The Militant (logo)  
   Vol. 69/No. 47           December 5, 2005  
 
 
‘Cuba’s experience is at your disposal’
Víctor Dreke, Cuba’s ambassador to Equatorial Guinea,
speaks at first book fair in Central African nation
(feature article)
 
Below are major excerpts of remarks given by Víctor Dreke on the opening day of the First Equatorial Guinea Book Fair, held October 17-20 at the National University campus in Malabo, the capital of that Central African country. Dreke, Cuba’s ambassador to Equatorial Guinea, was presenting From the Escambray to the Congo: In the Whirlwind of the Cuban Revolution, published in both Spanish and English by Pathfinder Press.

The book is an interview with Dreke on his five-decade-long record as a revolutionary fighter. He recounts his involvement as a teenager in the underground struggle and revolutionary war that overthrew the U.S.-backed Batista dictatorship in Cuba in 1959, and his role as a commander of the volunteer units of workers, peasants, and youth that defeated the CIA-organized counterrevolutionary bands in the Escambray mountains of central Cuba in the early 1960s. He describes his participation in 1965 in the column of Cuban internationalist volunteer combatants—as second in command under Ernesto Che Guevara—that fought in the Congo alongside Congolese liberation fighters.

In 1966-68 Dreke headed Cuba’s military mission in Guinea-Bissau—then fighting for its independence from Portugal—and the Republic of Guinea (Guinea-Conakry). In subsequent years he has served as a representative of the Cuban Revolution throughout Africa. Dreke has been Cuba’s ambassador to Equatorial Guinea since October 2003.

The translation from Spanish and the subtitles are by the Militant.
 

*****

BY VÍCTOR DREKE  
We would like to express our appreciation, on behalf of the Cubans in Equatorial Guinea and of the Cuban people, for the magnificent event that is taking place for the first time in this country.

In 1966 I had my first opportunity to meet Equatorial Guineans living in exile in Guinea-Conakry, whose president was compañero [Ahmed] Sékou-Touré. At that time I never imagined I would come here and present a book in your country, which is now free and independent.

On October 1, 2003, when I arrived here officially as Cuba’s ambassador to Equatorial Guinea, we set out to do everything possible to give what little help our people and our government could offer the Guinean people and its government. And I personally gave this book, which is being presented publicly here for the first time, to the honorable president [Teodoro] Obiang.

It was a real joy when a few days ago, on October 12 during the celebration of the 37th anniversary of this country’s independence, the president told us, “I read the book and I liked it.”

Let’s talk a little about this book. Don’t be alarmed by the photo on the cover. Times have changed. I was young then, like you, and got involved in the struggle when I was 15. I was a Black kid from the barrio, a poor and humble barrio, where the houses had dirt floors. That’s where I was born. The situation at that time demanded a struggle against a dictatorship, the Batista dictatorship, which you’ll read about in the book.

I joined the movement, as I studied and worked, and became active in the revolutionary struggle. Time passed. I was jailed and had to leave my home town clandestinely. I went into the mountains and joined the revolutionary forces.

In 1959 the revolution triumphed. Twenty years old at the time of this victory, I had to take on various responsibilities, which are described here in the book. The title we chose for the book is From the Escambray to the Congo: In the Whirlwind of the Cuban Revolution. That is because something new happened every day in the revolution. We had triumphed, but part of Batista’s army still existed, even though the rest had been defeated by our troops, by the people. Every day the Cuban people were being attacked.

And, finally the U.S. government—I’ll say it quietly, so no ones gets scared or is offended—landed groups of mercenaries, who took up arms in nearly all the provinces of Cuba, of which there were six at that time.

Here there are compañeros who have studied in Cuba and know that at the time it was a country of 6 million—currently 11 million—and in an area of 110,000 square kilometers [42,000 square miles], a small country defending itself against that assault.

In this photo you can see that the people involved were workers, peasants, students, and other young people who were fighting to defend the victory of the revolution. This struggle, which defeated the mercenaries, was very important and very powerful.  
 
Respect for national sovereignty
In 1965 the revolution and Fidel [Castro] gave me the tremendous opportunity of coming to Africa—to Congo-Léopoldville, today the Democratic Republic of the Congo—to fight together with Commander Ernesto Che Guevara and a group of 130 Cuban compañeros under the leadership of the Congolese liberation movement.

In the countries where we have been—at that time, as combatants, and today assisting in the country’s development—the Cuban Revolution has always adhered to and will continue to adhere to the principle that those who decide things are the citizens of that country. We have always respected the decisions of the citizens of the country we are in, and have done what they have said, whether we agreed totally or partially or not at all. That is the principle of respect for a country’s national sovereignty. That is why, whatever event Cuba takes part in, we put our heart and soul into it, but when the leadership of that country makes a decision, we support it.

When we arrived in Equatorial Guinea in 2003, one of the things we thought we could help with was cultural development. We came here not just to offer experiences—we don’t consider ourselves wise men or wizards. Besides, we don’t like to talk about ourselves or about Cuba. We came to have an exchange and learn from you, and to say: here is Cuba’s modest contribution. Cuba’s experience is at your disposal; you can do the same here or not. That is a principle of the Cuban Revolution. [Applause]

We are very happy today that this first book fair is taking place. We too began this way with our first book fair in Havana. Today we do the fair throughout the country. Millions of books are sold at the Cuban book fair, which is an international fair.

