancement of the revolution.
The Ministry of Industry was structured in such a way as to leave no room for schemas or rigidity but to be able to respond to the greatest challenge of the revolution—industrialization. It represented a stage beyond the first experimental phase in the Sierra Maestra, where Che organized small factories to make simple products to meet the needs of the guerrillas’ camps. When Che first arrived at La Cabaña, he immediately organized small local workshops to satisfy the demands of the troops. All this was in accord with the objectives of the revolutionary program Fidel had outlined in 1953.
With this previous experience and a skilled team around him, Che proposed the reactivation of the industrial sector in our country. In particular, this meant ending the sugar monoculture as the way to break out of Cuba’s neocolonial status and underdevelopment. This was a gigantic challenge that only someone like Che could have undertaken, given his willingness to work, his sense of responsibility, his creative spirit, as well as his ability to study and reflect on what he was doing.
In creating the new ministry, there were hundreds of hours of discussions, and Che was always at the center of these debates. The work also involved establishing vice-ministries, directors and branches in the restructure of nationalized businesses and factories. Eventually an integrated system of organization, direction and planning in all industrial activity was created.
Many Latin American consultants assisted in this, a number of whom had already worked with Che on other projects. Some of them belonged to the Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean (CEPALC)2 and others were from the United Nations. Progressive intellectuals and economists from various socialist countries also participated.
In this way Cuba made initial steps toward industrialization. New branches of industry such as automation and electronics were established, as well as research centers. Che’s passion and signature were evident in all these achievements that represented, as he put it, “the purest of our hopes.” In this, he was contributing in a practical way to what he referred to as “the new man.”
Meanwhile, Che also played a role in the foreign policy of the revolutionary government, through which we became familiar with other countries’ efforts to create a socialist system. Specialists came from other socialist countries to assist in the creation of the Ministry of Industry, bringing the scientific and technical expertise Cuba badly needed. Being intimately involved in Che’s work as his secretary with this challenge, I saw how Che grew and learned from the process.
By 1961, the revolution was advancing and the decades of corruption and pillage were coming to an end, as the Cuban people began to shape their own future. Cuba’s enemies felt their most treasured possession slipping from their grasp, and the counterrevolutionary forces prepared to launch a full-scale assault.
Che was assigned as the chief military officer for the western region of the island. When the first attack occurred in April 1961, Che left immediately for Pinar del Río. The entire population was mobilized; I was part of the FMC’s effort.
When I learned Che had been injured, I wanted to go to Pinar del Río immediately to see him. He had asked that I not be told of what had happened, or at least not until the seriousness of his injury was established. But it was impossible to contain the news and, in fact, it was Fidel who told me—he was always understanding and a true friend. I took our daughter Aliucha (that’s what we called Aleidita) to Celia Sánchez’s house at her suggestion, because it was considered to be a safe place. Not knowing in what state I would find Che, I set out on a very anxious trip. There were tanks and mobilized combatants all along the highway, preparing for the invasion.
I arrived at dawn to find Che recovering from an operation. I approached him nervously, but I could see he was OK. When I remarked I was happy his injury wasn’t more serious and that the bullet had not damaged a vital organ, he responded in a joking tone, “Damn luck! Of all the bullets this one had to land on me!” Then he went on to explain what had happened. In a moment of carelessness he had dropped his gun without properly securing it. The bullet hit him in the cheek and exited from behind his ear; if it had been just a few millimeters off course the result would have been very different.
When the Bay of Pigs invasion began on April 17, 1961, Che was still recovering. But the next day, against my advice, he went to meet with Fidel very near where the counterrevolutionaries had landed. It was thought there might be further attacks at Bahía Honda and Cabañas, areas under Che’s command.
Che took me back to Havana at the same breakneck speed that I had traveled to see him. We picked up Aleidita from Celia’s house, and he dropped us back home. I assumed Che would not be able to fight due to his injury. But I was mistaken. After discussing tactics with Fidel, he returned to Pinar del Río. He was there when we learned of the crushing defeat of the enemy. The other attacks did not occur; this had merely been an enemy ploy.
