Following contradictory news reports on Che’s death in Bolivia, Fidel Castro went on Cuban television on October 15, 1967, to confirm his death.
As you must have figured out, the reason for this address is the news that has been arriving from Bolivia since October 9, and that has appeared for the last few days in our press.
I must begin by stating that we have become convinced that this news—that is, the news related to the death of Commander Ernesto Guevara—is, painfully, true. On previous occasions dispatches have been published asserting his death, but it was always easy to see that such reports were unfounded.
When wire service reports about his death began to arrive on October 9, the character of the dispatches and the entire set of circumstances naturally made the news cause for concern. But still there was nothing definite. The news continued on October 10, but the reports clearly contained a series of contradictions. They mentioned, for example, a scar on his left hand, but no one remembered a scar on Commander Ernesto Guevara’s left hand. However, we recalled that he had scars on his neck and leg—bullet wounds from the war and, once, from an accidental shot that left a scar on his face. But none of these details were mentioned. Certain contradictions were noted and, above all, there was a general climate of disbelief in the news coming from Bolivia. So much so, that on the afternoon of October 10, any one of us would have expressed serious doubts about the accuracy of the reports.
Certain other indications began to appear, however, such as the first photographs. The first photograph, which arrived late on the night of October 10, did not bear a great resemblance—that is, many of us who first saw this photo tended to reject the idea it was Che.
We nevertheless expected that if it was an attempt to spread false news, or if it was a mistake, the features in the photo would be diametrically different. And we were concerned because there were some very general resemblances—that is, it might not be a photo of him, but we could not say categorically that it wasn’t.
This was the photograph [shows a photo]. I don’t think it can be picked up very well by the TV cameras, and it’s also not a very clear photo. However, a few hours later, another photograph arrived that depicted some unmistakable features of his face. This photo is also very dark, but with just a look at it you can make out… When a number of us saw this photo we began to think the news might be true, or, rather, for the first time we began to become convinced that the news might very well be true. This is the photo.
Then came a third photograph, in which the entire body is visible, on a stretcher. It too was a photo that could not be considered definitive; it’s also a dark photo.
The next day more photographs began to come in, until one arrived that was very clear, which is this one [shows photo]. It is so clear that possibly even when reproduced on newsprint it will still come across clearly.
I should explain that it is not simply a matter of our accepting the photograph as definite proof, but rather of the photograph as one of a whole series of circumstances that—in our opinion—confirm its authenticity, circumstances I will explain in a moment.
In the following days, newspapers continued to arrive from abroad, with more photographs, such as this one. Perhaps it is difficult to see this clearly on television, since it is taken from a newspaper, and naturally many of the details have already been lost.
Along with the photos, a great deal of other information began to arrive. Naturally, our approach was to collect all the facts in order to arrive at a conclusion that, in our opinion, would be absolutely certain—that is, an evaluation of the information with no room for doubt. That meant collecting all the evidence, all the photographs—those received here directly and those published in foreign newspapers—and all of the news was studied very carefully.
A few days later we received the first photographs of [Che’s Bolivian] diary that was said to have been seized. Here are some of the photos of the diary; these two photos, which are the ones that have appeared.
We did not want to give a definitive opinion until we had assembled all the available facts.
At the same time there was the question of Che’s family. His father, his brother—I’m referring to his family in Argentina who, according to the dispatches, were preparing to travel to Bolivia. We logically presumed that they would have the opportunity to make first-hand observations, and we understandably also waited for them to give their opinion first. So we waited. The trip was made, and a whole series of incidents occurred, many of which you are familiar with. They were not given the opportunity to see the body.
We nevertheless faced a delicate situation, with Che’s Argentine relatives finding, as they did, a number of strange circumstances—such as the news that the body had been buried, and then, immediately afterward, that it had been cremated. In such circumstances any relative would naturally tend to think the news was absolutely false. That is natural and logical. For our part, we were already completely sure the news was true. But we did not want to state our opinion without first informing his relatives, through mutual friends who are in touch with them from time to time. And we were able to learn, moreover, that even now his father and other relatives believe the news to be absolutely false.
If it had simply been a personal matter, then unquestionably we would not have thought of insisting, nor would we have publicly stated an opinion contradictory to theirs. But the fact is that it is a question of great public importance throughout the world, and, in addition, a question that affects our people deeply. For that reason we felt it was our duty to state our opinion.
