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BOOKS Ten Days in Harlem: Fidel Castro and the Making of the 1960s

Tendentious views on Cuban leader's visit to New York and its consequences

IN ALLUDING in the title to John Reed’s book on the Russian revolution Ten Days That Shook the World, Simon Hall clearly feels that Castro’s visit to New York in 1960 has had a similar impact.

His brief trip “proved to be both a turning point in the history of the cold war and a foundational moment in the creation of what we think of as ‘the ’60’,” he writes, somewhat hyperbolically.

Hall takes Fidel Castro’s iconic stay in Harlem in the autumn of 1960 as a convenient hook on which to hang a potted history of that decade, particularly Cuba-US relations, the cold war and the global struggle for justice and independence.

The opening session of the 15th general assembly of the United Nations was undoubtedly a symbolic moment in postwar developments. For the first time, a number of newly independent nations would be present, as was the Soviet Union under its new characterful leader Nikita Khrushchev.

But the undoubted “star” of the gathering was Fidel Castro, whose tumultuous visit threw the US into panic mode.

It had made no attempt to secure suitable hotel accommodation for the Cuban delegation, which then proceeded to set up camp in Harlem, the heart of New York’s black community. This discombobulated the US government but drew acclaim from its black citizens.

While the author appears to be neither anti-Cuban or pro-US, he does sit on the political fence. To underline his thesis, he cites numerous examples such as the civil-rights movement in the US, the battles for real independence in Latin America and Africa and the student-led movements of 1968.

But none of these are directly related to this visit or developments in Cuba. And his continual reference to Castro using the moniker Maximal Leader, taken from the Spanish honorary title of “El Lider Maximo,” smacks of condescension.

Hall's reference points tend to string together newspaper reports from the New York Times, the Guardian, the Observer or the Wall Street Journal, together with extraneous anecdotes such as what Castro ate for dinner or that two Spanish-speaking women of “uncertain status” appeared one day in the hotel foyer.

He also makes a facile comparison between JF Kennedy and Fidel Castro because both “came from privileged backgrounds.” A historian’s aim, I would argue, should be to dig behind newspaper headlines to reveal the real motivation behind events.

But Hall hardly does so and the book is replete with statements that are hardly substantiated or interrogated: “Throughout the 1960s,” Hall writes, “Fidel’s government bore down on the free press and media, taking control...” We are asked to accept that Castro and his comrades overthrew a dictatorship but the press and media under that dictator was “free.”

Elsewhere,  Hall writes that once “Fidel and his revolutionaries had strengthened their hold on Cuba, they turned increasingly to Moscow and the wider communist world for support...” yet there is little explanation of why the Cubans were obliged to do this.

Even when referring to the more distant past, his assertions can be dubious. “During the early years of the cold war,” he writes, “Stalin had viewed non-communist movements for national liberation in Africa and Asia as 'class enemies’.”

This hardly fits the reality. The Moscow-based Communist International had a record, from the 1920s onwards, of supporting numerous national liberation struggles. The International Workers’ Relief organisation, set up by Willi Munzenberg on behalf of the Comintern gave unstinting support to national liberation struggles around the globe and set up the first anti-colonial and anti-imperialist organisation to assist those struggles. Hardly a policy of aiding the class enemy.
 
While the book captures well the febrile and celebratory atmosphere of those 10 iconic days in New York, it hardly helps deepen our understanding of the period and it is difficult to understand what its purpose is, apart from reminding the reader of how iconoclastic the Cuban revolution was in the early years after its defeat of the dictator Batista.

But for a deeper understanding of the significance of that revolution and its repercussions there are other more illuminating books.

Published by Faber, £17.99.

 

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