Our daily life resumed and we were more optimistic than before. The gigantic effort of the nationwide literacy campaign continued, reaching the most remote and neglected parts of the island. The literacy campaign was seen as an essential step to making a qualitative leap forward, not only guaranteeing the unconditional support of the masses for the revolution but also fully integrating them into the process and raising the c
ultural level of the entire country. The workers of the ministry participated in the literacy campaign by teaching classes in poor neighborhoods around Havana.
I taught in the then infamous (and quite dangerous) neighborhood of Las Yaguas. The family I was assigned to teach had suffered many traumas. The mother was only 39 years old but looked as though she was 60. She had a number of children, all from different fathers; they were all illiterate. I was able to teach one of the daughters, who was 14 or 15 years old. I taught her the first few letters of the alphabet with great effort. She was a maid in two houses, where she was only paid two and half pesos per month. Another daughter lived next door; I was not able to teach her. She was married to an alcoholic, and it was virtually impossible for me to even get close to her, as he wouldn’t let me in the door. At the end of the campaign, through the FMC, I sought help for this family. We were able to convince the mother and one of the daughters to work. They went to Ciudad Libertad as part of the special scheme that offered scholarships to maids who had taken part in the literacy campaign so they could continue with their studies. They did learn to read and write, but we were not able to remove them entirely from their environment. That was a greater challenge.
Che backed me up in everything I did, both on a personal level and in family matters. My own family, too, needed help. We became guardians of my niece, Miriam, one of the daughters of my elder sister, who had died when I was a teenager. We contributed to her political and cultural development, and she became part of our family. When Miriam got married in 1965, the wedding was held in March, to fit in with Che’s schedule. He wanted to be there so they waited until he came back from his trip through Africa. He lent the newlyweds his car for their honeymoon.
If I wanted to spend time with Che and carry out my own responsibilities, sometimes I had to leave the care of my children to others and abandon my role as a mother. I was supported in this by my family and the compañeros who lived nearby. Within the ministry, Manresa, who had been the office manager, and I agreed on a division of labor; I took charge of the personal correspondence.
I accompanied Che on the monthly visits he made to the provinces to check on the advances in the industrial sectors of the country. He always wanted to get as close as possible to the workers, in order to get a real sense of their needs as well as being able to contribute to finding solutions to problems. I would use my skills as a secretary to take notes of discussions and share some of the workload. We would enjoy these times together, being able to share an intimacy that we could not have had under other circumstances. Eventually I was able to come to terms with my feelings of jealousy. I came to understand that Che took his work very seriously and did not allow minor distractions to get in the way.
Over time, these visits to the provinces became more frequent and stressful. He wanted to be constantly informed about what was happening and was always alert to complacent or bureaucratic attitudes to administration, which he saw as the greatest danger of other socialist systems. He often referred to the party, the administrative apparatus and the labor movement as the “Holy Trinity.” In his writings, he constantly warned of the serious problems created when the party, especially in the provinces, substituted itself for the administrative apparatus.
He visited important developments in other places such as the southern coast of Santiago de Cuba or El Caney de las Mercedes. If he thought there were problems, he would make a note and pass on the information to the relevant ministry.
He would contact the campesinos in those areas, listening to their problems. There were some interesting cases, like that of Argelio Rosabal, a Baptist from Sierra Maestra. He had approached Che and his group just after they disembarked from the Granma. Argelio later asked for some land on which to build a church, and this was granted at the beginning of 1959. Later on, someone tried to take this land away from him. Che took steps to have the land returned to Argelio. There was also Polo Torres, the “barefoot captain,” who had seen a lot of action in Che’s column. Whenever Che visited the area, he would seek him out to discuss what was happening locally.
Somehow we built our intimate space around Che’s enormous workload and the odd hours that he kept. He would get up at 9:00 or 10:00 in the morning, drink some bitter coffee and gulp down some milk pudding, one of his favorite foods. He would sit at the table in the kitchen while I finished preparing his breakfast. While I made his coffee, he would drink carbonated water from a green glass that he liked to use. He had a special coffee cup that I had given him. When he had to meet a visiting delegation arriving early at the airport or attend a meeting in the early hours of the morning, he would let me know that he would be staying at the ministry so that he could grab a couple of hours sleep; but that did not happen very often.