If we thought there was the slightest doubt, our duty would be to express that doubt. If we thought the news was false, our duty would be to say that it was false. And if, in our judgment, the news was true, there were various questions that had to be considered.
In the first place, as can be imagined, it was painful for us to have to state an opinion based on news coming from an oligarchic and reactionary government, a despotic government, an oppressor of its people, an ally of imperialism, and an enemy of the revolution. Nevertheless, we found ourselves in a position of having to support and confirm the truth of that news. I think that for any revolutionary such a thing is always painful.
There was also the consideration of whether there was any benefit in maintaining doubts about the news. Regardless of the circumstances, however—even if we felt it beneficial in any way to maintain doubts about it—such a consideration would not have kept us from telling the truth. As a matter of fact, we do not believe such a course of action would be in any way beneficial. I simply raise this hypothetically.
Even if keeping it in doubt could have been beneficial in any way, the revolution has never used lies, fear of the truth, complicity with lies of any kind as its weapons. We could not do so under any circumstances. Not only do revolutionaries abroad place their trust in our telling the truth, but so do our own people. They have always been sure that they have never been lied to, and that when a truth must be stated publicly, that truth will always be stated publicly.
And as people read the news, many were waiting for the revolutionary government and the party, their party, to tell them what was true and what were lies. Therefore, whatever the circumstances, we considered it our duty to express our opinion, although—as I said before—there was one thing that made this particularly delicate: that was the opinion held and stated publicly by the relatives of Commander Ernesto Guevara in Argentina. We hope they will understand that however painful it may be to have to make this statement, there is no lack of courtesy—much less lack of consideration—intended toward them.
I was telling you that we had reached this conclusion. We had not reached it on the basis of isolated facts, isolated words, or isolated photographs. A photograph can be doctored. But these were not photographs distributed by the government. These were photographs taken by a number of journalists right there in Bolivia, at the very spot where the body was. So there was no possibility of a doctored photograph; the thesis of a doctored photograph could not be accepted.
There were other hypotheses, for example a fabricated wax figure. This would be highly improbable, and it would not be easy.
This was all analyzed independently of all the other factors to be examined, and it turned out to be absolutely impossible. All this had to be analyzed in relation to a whole series of elements, news reports that had been appearing, and all the other factors.
We found, for example, that this is Che’s handwriting. It is undeniably his handwriting, which seems to us to be very difficult to imitate. But even if it were possible or easy to imitate someone’s handwriting, above all of someone with a personality as distinctive as Che’s, it would be absolutely impossible to imitate his style. And it would be even more impossible for anybody—except those who knew him extremely well, who had lived with him for many years—to be in a position to evaluate his every sentence, his style of writing, his way of expressing things, his reaction to each detail, to each thing. And, finally, a whole series of characteristics not only related to his handwriting but to the content, the style, the reactions. All that is absolutely impossible to imitate.
Naturally a diary does not prove the death of a combatant. A diary can be lost on a road, it can fall from a backpack or can be left somewhere for safekeeping. This diary, however, was kept right up until October 7, the eve of the battle in which he was supposed to have been killed. That is, it contains things written up to just a few hours before the battle. It is unquestionable, therefore, that if the diary had been lost, it would have been lost approximately October 8, that is, the very day of the battle.
There is another series of elements to be considered. Different photographs of Che’s presence in Bolivia had been coming in, published in various newspapers around the world. Some newspapers published this photo [shows photograph], which shows him with a bulky backpack, the way he was accustomed to loading them, and with an M-2 rifle. Here is another photograph in which you can see him on a mule [shows photograph], and this is undeniably Che’s erect stance. Probably at that moment he was joking about something with the person taking the photo. And, it would appear, some of these photographs were somehow seized by the enemy. In other words, there were all the indications, and it was generally accepted, that he was in Bolivia.
Another series of facts pointed to a strong pursuit of the guerrillas in recent weeks in Bolivia, involving a large number of troops. Among these troops were units specially trained by agents of imperialism in antiguerrilla struggle.
These are some factors that should be analyzed a little to get an idea of things, of how Che’s death came about.
In our opinion, the diary is absolutely authentic and the photos are also absolutely authentic. It seems to us absolutely impossible in every way, technically impossible, to fabricate all this. And, analyzing all the factors, all the details, all aspects—the diary, the photographs, the news dispatches, the way the news dispatches emerged, a whole series of facts—we concluded it was technically impossible to fabricate those proofs.