Some day you too will do it throughout the country. You’re off to a good start, in our opinion, because you’ve done it with determination and held it at a center for young people.

Before the end of our first fair, we had already formed the committee for the second fair, and the call was made for the second fair. And we went on from there.

Our people, like you, like all peoples, has a historic culture. But culture is like a plant: it has to be fertilized, it must be watered in order to advance; otherwise it starts to wither. In our country, which had been ruled by capitalism for many years, we had to bring culture to the masses, and the Cuban government decided to develop culture.

But in a country of 6 million inhabitants at that time, we had half a million illiterates. The first thing we carried out was a literacy campaign so that the entire population could read. Otherwise, who were the books for? Who was going to read the books? The capitalists, who were the ones who knew how to read? No. We wanted the young people to read—the future generations, everyone.

So the literacy campaign was organized. And the first book published in Cuba after the revolution—100,000 copies—was Don Quixote de la Mancha, in March 1959. [Applause]

That’s why I say: if we achieved that, it can be done, and we know you will be able to do it. And you can count on Cuba’s help.  
 
We’re compañeros wherever we are
In the case of the Congo—which is mentioned in this book, along with other places we’ve been, such as Guinea-Bissau—we offered our modest participation. We lost six Cuban compañeros who died fighting in the Congo, and other compañeros gave their lives in other countries, as you know.

One of the principles of our revolution—I was telling the rector this the other day, and I’ll take advantage of the opportunity to say it here. Although some day you will be far away, we remain compañeros. No matter where in the world we find ourselves, we are always compañeros.

I was also explaining this to the compañeros from Pathfinder, who have done a lot of work. It cost them great effort to produce this book because, although it may not seem so, I always find it difficult to talk about myself. But they succeeded, and I always congratulate them for that.

We’ve gone to many places, and now we find ourselves here in Equatorial Guinea. Here we have our doctors, agricultural experts, and educators, according to the agreements decided on by your government.

But we look forward to and are striving for the day that will come when our doctors, agricultural technicians, our support personnel will be replaced completely by compañeros from Equatorial Guinea. That is what Cuba and our teachers work for: training you to replace them.

We want you to be able to advance by yourselves. What people need, after receiving help, is to be able to develop by themselves: to have their own cadres who carry out their own decisions. That is what we did in Cuba.

This book talks about war, about forces, and many things that have changed with the times. Today we are engaged in an ideological battle—as commander Fidel Castro puts it, a battle of ideas. What is the battle of ideas? To teach the entire world to read and write. To bring health care to the entire world. To defend the national principles of each country.

Those of you who go to Cuba to study know that when you are there you celebrate your national day. And on that day—you can ask Carmela [Oyono Ayíngono], who studied in Cuba—they dress in their traditional clothing and carry out their traditional events. This is your country. We don’t brainwash anyone.  
 
We didn’t come to Africa for oil
And we don’t take with us anything from Africa or anywhere else. From Africa we have taken back to Cuba only two things: our dead—the more than 2,000 Cubans who have perished in combat in different African countries—and the hearts of the majority of Africans. [Applause]

But we haven’t taken with us either oil or anything else. When we went to Angola we never asked for a drop of oil. We didn’t go there for that. We went there because Angola needed the support of Cuban forces so that apartheid would no longer mistreat and suppress that country. And we’ve gone to other places because it was necessary.

Today there are more than 500 Cuban doctors in Guatemala. We haven’t gone there in search of Guatemalan products, but to help Guatemalans in light of the misfortune they confront because of the consequences of Hurricane Stan. And right now Cuban doctors are heading to Pakistan, at the request of the government there, in the wake of the earthquake.

Nor did we come to Equatorial Guinea looking for anything—only your hearts, because we are brothers and sisters now and forever. It’s important to state this for the youth present, because sometimes the question is asked: What are these people coming here for? To offer, alongside you, what little we have.

What joy it is to see how Equatorial Guinea progresses. It’s not the Guinea I knew in 2000 when I first arrived here at the Malabo airport, under a torrential downpour, and there were no lights. I could see two compañeros there with a little light shining so we could get off the plane. That’s not the Malabo airport of today. It has been developed.

And what a joy that you already have a school of medicine. Sometimes the newspapers don’t talk about that. You should talk about the medical school and about the doctors that are training there, of the more than 50 sixth-year students who will soon be arriving here from Cuba. We should talk about that! Because that shows the future for Equatorial Guinea. [Applause]

In Cuba, at the time of the revolutionary victory, we had 6,000 doctors, and we were left with 3,000, because the “friends” who live 90 miles from us—we’ll say it quietly so they won’t hear; everyone knows who they are!—took 3,000 doctors from us, and left us with 3,000. Yet today we have 67,000 doctors or more.

