June 2007

Fidel Castro's Next Surprise

Surprise, intrigue, secrecy, and deception have been hallmarks of Fidel Castro’s leadership style since the late 1940s. It is no less so today, as he continues to convalesce on the margins of power, than when he was a young conspirator and revolutionary, or during all the decades when he exercised untrammeled power.

As a university student he was implicated in murders and assassination attempts, though no charges were ever brought. He has often reminisced about the violent part he played during the carnage of the Colombian bogotazo in April 1948. And although his retellings of those tumultuous days are shrouded, reputable Colombians believe he had some responsibility for the murder of the political figure that ignited the rioting.

In the early 1950s, he demonstrated an extraordinary intuitive understanding of intelligence tradecraft. After instructing his brother Raul in Marxist ideology and coaxing him to join Cuba’s communist party, Fidel then “dangled” the compliant young Raul literally under the noses of the KGB. Raul became Fidel’s “double agent,” operating within Cuba’s communist party and maintaining contact with Soviet intelligence. The deception was so exquisitely conceived that until he died in 1971, Soviet premier Khrushchev was convinced Raul had been working for Soviet interests without Fidel’s knowledge.

Today, Fidel is concocting new surprises. His physical health has improved since the surgeries he underwent last summer and the months of precarious convalescence. He is still debilitated, perhaps gravely impaired, and is unlikely ever to exercise power as he did in the past. Yet, since late March he has reemerged in the roles of senior statesman and deus ex machina commentator, seeming to impose himself on his successors in a way that transcends figurehead status.

Castro is relishing his role as Cuba’s chief pundit, as of June 26 issuing twenty two “reflections” on a curious and unpredictable range of topics. He has ranted with comparable fervor about American policies he despises and the need for the world to replace incandescent light bulbs with fluorescent ones. Until recently, the themes he addressed were oddly detached, more pedantic than incantatory. He barely touched on domestic issues, and most observers -- on the island as well as off-- were concluding he no longer had the will or ability to engage in policy making, or that his successors were restraining him.

Then, on June 17 he sprung a major surprise, signing a tirade that he labeled a “manifesto for the Cuban people.” Unlike all the other “reflections” before and since, it was a militant and intransigent statement in which he seemed to draw a line in the sand indicating his opposition to any economic liberalization by his successors. The manifesto filled the entire front page of Granma.

Then, later the same week, on June 22, he issued “a reflection on my reflections,” briefly announcing that he would no longer expect his treatises to get front page billing, and in the case of shorter ones, no press treatment at all. He allowed that “the party’s ideological department and the executive director of the council of state may propose other options.” That sounded as if he was actually ceding authority over the circulation of his ruminations to others.

The thrust in the form of the manifesto, and the subsequent parry, both within the same week, raise the possibility that intense infighting has flared within the top ranks of the leadership. Could it be that raulistas seeking to begin implementing economic reforms have grown weary of Fidel’s unpredictable interferences? Is it possible they have been allowing him, even inducing him, to embarrass himself as he unmistakably has in at least some of his “reflections?” His extended televised interview with an obsequious Cuban reporter, aired on June 4, did nothing either to enhance his credibility as a viable leader. Viewers saw a fragile, drained old man who had difficulty expressing complex thoughts.

The approaching anniversary on July 26 may provide answers, as well as an ideal opportunity for Fidel to spring one or more surprises. He and others have recently dropped hints that he may soon make his first public appearance since last July. Assembly president Alarcon accurately presaged Fidel’s June 4 television interview when he said in late April that “it is preferable he reappear on television before appearing in a large public event.”

Fidel and his ally Venezuelan president Chavez have recently made references to Fidel again donning his trademark olive green uniform. Since last July Fidel has only been seen in athletic clothes, and would never appear at a public event in such attire. In mid June Chavez told reporters during a visit to Havana that “Fidel has his uniform there and he looks out of the corner of his eye” at it. Perhaps learning first hand of Fidel’s intentions, he added, “I think we are approaching the hour when he will wear his military uniform again.”

Fidel had already written, in a “reflection” published in Granma on May 23, that “there was talk about a date when I would make a public appearance dressed in my olive green fatigues.” To do so certainly seems to be on his mind, though it is not at all clear he would have the stamina to step out again at a public event in uniform.

But should he do so, and address a crowd, however briefly, the biggest surprise would be in what he might say. In such a moment of high drama, with the rapt attention of observers across the globe, he might announce that he had rescinded the proclamation of last July in which he provisionally yielded power. That would be consistent with the implacable, irrepressible figure the world has known for so long.

But alternatively, he might seize the moment by announcing definitively his abdication from power. Rumors I have heard emanating from Havana suggest that his wife Dalia, and other close family members, are urging Fidel to announce his retirement while standing before a crowd of Cubans, in uniform, at the end of a speech, in a highly charged, ultimate dramatic gesture.