I usually left the house after 11:00 in the morning and would return at around 10:00 p.m. or even midnight, depending on the amount of work to be done. On a few occasions, we went to the cinema, the drive-in or the theatre. There was a little room at the Cuban Institute of Art and Cinematography (ICAIC) where we could watch movies. The director, Alfredo Guevara, was a highly cultured man and a close friend.
From the first, Che took part in the receptions at the various embassies as part of his role in foreign relations. Depending on my pregnancies, I would usually attend with him. He would call me from the office so that I could get ready, and we would meet at home or at the ministry, depending on how much time we had. There is one amusing story about my attendance at these receptions. Accidentally, on a crossed line, Che heard a comment about my clothes. He came home and asked me if it was true that I had worn the same dress seven times to these receptions. I corrected him, saying it wasn’t seven but eight times. It was the only maternity dress that was more or less suitable for such occasions and I didn’t want to show him up because he always wore his work clothes.
Some of our most enjoyable times together involved sharing books. Throughout his life he was a voracious reader, reading about a book a day, taking advantage of any spare moments he had traveling from one place to another. Among his favorite books were Don Quixote, which he had read more than six times, and Marx’s Capital, which he considered a monument to human knowledge. He always encouraged me to read whatever he thought was important. We would then discuss those books. We read most of the important Latin American literary works, Russian stories and Soviet literature and the best US authors. Because I enjoyed reading historical novels, he suggested I study history. He also urged me to study economics in 1961. I didn’t want to enroll at university at that point because Aliucha3 was just a baby and I didn’t want to spend so much time away from Che.
I have to confess, I didn’t pay much attention to his negligent attitude to personal appearance. He loved a very hot bath to be prepared for him, almost like a ritual. He also liked his breakfast served to him—small things that I accepted about him, maybe because I foresaw what was to come—that our time together would be short.
Che made a return trip to the Soviet Union in 1961, to reinforce the ties between our two countries, while I traveled to China with an FMC delegation. I was pregnant with Camilo and I had to stop and rest a lot during my trip. I was very excited to visit China, perhaps because of what Che had told me about the country. I visited the communes, but I did not have the same reaction to China as Che. The Chinese had certainly achieved a great deal and it was truly astounding to see how socialism was being constructed in such a different way. But I was shocked to see the deprivation and restrictions, everyone dressed in identical uniforms.
Chinese people approached us and showed great warmth, expressing their admiration for Cuba and our revolution. We sang the July 26 Movement anthem together in Spanish; we were amazed at the efforts they made for us. It was quite an emotional experience in an immense country, so totally different from what we read in books and the international media.
In time I came to appreciate the enormous sacrifices the Chinese people had made in order to build a new country, especially
when I better understood their long history and ancient culture. I went to the Soviet Union in November that same year, where I saw another level of socialist development. Before I left, I took a Russian language course and thought I had mastered some of the vocabulary. But I was completely humiliated when I tried to speak Russian. Children would surround me every time I opened my mouth, and my compañeros from the delegation made no end of fun of me. Nevertheless, I enjoyed that trip.
Despite the years that have passed since the missile crisis of October (1962), I can still vividly recall the tension of the days when humanity faced an armed conflict of unimaginable proportions. After the Bay of Pigs, facing the constant threat of a US invasion, Cuba decided to accept the Soviet Union’s offer to have nuclear missiles on our territory. We regarded this as a legitimate act in defense of our sovereignty.
The location of these strategic arms was detected by spy planes and denounced by the US government. Unfortunately, when the crisis came to a head, Cuba was not consulted and our revolutionary government was forced to take a principled stand, refusing to succumb to the threats of imperialism. The Soviet missiles were withdrawn, but we did not allow UN inspection.
In his farewell letter to Fidel, reflecting on the heroism demonstrated by the Cuban people at that time, Che wrote: “I have lived through magnificent days and, at your side, I felt the pride of belonging to our people during the brilliant yet sad days of the Caribbean [missile] crisis.”4
In May 1962, there was another addition to our family. Che’s greatest dream was fulfilled, his male ego finally boosted, with the birth of a son, Camilo. There are many anecdotes about what Che did when he heard the news of his son’s arrival: that he smoked his cigar the wrong way, that he went to search for flowers for me but found none. Some of these stories are true, others aren’t. But there was no doubt about the delight reflected in his face when he saw his son for the first time.