We are pleased to say that we have nearly 20,000 doctors serving in Venezuela, and we have doctors who have gone to Guatemala. The plane could not enter Guatemala; it had to stay in Honduras because of the storm conditions. They traveled by highway and there are still doctors who have not arrived at their destination because the rivers cannot be crossed. There are 500 doctors, with their backpacks on their shoulder, who are youth like yourselves. Guatemalans who had graduated from the School of Medicine in Cuba joined the group, of course, to respond to the situation in their country.

All of this is culture. Every person uses the words of their choice, but this is culture. Culture is vast, with so many places where it is developed and ways to develop it. It’s the most important thing a people has.

When a people do not have culture, they simply cannot be free. That is why we understand the statement by president Obiang when he says to you that to be a cultured people is more important than to be a people that is wealthy. It’s true, it’s a wealth that can never be taken from you.  
 
I am part of Africa
I was very moved by the poem by compañera Carmela. She is part of Cuba, just as I am part of Africa.

Why am I part of Africa? Because I had the opportunity to come to Africa and to sweat alongside Africans, because I had the opportunity to carry Africans and to see Africans carrying our dead in the Congo and in Guinea-Bissau. That is why I am part of Africa, just like those of you who study in Cuba are part of Cuba. Your first country is Equatorial Guinea, but you have a little piece of Cuba in you. A piece of your heart is in Cuba, like ours is in Africa.

The young people will have a chance to read this book, and perhaps some day a meeting can be held, and we can explain more details and questions you may have here.

We would like to thank you again, and to thank the rector and the organizing committee of this event, which sets an example to follow.

We congratulate you for this book fair, and you will have Cuba’s unconditional support for the second book fair. I also urge you to visit Cuba for the book fair in February to exchange experiences and take your books there.

Thank you for letting us talk here about our modest experiences.  
 
A question and an answer
[After the presentation, a question was asked from the audience.]

Question: Our brother Fidel Castro, in his condemnation of imperialism, always says that Cubans have “the strength of the Black man, the shrewdness of the Indian, and the mala leche [orneriness—literally, “sour milk”] of the Spaniard. [Laughter and applause] Could you please comment?

Dreke: It’s true we have those three things. The Indians lived in Cuba, but they disappeared, because those who say they discovered us in 1492 wiped out all the Indians. Those who invaded us and colonized us—fortunately, or unfortunately— were the same ones who colonized you.

And what have Blacks given us? Everything. On October 10, 1868—that’s one of the reasons this month is important—Cubans rose up in arms against the Spanish colonial government. The leader of this revolt was Carlos Manuel de Céspedes, and together with them a large group of slaves rose up. Céspedes gave freedom to the slaves. They were the Black Africans that had been sent to Cuba in those years. So they united. That is the strength of the Blacks that we have.

And our “mala leche”—we have to say it as you do; in Cuba this is a vulgar term but here it seems it’s not, so the female compañeras will excuse us for using this phrase—our “mala leche” is because for years we’ve had to confront imperialism. In 1902, when they say we became free and independent, we were not free. They imposed on us what was called the Platt Amendment, a law that gave the U.S. government the power to intervene in Cuba any time they wanted. We had to rebel against this.

Later they installed their puppets, Batista and others before Batista. Until January 1, 1959, when the revolution triumphed, with Fidel Castro at the head. And ever since the victory of the revolution, they have wanted to crush us. We are respectful, but we will never let anyone crush us, nor are we going to sit by with our arms crossed. Now things have changed and it’s with books… But if not—and I hope not—then…. Well, I don’t want to say a lot, because later they’ll say I’m leading a subversive action here. [Laughter and applause]

Today we continue to stand up to more than four decades of a total blockade. Despite all that, whatever we have the means to do, we will do with you.

We must defend ourselves, just as you defended yourselves in March of last year from the attempted coup by the mercenaries. It so happens we live near a country that you know…. We said we weren’t going to talk about politics. [Laughter] Those involved in the conspiracy were South Africans, the South Africans who are not our friends—those in power, those like Mandela, are our friends—those who the Angolans and Cubans had defeated at Cuito Cuanavale, where we took away their reputation for being tough guys and for being the best army in the world after the Americans.*

And it’s possible they might have taken it out on the poor little Cubans who are here, the Cuban doctors who aren’t soldiers and who don’t have any guns; we don’t even have knives.

They would have had to kill us. Those South Africans might come, not only to take it out on the government of Equatorial Guinea, but to take the opportunity to take it out on the little Cubans who are here. They would say: “Those were the ones who made us run in Angola.” Yes sir, they sure did run—with the Angolans chasing them, and we were there next to the Angolans! That’s the truth.

So the orneriness is for the enemy. For everyone else it’s hearts and flowers.

Well, is there another question…not as lechosa [sticky] as that one? [Laughter and applause]

[The event concluded and the moderator invited the audience to proceed to the book sale.]


*In 1988, Cuban and Angolan combatants defeated an invasion of Angola by the South African apartheid regime at the battle of Cuito Cuanavale. In March 2004 an attempted coup against the government of Equatorial Guinea was aborted when South African and other mercenaries were arrested in both Zimbabwe and in Equatorial Guinea.
 
 
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