But let’s probe a little deeper. There are so many contradictions within the Bolivian regime, so many rivalries, so many problems, that it would be absolutely impossible for those within this regime to reach agreement even to tell a lie. They can tell some lie, hand out some news release, report that something happened, that some guerrillas were killed where the bodies don’t show up later. Reactionary governments are in the habit of giving out such news, and it has no great significance. That is one thing to consider.
Secondly, from the technical standpoint, they would need resources and experience that do not exist there.
Thirdly—and this is the most obvious—why should that regime fabricate such news? What sense would it make to fabricate a report that would be exposed as a lie within 10, 15, or 20 days?
Besides, it seemed they were acting somewhat cautiously. Only 10 or 12 days beforehand they had issued a similar report, but they held to it for only a few hours. A few hours later, the next day, they quickly denied it. But this latest news report began to circulate very persistently, and they refrained from issuing a categorical statement. The first rumors came from various sources, from journalists. Apparently they were trying to obtain evidence that would enable them to issue an official statement without fear of a mistake. We noted all these things.
We already have some experience in interpreting news dispatches. We all read many dispatches every day, and we have some experience in evaluating the style and characteristics of every government, the personalities of those in the government. All those things, all those factors, helped us evaluate this news item. They seemed to be acting cautiously.
Not even the most imbecilic, the most idiotic of all governments—and there is no doubt the government of Bolivia is characterized by its imbecility and idiocy—would have resorted to such a senseless, stupid, impossible-to-invent thing as this, and then attempt to prove it. It would be completely senseless.
There is no doubt that the guerrilla movement in Bolivia is in a phase in which the survival of the guerrillas depends, fundamentally, on their own abilities; it depends on their own resources, let us say. That is, it is not a movement that has reached the point where a crisis is imminent, where a lie by the government would gain it a week, or eight or 10 days. That was not the situation.
The guerrillas are in a period—a period we know only too well—in which they rely fundamentally on their own forces. And when guerrilla fighters hear such news reports, they laugh when they are false. Therefore, news reports have no effect on the guerrillas, while, on the contrary, they have an effect, an almost immediate effect, on the meager prestige and meager credibility some of these governments have.
I am reasoning this out in order for us to understand that it would be absolutely illogical for anyone to try to invent such news. I am doing this to consider what would be the motives to invent such news. There is no possible motive.
And the way the diary reads, the contents of the diary, the area spoken of in the diary, the photographs, photographs that were not issued by the government but which were taken by journalists—a whole series of specific features enables us to conclude with absolute certainty that the news is the bitter truth.
Logically, the natural tendency of any person faced with bad news about someone for whom he feels great affection is to reject it. To a great degree, that is what happened to us at first. In the mind of the people, in the mind of revolutionaries all over the world, there is a tendency to reject this kind of news.
In addition, that government’s meager credibility, its absolute lack of prestige, helped cast doubt on the news, on top of the emotional circumstances that lead to an instinctive rejection of news of this sort.
This government is so discredited that even many of its allies—among them US imperialism itself—many of the governments that are similar to the government of Bolivia, read the news initially and said they were not sure, that they did not believe it, and adopted a very cautious attitude. Later, naturally, they began to adopt a different attitude when they had in hand evidence that gave them some assurance of the news. But until they had that evidence, it may be said that almost universally they refrained from giving credence to the news coming from Bolivia.
But the discussion going on right now and the doubts that may remain—at least the doubts we have—are not connected with the fact of death itself but rather with the way he died, the circumstances that led up to it.
Those of us who know Ernesto Guevara very well—and I say know, because you really can’t speak about Ernesto Guevara in the past tense—have had abundant experience with his character and temperament. However difficult it is to imagine a person of his stature, of his prestige, of his personality being killed in combat between a guerrilla patrol and an army force—however illogical that might seem—there is nothing extraordinary about it. For as long as we have known him, he has always been characterized by an extraordinary courage, by an absolute contempt for danger, and by a willingness, in every difficult and dangerous moment, to undertake the most difficult and dangerous tasks. That is what he did on many occasions during the course of our struggle. That is how he acted in the Sierra Maestra and in Las Villas.
Many times we had to take steps of one kind or another to protect him. On more than one occasion we had to oppose some action he wanted to undertake. And as we came to appreciate what a magnificent combatant he was, as we came to see the possibility that he might serve the revolution in tasks or missions of the greatest strategic importance, we tried above all to protect him from the risk of being killed in some battle of little strategic importance. That’s more or less how the moment came in which he was made commander of one of the invading columns, charged with carrying out the exceptionally difficult task of invading Las Villas province, a singular feat. Those who knew him then know the way he conducted himself in many actions.
