This account of the struggle to overthrow the U.S.-backed Batista dictatorship spearheaded by the July 26 Movement and the Rebel Army, under the leadership of Fidel Castro, recounts the events from the perspective of revolutionary cadres organized in the cities.

The Militant is publishing a series of excerpts from the book. This week’s selections are taken from Chapter 8, “From the Sierra Maestra to Príncipe.” The first item is Hart’s account of the Aug. 1, 1958, massacre at the Príncipe Castle prison in Havana while Hart was imprisoned there. The second is a letter by Hart exposing the truth about those events. Written two days after the massacre, it was smuggled out of the prison and delivered to Radio Rumbos in Caracas, Venezuela, to be broadcast. Hart had been captured by the Batista dictatorship in January of 1958 and remained locked up until the revolutionary victory on Jan. 1, 1959.

Copyright © 2004 by Pathfinder Press and reprinted by permission.
 

One of the first people I ran into there was Quintín Pino Machado, who had been imprisoned on the Isle of Pines and had also been transferred to Príncipe Castle for some hearings. As soon as he saw me, Quintín asked, “Armando, are we communists?” I stood there thinking, caught off guard and not knowing exactly how to answer him. Quintín had been influenced by socialist ideas in Santa Clara, where his mother, Margot Machado, ran a school where very advanced ideas predominated. He was a communist within the ranks of the July 26 Movement.

In going back over the various letters and documents I wrote at that time, reviewing the strategic ideas I had about the seizure of power and many other subjects, I can confirm that by then I clearly had a socialist world view, as did other compañeros in the July 26 Movement.

Around that time, revolutionary literature from the Frank País Second Eastern Front, commanded by Raúl Castro, arrived at the jail. We learned that Raúl had consolidated his forces throughout that entire vast region and they were carrying out important cultural, social, and ideological work in one of the poorest territories in the country. One of the documents we received had a very big impact on me because of its social and anti-imperialist content: a June 27 message to the youth from Raúl. This document confirmed the beliefs I already had, and it was a moral and political reaffirmation of the convictions held by many of the revolutionary prisoners at Príncipe Castle.

We were transferred to a much more uncomfortable cellblock where we were overcrowded, fostering an increase in tension among the members of the action groups. It was harder to develop an organization like the one we’d had there the previous year. More restrictive prison policies had been ordered regarding visits and meals, and a number of abuses had been commit-ted. At 3:00 p.m. on August 1, 1958, tension reached a high point. On that day the guards had kicked our relatives out of the prison and mistreated them. The truth is that they didn’t want any witnesses to the approaching massacre.

The perpetrators of this heinous crime against the political prisoners were the well-known killers Conrado Carratalá Ugalde and Esteban Ventura Novo, escorted by more than twenty henchmen who were members of the National Police and the Military Intelligence Service (SIM).

Those who died in that massacre at Príncipe prison, all of whom were in the detention cell block, were political prisoners Vicente Ponce Carrasco, Reinaldo Gutiérrez Otaño, and Robert de la Rosa Valdés. Another twenty were seriously wounded.

We put up valiant resistance in that unequal encounter. Cornered behind bars, we fought with beds, with bottles, with anything we could get our hands on.

In the detention cell area, the compañeros who were near the wounded assisted them, until finally, little by little, the beasts began to get control of themselves. In spite of the uncertainty we managed to stay calm. Later we had to stand for two hours with our hands in the air, under close watch. The wounded went three hours without any medical attention.

The criminals had the gall to inform the public that the incident had been instigated by the political prisoners themselves, who had been carrying firearms and resisted, setting off the “battle” because they refused to peacefully hand over these weapons to the police. On August 2 we learned that there had been eight more victims of the sinister massacre.

We managed to send out an account of what had really happened, and I explained the details in a denunciation that we were hoping to publish both nationally and internationally.
 

The following letter describing the August 1 massacre at the Príncipe Castle prison was written to Radio Rumbos in Caracas, Venezuela.

Príncipe Castle, August 3, 1958
Mr. Manuel Iglesias
Caracas

Dear compañero:

First of all, a revolutionary embrace for the formidable job being done by Radio Rumbos, which we listen to here every night. I send you these greetings on behalf of all the compañeros in prison,

The main reason for this letter is to enclose a document that explains our position on how the events of August 1 took place. The document and the personal information I’m sending say it all. I cannot add much, since that would entail difficulties in getting it out of here.

You may assert that August 1 in Príncipe was one of the most terrible crimes committed by the tyranny in its long chain of murders. We were protesting arbitrary acts by the prison authorities and the repressive bodies. All the repressive forces then massed in Príncipe, machine-gunning the defenseless prison cellblocks for more than three hours. Unfortunately, the detention cells were more accessible to them than were our cellblocks, which are off toward a side in the castle. Here we were able to resist with better luck. We set fire to our mattresses, closed the cell doors, and obstructed the passage with the burning iron grating of our beds.

Eventually, by machine-gunning the cellblocks they were able to force their way in, where they were met by shouts of “Down with the tyranny!” and “Death to the murderers!”

Colonel Carratalá was wounded in the face by his own men, and it seems we owe our lives to this fact. After we surrendered, they took us to a wall, amid blows and insults, and lined us up against it. Nearly a hundred men stood firm with our arms in the air and the henchmen’s guns at our backs, as we awaited the shots. At that point news arrived from the detention cells, and they abandoned their plans. Perhaps they did not want the scandal to become bigger than it already was. Or perhaps it was that a number of hours had already gone by, and the climax of the situation had passed.

The one who directed the massacre at the detention cells was Irenaldo García Báez, second in command of the Military Intelligence Service (SIM). We’ve also heard—although they’re keeping us cut off from contact—that Esteban Ventura was there. You can state that Garcia Báez fired on Cellblock 1, where all the dead and wounded basically were.

You should also tell the people of Cuba that the honesty and integrity of the imprisoned combatants was just as firm as when they confronted the murderous bullets of the regime in the streets or in the mountains.

Here, my friend, there’s a whole legion of selfless combatants from the clandestine movement who demonstrated once again the extraordinary heroic capacity of Cuba’s youth, because the stance of the compañeros on the afternoon of August 1 can be termed sheer heroism. You can confidently assert that the argument about us having weapons is false. Had we in fact possessed them, we would still be resisting today. You can also state that the story about an escape plot by us is false. It was simply a protest against the arbitrary acts of the prison system, which the tyranny, without even hearing us, responded to by machine-gunning the cellblocks.

But the most serious threat—that they will return—is weighing heavily today on the minds of all the political prisoners in Príncipe Castle. We have news that they will try to take advantage of any situation for a new act of savagery. On the afternoon of August 1 they came with the specific aim of murdering a group of us whom they considered most committed.

For this reason, we ask you to keep public opinion in Cuba and internationally on alert, and to help the compañeros of the July 26 Movement committees with a series of instructions you’ve received—or will be receiving—in this regard through the organization. We don’t need to stress the necessity of this, because we know you can appreciate them.

Before finishing, I want to stress that you should broadcast the news and information without even a hint of who the informant is. Otherwise, there would be no way to continue with the work I’m involved in.

In addition, don’t say that we listen to you every night, because if so, they will take away our radio.

I send a strong comradely embrace to you and special greetings for Radio Rumbos. I hope to be able soon to listen to your fiery revolutionary words over CMQ.

Warm regards,
Dr. Armando Hart Dávalos

P.S. Report that Captain Ramos was the one at the prison who telephoned the repressive bodies, and that Colonel Pérez Couset, head of the prison, gave his approval.  
 
 
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