Ocnus.Net
The Life and Loves of Fidel Castro
By Christine Toomey, Sunday Times 28/12/08
Dec 28, 2008 - 8:23:02 AM
There are no photographs of her parents in the bungalow in Miami’s
Little
Havana where Alina Fernandez Revuelta lives. But she need only glance
at the
triangular birthmark on her left arm to be reminded of the illicit
union
that led to her conception. The skin blemish runs in the family of
Fidel
Castro.
When Alina was a few months old, Castro dispatched one of his
sisters to check
if the infant bore the mark. Only then did he accept she was his. Ten
years
later, Alina’s mother, Natalia “Naty” Revuelta, told her the man who
sometimes visited their house at night, enveloping the girl in clouds
of
cigar smoke and, once, giving her a bearded doll dressed in olive-green
uniform to look like himself, was her father. When she was 12, Castro
conceded Alina could carry his name. After a childhood of neglect, of
being
ignored when she wrote begging him to visit, she refused. By then
Castro was
firmly entrenched as Cuba’s Maximo Jefe — maximum leader — a position
he
would hold for nearly half a century, until anointing his brother Raul
president earlier this year.
The chaos Castro’s communist regime has wrought on one of the most
beautiful
islands in the Caribbean has seen more than 2m of his countrymen flee
into
exile. But it is his personal path of destruction through the lives of
those
closest to him, the legions of women he has slept with and the children
they
have borne him, that has, until now, been a closely guarded secret.
Castro’s private life has always been strictly taboo in Cuba’s
state-controlled media. He has rarely been photographed with any of the
women he has been involved with, and whenever such pictures have
appeared,
the women have been captured coincidentally, in the background.
The overwhelming image of Castro for 50 years has been that of a
lone, ranting
David taking on every capitalist Goliath, especially the US. Castro
long ago
made a cold calculation that his power would only last if his
countrymen,
and the rest of the world, did not really know him.
“He was good at PR,” says Alina, a diminutive 52-year-old with
doleful brown
eyes. “He always portrayed himself as this lonely man with a beard and
cigar, fighting imperialism 24 hours a day with nothing else on his
mind.”
Nothing could be further from the truth. As his countrymen brace
themselves
for the mandatory flag-waving that will accompany the 50th anniversary
of
the revolution next month, Alina and others who fled to the “city of
worms”,
as the Cuban strongman calls Miami, are stripping away Castro’s mask.
The
picture they paint is of a serial philanderer with an unknown number of
progeny.
"My mother always said he was very passionate,” says Alina. Castro
wooed her
mother, a green-eyed high-society belle, with feverish letters written
from
prison, when he was incarcerated between November 1953 and May 1955
after
his first attempt to overthrow Cuba’s despised dictator Fulgencio
Batista.
They begin, “My dearest Naty”, “My incomparable Naty”. “You’re
audacious and
I like that. I am on fire. Write to me, for I cannot be without your
letters. I love you very much.”
“When you’re in jail you have all the time in the world to become a
poet, a
manipulator, a psychologist,” Alina says. She has reason to be bitter.
She
and her mother suffered at Castro’s hands. So did the woman he was
married
to when he was declaring his love for Naty. Mirta Diaz-Balart had
already
borne Castro a son, Fidelito, or Little Fidel, four years old when his
father was jailed. Castro met Mirta through her brother, a fellow law
student at Havana University, and pursued her despite opposition from
her
family, which had connections to the Batista regime and thought him
beneath
her. Castro was the third of seven children born out of wedlock to a
domestic servant, Lina Ruz Gonzalez, and her master, Angel Castro, a
peasant
who became a wealthy sugar-plantation owner. During his early years,
Fidel
and his siblings lived with their mother in a shack adjoining the house
where Angel lived with his wife and their two children.
At the age of five, Castro and two siblings were sent to live with
impoverished Haitian foster parents. He was then sent to a Jesuit
boarding
school in Havana, where, though a brilliant student, he was bullied for
being illegitimate and not baptised. “His psychological make-up comes
from
being a bastard, a second-class citizen in his own home, who grew up
determined he’d never be made to feel that way again,” says Andy Gomez,
assistant provost at Miami University’s Institute for Cuban and
Cuban-American Studies. “Since he had little sense of identity as he
was
growing up, he created his own” — one that would always be in control,
never
again dependent on anyone, least of all a woman.