And we must say that we were always worried about the possibility that this temperament, this ever-present attitude of his in moments of danger, could lead to his death in virtually any battle. No one could ever be sure he would adopt even minimal measures of caution. Many times he went out at the head of scouting patrols.
On the other hand, he was highly conscious of the importance of the mission he had taken on. And it is possible that he was thinking, as he always did, of the relative value of humans and the incomparable value of example. This was part of his personality.
We would have liked more than anything to have seen him become a creator—rather than a precursor—of great victories of the peoples. But a person of that type of temperament, personality, and character, of that way of consistently reacting to specific circumstances, is unfortunately more likely to be a precursor than a creator of such victories. Yet the precursors are also obviously creators of victories—the greatest creators of victories!
Che would be the one least upset by this. But for all of us who have come to hold a deep affection for him, it is understandably difficult to resign ourselves to seeing him become a precursor, an example whose impact we have no doubt will be very great. Any human being would understandably grieve when a character, a mind, and an integrity such as his is physically destroyed.
It is not my intention at the moment to express my ideas, opinions, and feelings about Ernesto Guevara. In today’s broadcast I am explaining these things simply as part of analyzing the news dispatches we are receiving. But as I said, absolutely no one should be surprised that he would be one of the first to fall in a battle involving a guerrilla detachment. It would almost take a miracle, it would almost be impossible for it to have been otherwise. He confronted danger many times and on many occasions, and in these situations a sort of mathematical law operates. It wasn’t something we thought would never happen, and we have been evaluating all the circumstances accordingly.
So, what is the background surrounding that moment, what are the circumstances that could have caused the battle that the enemy carried out in the midst of a large-scale mobilization, in the midst of a great deployment of forces against him?
Here, for example, we have some facts that perhaps can explain those circumstances that are part of that background. We cannot in any way make a categorical statement about these questions when the only information by which we can judge is what we have been able to collect, select, and analyze from the waves of news items, from a veritable sea of dispatches. But there is, for example, a dispatch here dated September 29:
A high-ranking military source confirmed today that the Bolivian army is firmly convinced it has the Argentine-Cuban revolutionary Ernesto Che Guevara encircled in a jungle canyon some 128 kilometers from here.
The source declined to give further details. But his revelation to the Associated Press (AP) at noon today is supported by the fact that troops in battle gear have been dispatched in the last few days to the densely wooded area, apparently to engage in an important action.
Another 800 troops, specially equipped for jungle operations, left the city of Santa Cruz early this week for the same zone.
This city, where the trial of Régis Debray is being held, is headquarters for the fourth army division, while Santa Cruz is the headquarters of the eighth division.
One contingent of troops left Camiri on Wednesday and another left last night. One more is scheduled to leave this afternoon.
According to a reliable military source, at least 1,500 troops are taking part in the man-hunt for Guevara.
“We have very good information that Guevara is alive, and we are more than convinced that he is surrounded,” said the source, who refused to give details as to the basis for this belief. According to this source, the army has surrounded the communist guerrillas in a small valley between two hills of unspecified size.
This information could not be confirmed.
The two outlets of the valley, which is a sort of gorge, are occupied by Bolivian army troops specializing in jungle warfare. Many of them have been trained by US instructors, some of whom served in Vietnam.
It was pointed out that the flanks and bottom of the valley are covered with dense growth, but the high parts are free of obstacles, impeding undetected flight.
“Army patrols exploring the jungle established positive contact at the beginning of this week,” said the source.
On September 29 they began to speak of a typical region, and of a wooded valley, a kind of gorge, between hills, or between elevations totally lacking in vegetation, where it was necessary to move in one direction or the other—that is, toward one exit or the other—without being able to leave the area because that would require moving over terrain absolutely lacking in vegetation.
This dispatch is especially interesting because it begins to speak of the territory that appears in almost all the other dispatches. But what circumstances gave them the absolute assurance that they would find a guerrilla force directly commanded by Commander Ernesto Guevara in that territory?
Here is a news item that speaks of a deserter from the guerrillas. This news appeared on September 30, in another dispatch:
The Castro-communist revolutionary leader Ernesto Che Guevara is gravely ill and is being carried on a stretcher by other guerrillas, under heavy guard, according to news dispatches released today in this oil center.
This information is attributed to the Bolivian former guerrilla Antonio Rodríguez Flores, who voluntarily surrendered to the armed forces camped on the Río Grande, in response to the official offer to guarantee the lives of those who abandon armed subversion against the government.
A desertion took place some time between September 25 and September 30—and a deserter always has the same attitude. A deserter offers the enemy all the information that can be of interest to the enemy, and offers it immediately, without scruples and without concern of any kind, because a deserter is above all a demoralized revolutionary, or a pseudorevolutionary who wanted to play at revolution. And it is indisputable that if a desertion occurs among the guerrillas—and during our revolutionary war there were many cases of desertion—this is nothing out of the ordinary.
There is a period in which many people want to join a guerrilla struggle and come to the guerrilla camps in great number; in fact, there are more who want to join than there are weapons. Among those who come to join there are many who later play brilliant roles, who are magnificent soldiers, magnificent revolutionaries. Our guerrilla army never had a recruiting office or anything even similar. Our problem was the number of those who came to join us and for whom we did not have weapons. But more than 95 percent of the combatants in our Rebel Army came on their own accord; others were sent to us in an organized manner, only a few. Our army was made up of those who came and joined.
But, of course, some who were inspired to join had no prior experience and no clear idea of the sacrifices involved in the guerrilla struggle. And when they had to walk a lot, climb mountains, and face difficulties, they would take advantage of an opportunity to leave the detachment in a cowardly way. And a deserter is always a traitor. If he falls into the enemy’s hands he immediately informs about everything, and he can give a full report on all the details involving the guerrilla detachment.
The dispatch speaks of illness. This must be taken to mean there may have been some temporary problem Che could have had.
In the part of the diary that has been published, in the photocopies of the diary, the entry for September 1 states, “We dismounted early from the mules after a few incidents, including a spectacular fall by one of them. The doctor has not yet recovered, but I have, and am walking perfectly, leading the mule.” And he continues describing some other things.
That is, on September 1 he tells of how he has recovered and feels perfectly fine. And in the diary entries for the two days before his death, he talks like a person in perfect health. In other words, it was not true he was ill at the time.
But naturally a deserter could have described a previous illness, anything. Above all, the enemy was probably far more interested in pinpointing the exact location of the region or area where the guerrilla force was to be found. That explains why there was such a large mobilization of forces on September 29.
The news about the deserter was published September 30. It is possible that he had already been in the hands of the enemy forces for three or four days, and of course those forces immediately began to carry out a series of troop movements. Any repressive army mobilizes its forces when it sees an opportunity at hand; of course, most of the time such troop movements are an empty, useless effort. But it is unquestionable that they had high hopes, since they had the exact region where the guerrilla forces were located. They began to carry out a series of large-scale troop movements, with high hopes of winning a tactical victory there against the guerrillas.
Then there is the curious New York Times article written on October 7—that is, on the eve of the battle—and published in the edition of Sunday, October 8—that is, on the morning of the day of the battle—headlined “Che Guevara’s Last Stand?” It says:
Camiri, Bolivia. Even for a man as traveled as Ernesto Che Guevara, the bleak cul-de-sac where the Andes fall away to the Amazon basin is a long way from anywhere.
The sun rises blazing each morning on the dusty valley, baking the raw earth and the brown brambles. The teeming insect life—monstrous flies and mosquitoes, spiders, and stinging beetles—swarm in the dead stillness…
The article goes on to give something of a description of the region. It says:
The heat and the dust and the bites turn the skins of humans into cloaks of misery. The harsh vegetation, dry and covered with thorns, makes sustained movement all but impossible except along the well-watched river banks and trails.
According to military reports, the erstwhile Cuban major and 16 exhausted guerrilla companions have been bottled up in the valley by a tightening armed forces encirclement for nearly two weeks. The Bolivian military believes Major Guevara will not get out alive.
In many ways, the situation of Major Guevara… and his companions in their infernal canyon 120 miles northwest of the military post of Camiri serve as a metaphor for armed revolution in the hemisphere.
And so on and so forth. In other words, the content of the September 29 dispatch—which speaks of troop movements that were perfectly explained by the news of a desertion, published September 30—is repeated by representatives of the foreign press who have close ties with the military command, and who speak insistently about the valley, the jungle-lined gorge, with areas lacking in cover.
That is, there is an air of hopeful anticipation—but this does not mean that the anticipated result will necessarily occur. Without having an idea of the terrain, without having an idea of the size of the valley, its width, its length, a whole series of circumstances, it is impossible to judge what real objective basis they could have had for harboring such hopes, since in general it is always said of guerrillas that they are surrounded.