“I’ve a feeling that deep down he may be shy and emotionally
vulnerable,”
Alina concedes.
Castro was well into his teens before his father dissolved his first
marriage
and married Lina. From then on, it seems his parents indulged him
materially, paying for a lavish honeymoon when he married Mirta in
1948. But
he soon tired of his bride, who had little interest in politics. Sure
that
armed struggle could overthrow Batista, he was fast becoming a
charismatic
champion of social justice and national sovereignty, and his attempts
to
foment revolt were attracting followers, including Naty Revuelta. Also
married, but bored, she sold her jewels for the rebels to buy weapons
and
sent Castro the key to her home (in an envelope laced with perfume) so
that
he could hold clandestine meetings there. Their relationship was still
platonic when Castro was jailed. But he was infatuated with the woman
once
described as having the looks of a movie star “dipped by the gods into
a
golden oil, like Ava Gardner and Rita Hayworth”.
By this time Mirta’s family connections with the Batista regime had
driven a
wedge between her and Castro, and in one letter to Naty he joked
cruelly
that at least prison gave him some peace from domestic arguments: “I’m
going
to write to the [prison] tribunal reproaching them for having sentenced
me
to 15 years rather than 200.” Two letters Castro wrote to his wife and
would-be lover were switched. When Mirta read what had been meant for
Naty
she was devastated, filed for divorce and quickly married again, moving
with
Fidelito to New York. Castro vowed revenge, writing to one of his
sisters
from prison that he could not bear to think of his son sleeping under
the
same roof as “my most repulsive enemies”.
A messy custody battle over Fidelito followed the divorce. Mirta
once resorted
to kidnapping her son when Castro refused to return him after a visit,
and
was then forced to return to live in Cuba if she wanted to remain with
her
child. She eventually went into exile in Spain and has never spoken of
her
marriage to Castro, some believe because if she did she’d never be
allowed
back to Cuba to visit her Fidelito, now a 59-year-old nuclear scientist
with
children of his own.
Care of his son was not uppermost in Castro’s mind, however, when he
got out
of prison. He swiftly indulged his passion for Naty, and Alina was
conceived. He then left for a period of exile in Mexico, to continue
plotting revolution with his new comrade-in-arms, Che Guevara, before
returning to Cuba and spending two years waging guerrilla warfare from
the
mountains of the Sierra Maestra. When his rebel band overthrew Batista
in
January 1959, Castro paraded the streets of Havana astride a Sherman
tank
with Fidelito and another loyal comrade-in-arms, Huber Matos, by his
side.
>From then, the revolutionary hero had women at his feet. “He was young,
charismatic and powerful. He didn’t have to do much to attract them,”
says
Alina. During the Sierra Maestra years, he had acquired a new mistress.
Celia Sanchez, not known for her looks, was a committed revolutionary
and a
born organiser. She would jealously guard Castro from other women for
the
next 2½ decades.
Huber Matos perches on the edge of his seat in the Miami home where
he has
lived in exile for nearly 30 years, his eyes blazing as he spits out
the
words “crook”, “unscrupulous” and “zero morals” to describe the man he
once
fought alongside for Cuba’s freedom. Matos is remarkably fit for a man
of 90
who spent 20 years in prison — 16 in solitary confinement — for
accusing
Castro of betraying the democratic ideals of the Cuban revolution.
Matos and Celia Sanchez were close friends. “She was a good person,
very
Catholic, very passionate about social justice,” he says. “When I
got there it was very clear she was sleeping with Castro. She was both
his
secretary and his lover. He told me she was ‘very useful’. I thought he
should have treated her with more respect, but women were just
instruments
to Castro. I do not believe he is a man with any personal sentiment or
feelings. He uses people, and once they have served their purpose he
gets
rid of them.”