For example, they always said they had us surrounded, which was true. We had the sea to our backs, the plains and rice fields in front of us, and for a considerable period of time our actions were conducted within a territory no more than 10 kilometers wide and some 20 kilometers long, with occasional incursions to places a little more distant. Throughout 1957 and until the middle of 1958, every offensive against us—including the last one, which involved an extremely large number of troops—took place in that 10-by-20-kilometer piece of territory. It was a territory that we knew very well, and at the time we had some 300 men.
But, generally speaking, the guerrilla unit is always seen as being surrounded; strategically, the guerrilla is surrounded by various military forces. More dangerous is tactical encirclement, that is, a guerrilla unit that is completely encircled by a cordon of enemy soldiers. But even in these situations, the cordons are broken through in a majority of cases. For that reason, no opinion can be given regarding the degree of danger involved in their location within the valley that is talked about, or in the region that is talked about.
But everything seems to indicate—because later they speak again of that region, and a certain persistence about this can be noted in all the wire service dispatches—that they pinned their hopes on one particular region, and carried out a large-scale mobilization of forces. This does not necessarily mean that a clash had to take place, or that no withdrawal or maneuver was open to the guerrillas, but it explains the circumstances and the mobilization of forces preceding the battle.
This means that almost two full weeks before the battle, there was already a certain euphoria and a whole series of troop movements headed toward that region. What exactly is the region like? We do not know. What other regions or what natural obstacles mark it off? We do not know. Whether there were broad plains barren of vegetation, or a river, or insurmountable hills, we do not know. But what is clear is that troops were sent to a given region that, thanks to information from a deserter, had been more or less pinpointed as the location of the guerrilla forces.
Then come the dispatches, various dispatches, telling of a battle taking place in a region they say is characterized by rugged terrain, by terrain where it is difficult to move, a dense jungle at the foot of a valley, deep ravines, gorges, canyons.
The diary entries of October 6 and 7 tell of such an area. For example, the entry for October 6 says, “Scouting patrols discovered a house nearby…” Some parts of the photocopy simply cannot be deciphered. Che’s handwriting is small and not easy to read, and on top of that the photocopy has come out a little blurred.
The diary says, “…ravines farther away where there was water, we…”—something that we couldn’t make out—”…and we cooked all…”—a line missing—”under a rock overhang that served as a roof… that I…”
It says, “In broad daylight we had passed close to places… and were in a hole.” And again there are missing lines here.
It says, “Because preparing the food took so long, we decided to leave at dawn for a tributary near this little creek, and from there to scout the area… to determine our future route.”
It continues: “The Cruz del Sur radio reported in an interview… The men, this time Orlando was a little less…” perhaps it says discreet. He is referring to another Bolivian who, it was first reported, gave himself up to the authorities. Later it was said that he was taken prisoner. There is something here that is not very clear, not as clear as in the other case.
It continues, “The Chilean radio carried a news item… to the effect that there are some 1,800 troops in the area.”
The entry for October 7 says, “Today marks the completion of 11 months of guerrilla operations without complications.” This “11 months of guerrilla operations without complications” indicates that the strategic situation of his forces, in his judgment, was not a difficult one. This is something to take into consideration—the fact that Che did not think it was a critical situation.
The diary says, “Up to 12:30, when an old woman, tending goats, entered the canyon where we were camped, and we had to take her prisoner. She gave us no reliable information about the soldiers, simply repeating that she knew nothing, that it had been quite a while since she had last been in the area. She gave us information only about the roads. From what the old woman told us, we are now about one league [about 3.5 miles] from Higuera, another from Jagüey, and a few more from Pucará. At 17:30…”—here he gives a name—“Aniceto and… went to the old lady’s house. One of her daughters is bedridden. They gave her 50 pesos and asked her to keep quiet, but they held out little hope she would do so despite her promises. The 17 of us set out under a slither of a moon. The march was exhausting, and we left tracks in the canyon we walked through. There were no nearby houses, just a few potato patches irrigated by ditches leading from the stream. Between two paramos”—it seems to say; paramos seem to be those hills bare of vegetation—“…so we continued to advance in that direction.”
Some things here cannot be well understood. The diary says, “The army has information to the effect that there are 250 revolutionaries.” And here the page ends.