Castro may have felt little for the women he slept with, but he
inflamed
strong passions in them, as Matos recalls when he describes how Celia
reacted when one very attractive young teacher offered the maximum
leader
private English lessons. “I was standing at the bottom of the stairs as
Castro came down and this blonde teacher shouted after him, ‘Don’t
forget
those private lessons, Fidel! I’ll be waiting for you!’ Then I saw
Celia
come up behind her and sink her nails into the woman’s back to get her
out
of the way. She was very jealous.” Castro completely ignored the
catfight
going on behind him, Matos says. “He was totally indifferent.”
Celia’s gatekeeping failed to prevent numerous sexual liaisons, as
Castro’s
prowess increased with his power. One of the few to have kissed and
told on
the Cuban leader is Marita Lorenz, then a naive 19-year-old
German-American
concentration camp survivor, whom Castro seduced in February 1959.
Lorenz
claims he installed her as his lover for seven months in a suite in the
Havana Libre hotel, formerly the Havana Hilton, which he took over as
his
private residence in the months after deposing Batista. “Every day,
letters
came from women all over the world offering to do anything to meet
him,”
Lorenz, who witnessed a string of flings, has said. She was spurned,
she
says, after she became pregnant and had an abortion.
She returned to the US and was enlisted by the CIA to assassinate
her former
lover. They gave her two capsules of botulism to drop in his drink.
But,
waiting for him in the Havana Libre, she panicked and flushed them down
the
bidet. In a scene straight out of a thriller, Lorenz describes how
Castro
came in, lay down on the bed with a cigar and asked her: “Did you come
here
to kill me?” When she admitted she had, he pulled out a handgun and,
with
his eyes closed, passed it to her. She describes how Castro chewed his
cigar, smiled and said, “You can’t kill me. Nobody can”, before
sleeping
with her and allowing her to flee.
The CIA failed in more than 630 attempts to assassinate the Cuban
leader,
while his reputation as a lady-killer flourished. There was his reputed
affair with the Italian actress Gina Lollobrigida, and alleged
couplings
with an unnamed Cuban actress who claimed he was a selfish brute for
simply
“putting his pants down, and quick”. One underage dancer at the
Tropicana
nightclub said he smoked throughout; another said he never took his
boots
off.
Celia didn’t put a stop to such dalliances, seeing them as little
threat. But
one relationship she was determined to thwart was that with Alina’s
mother,
barring her rival’s access to Castro at every turn. When Alina was
eight,
she was dispatched to Paris with her mother, who had been given a
spurious
mission to carry out chemical espionage, on the orders, Alina believes,
of
the woman she calls “La Venenosa” — the poisonous one. When they
returned to
Cuba, Naty was kept on the sidelines and shunted from one minor
ministerial
job to another.
Alina was a nervous and rebellious teenager, developing eating
disorders for
which her father ordered she undergo psychiatric treatment. She married
four
times in quick succession — her father attending only the first
nuptials —
and started mixing with dissidents. When Castro refused to let her
leave the
island, Alina sought the help of exiles and, in 1993, at the age of 37,
was
eventually smuggled out on a false passport.
Naty remained in Havana and has never spoken critically of Castro.
“She
receives no privileges now or special attention. She has gone through
very
hard times. I think her heart was broken by my father,” says Alina. It
is
the only time in our conversation she has called him that.
Drive west through Havana’s suburbs and eventually you approach what
used to
be a fishing village, Jaimanitas. After the revolution, the area became
heavily militarised. There is a military academy here, but also a far
more
secret installation — bristling with soldiers and secret police — that
those
Cubans who know of its existence call Punto Cero, or ground zero. At
the
heart of the complex is a swimming pool, basketball and tennis courts,
a
helicopter landing pad and the entrance to a tunnel to Havana’s
military
airport. It is said that Castro could survive at this secret compound
for
two years without ever having to leave.
For years it was rumoured that, in addition to Celia, who kept an
apartment in
Havana, Castro had another long-term mistress living at ground zero:
Dalia
Soto del Valle had been a champion swimmer in her youth and had caught
Castro’s eye in the early 1960s, when she worked as a teacher on his
literacy campaign. Dalia, known as Lala, bore Castro five sons, all
with
names beginning with “A” in homage, it is said, to Alexander the Great,
Castro’s hero: Angel, Alex, Antonio, Alejandro and Alexis. There were
even
reports that Castro and Dalia had married in 1980 (the year Celia
died),
though Castro seemed to dispel such rumours in an interview with Oliver
Stone in 2003 when he said being married once was “more than enough”.