So he speaks of an area exactly like, or very similar to, that described earlier, which has to be crossed at night. And he gives the impression it is some kind of wooded valley bounded by rocky hills, bare of vegetation. That is the last thing he writes. It must have been almost dawn, because he says, “17 of us, under a slither of a moon. The march was exhausting, and we left tracks…”
We have tried to decipher all this. Sometimes there are words that almost have to be guessed at in order to make out the meaning.
The diary refers to an area very similar to the one described in the wire service dispatch of September 29 and in the New York Times article of October 8. Later there were many dispatches, and all of them always referred to a similar area.
On September 29, they talked about only one valley. Here they talk of several valleys, separated by hills, hills that are bare of vegetation, that are difficult to cross. They would either have had to make their way through the canyons or come out onto the higher ground, where it was impossible to move without being seen.
The guerrillas were apparently in a new area. This is made clear in the same entry, the same diary note of October 7, which indicates they had basically been exploring the terrain. Che is there with 16 other men, because he says “we left, 17 of us” and scouted the area. And he says, “we are now one league from here, two from here, six from there.” They were trying to determine their exact location, they said, in order to determine what direction to set out in.
There is quite a consistency in how the earlier reports, the later reports, and the contents of the diary all more or less explain the circumstances in the same way: the existence of a deserter, accurate information on how many men were with him, and the place where he was located.
And there was the fact that they were in a new area. Any guerrilla unit scouting the terrain, any unit of troops in an area—even when it has information, detailed maps for example, even when it has aerial photographs, everything—can only really get to know a specific area on the ground. In fact, a guerrilla detachment scouting a wide area can wind up in an area like this one, an isolated area, a relatively isolated area, through going scouting. It may advance through mountains and suddenly reach a point where even the areas of vegetation, or the area of territory suited for guerrilla warfare, disappear, and it then becomes necessary to return to another area and continue scouting. This is one of the things we did in the Sierra Maestra in the beginning. We would send out scouting patrols to get to know a certain territory, until we were finally perfectly acquainted with it.
We don’t know whether the territory was really isolated, whether the territory where they were at the time could be cut off. We don’t know whether it was made up of a valley or a series of valleys that could be entered or left here or there and was surrounded by areas that could not be crossed, by large stretches that could not be crossed in a night’s journey. To know if the enemy’s hopes were well-founded, we would have to have information about the territory. But many times repressive armies entertain hopes of this type, and most of the time they are not well-founded. So we can say that even though a battle did take place, this was not necessarily the only possible outcome.
Clearly there were large-scale troop movements, and these troops moved in a direction determined by information they had. The territory they were in raised the hopes of the repressive forces because of an accidental encounter between the guerrilla forces and the repressive forces. If an accidental encounter took place, then the possibilities that Che might be killed increased, because of those traits of his that I explained earlier.
It is clear that neither the guerrilla forces nor the repressive forces fell into an ambush. It is clear that a clash took place. And according to all indications it is clear that when this clash took place, Che carried out some sort of action. All the indications, all that is said, point to some action such as moving forward to see, or moving forward to fire, or even moving away from the place—perhaps a few steps, a few meters—from where the rest of the combatants were. That is, everything seems to indicate that he carried out one of his characteristic actions, and it appears that he was seriously wounded very early and remained in a kind of “no man’s land.” It is also clear that his comrades, probably seeing him wounded, seeing he was in danger, and inflamed by that fact, fought a prolonged battle that went far beyond any battle that a guerrilla detachment would fight under normal conditions. That battle lasted four hours, according to some, and five or six hours according to others.
A guerrilla unit generally does not fight a battle of this type, since the enemy is always superior in numbers. If the enemy is given time, it may be able to surround the guerrillas. Only a guerrilla detachment inflamed under circumstances such as these would fight a battle of four, five, or six hours. Among other reasons, the ammunition of a guerrilla detachment tends to run out in a battle of that length. This is another factor that we evaluated and took into consideration.
When you read a news dispatch, anyone who has guerrilla experience knows what happened. You know what happens when a repressive force falls into an ambush. This is unmistakable. Generally the repressive force that falls into an ambush loses its advance guard and loses many men. It may or may not also lose weapons; that depends on the number of guerrillas and on other circumstances.
In the same way, when a guerrilla force falls into an ambush by repressive forces, since the guerrilla force is always numerically smaller, in general it cannot inflict casualties on the ambushers. This is simply a law of warfare.