Images of Dalia seated several rows behind Castro at public events
have
surfaced over the years. Then six years ago an ex-girlfriend of their
son
Antonio smuggled out of Cuba a secretly filmed video of Castro with
Dalia,
their grown sons and several grandchildren. The Cuban leader was
pictured
eating breakfast in his pyjamas and chatting with his grandchildren as
they
played in the pool. In 2006 a young woman named Idalmis Menendez fled
into
exile and began talking in detail about Castro’s secret home life.
Idalmis
had been married to Castro and Dalia’s second son, Alex. She portrayed
Dalia
as a scheming spy who secretly taps her sons’ phones and passes reports
of
their conversations to their father; she said Castro would pore over
these
reports at night while watching videos of dissident activity filmed by
Cuba’s secret police on a giant TV screen — one of his few luxury items
— in
his private quarters. While Castro, now 82, lives relatively frugally —
his
brother Raul, 77, being the one to indulge in the material trappings of
power — Idalmis says Dalia dresses simply only in Castro’s company. As
soon
as he leaves, Idalmis says her former mother-in-law changes into
designer
clothes and smothers herself with Chanel perfume.
Very little is known about Castro and Dalia’s sons. “For some reason
he
secluded her from the rest of the family. It seems she [Dalia] is now
more
known abroad than in Cuba. Yet she is the one who has lasted. Maybe she
is
more patient,” Alina muses about a woman she has never met.
Alina did meet her older half-brother Fidelito, by chance, in a lift
when she
was 12 and he was 18 and both were going to visit their Uncle Raul.
>From him
she learnt about the existence of another half-brother, roughly
Fidelito’s
age, called Jorge Angel, conceived on a train in the autumn of 1948.
The
three siblings eventually formed a friendship of sorts.
Many years later, when Alina was plotting to leave Cuba, she heard
of yet
another half-brother who wanted to get to know her. The two secretly
met “on
the street”, Alina says, reluctant to give more details, even his name,
for
fear he might faces reprisals from his father. She does say that he was
one
of Castro and Dalia’s sons.
Within days of coming to live in Miami in 2001, after a period spent
in Spain
and elsewhere in the US, Alina was informed by her aunt (Castro’s
sister
Juanita, who fled into exile more than 40 years ago) that she also had
a
half-sister, Francisca Pupo, who had been living in exile in Miami for
five
years. She knows little more about her than that. Many of those who
know
about Castro’s youthful indiscretions have taken their secrets to the
grave.
Lazaro Asencio, 83, also fled into exile in Miami after falling out
with
Castro. He recalls the Cuban leader asking to borrow his blue Buick car
for
the night in 1952. “He said he wanted to take a pretty local girl out,”
says
Asencio. Years later he was approached in the street by a woman holding
the
hand of a seven-year-old girl. The child, she told him, had been
conceived
in the back of his car that night. Castro later dispatched his brother
to
buy her a house and organise birthday parties for their daughter.
Asencio
doesn’t know if Castro ever came to visit the girl himself. The
daughter was
Francisca Pupo.
When I ask Alina how many siblings she thinks she has, she pauses.
“There are
eight,” she says, hesitating slightly before adding, “I think.”
The number could be far higher. Almost as an aside, Andy Gomez of
Miami
University told me the story of a German businessman he met who, in
2002,
had just returned from a business trip to Cuba. At one formal dinner,
in a
gesture of largesse, Castro had turned to him and said, “I am going to
give
you a gift,” before leaning back to his doctor, always in close
attendance,
and instructing him to “get my German friend here a box of those pills
I
take on a daily basis”.
Gomez took the pills to be analysed, hoping to shed light on
Castro’s secret
health issues (a year before, Castro had fainted in public). “When the
lab
called me back, they said, ‘You’re not going to believe this,’ ” says
Gomez,
containing his laughter. “Those pills were the highest strength Viagra
available on the market.”
Source: Ocnus.net 2008