If that’s the case, if in this instance there was no ambush on either side, if it was a clear-cut matter and really a prolonged battle, it is evident that something unusual happened.
And the fact that the military reports spoke of so many soldiers wounded and killed, of 10 casualties, while also stating the number of casualties of the guerrillas—first said to be five—was rather strange and something to be concerned about. In the initial reports it was stated that Che was among the first to be wounded and that he was in a “no man’s land.” These are the only circumstances that would make a guerrilla unit carry out a prolonged battle, one lasting from one in the afternoon until nightfall—the only circumstances! And this aspect was something to be concerned about; because, in general, one or the other group falls into an ambush, and the characteristics of the situation are quite clear. But a guerrilla unit never wages a battle for five or six hours against troops that are numerically superior, have more ammunition, and in fact enjoy a whole series of advantages, including the ability to surround the guerrillas.
Anyone with experience in guerrilla warfare knows that this battle was not an ambush by one side or the other, that it was not the type of battle characteristic of guerrilla warfare. And it is obvious that the abnormal circumstance in this case was the fact that Che was wounded. His comrades made a superhuman, desperate effort, risking everything. They kept fighting, inflicting 10 casualties on the enemy—according to the enemy’s own account—and perhaps even more.
This is part of what I referred to before as the set of facts, circumstances, and other things that helped us form a judgment about the situation.
The question that is being debated—as I said at the beginning—is what happened afterwards. The question is whether Che died instantly or was seriously wounded and, after some hours, taken alive by the repressive forces. This is the question most under debate.
Naturally, all of us who know Che understand that there was no way possible of capturing him alive unless he was unconscious, unless he was totally paralyzed by his wounds, unless his weapon had been destroyed and therefore had no way to avoid falling prisoner by killing himself. No one who knows him well has the slightest doubts about that.
There is something more. The enemy itself, the officers of the enemy force themselves—all are unanimous in attesting to Che’s extraordinary courage, his conduct and his scorn for danger. There has not been a single word that would attempt to deny him these characteristics. It is therefore difficult to believe that they could have captured him—although it would not have been impossible, especially in the situation he was in, wounded in “no man’s land,” unable to move, possibly unconscious. It is by no means impossible for them to have captured him while he was still alive.
And it is on this point that a lot of tremendous confusions and contradictions have arisen, which perhaps explain the attitudes displayed and the events that happened afterward. I did not bring all the dispatches with me, because they make quite a bundle. But from the very beginning, when there was not a single official report, the rumors started—rumors picked up by the reporters—that Che was either dead or wounded, or that he had been captured after being wounded. The very first reports received spoke mainly of him as a wounded prisoner.
Later, official statements began to be made. On October 10, for example, a wire service dispatch reported:
High-ranking officers of the Bolivian army declared that it had been fully confirmed that the Argentine-Cuban guerrilla leader met his death in Bolivia yesterday after being seriously wounded the day before.
General Alfredo Ovando, chief of the armed forces, reported that Che had identified himself and had admitted failure with the Bolivian guerrillas, who General Ovando said had been virtually wiped out.
Nobody believed the part about Che having said such a thing. Even though we are thoroughly aware of his extraordinary frankness and invariable honesty, we must say that if he were able to speak under such circumstances, he would never say anything pleasing to the enemy. In fact, whatever the circumstances he would calmly say whatever would displease the enemy the most.
But the problem is that this gentleman stated that Che died the following day as a result of his wounds. That is what he said. High officials confirmed the same version of events. Then the chief of the army division operating in the area comes on the scene and says that “the battle took place in a canyon called El Yuro, where the soldiers fought bravely, almost hand-to-hand, at a distance of no more than 50 meters.”
Zenteno added that “Guevara was found alive but seriously wounded, in a deep pass.”
“Asked if Guevara said anything to his captors, Zenteno contradicted Ovando’s statement by responding that Guevara never had time to say anything.”
Ovando says Che was captured alive, seriously wounded. Another official says the same thing. But Ovando says Che told him who he was and that he had failed. The other official says Che said nothing, not even a word.
Of course, a few days later this same gentleman declared—once his contradiction with his chief had become evident, it seems—that yes, Che was alive and had said the same things Ovando claims he said. But both of them declare that Che was alive.
Naturally, it seem senseless to claim Che said such a thing, because nothing else they say is even remotely detrimental to him. They themselves acknowledge his integrity, his courage, everything about him.
Che might just as easily have said, “My name is this, that, or the other.” That would have been in keeping with his character. What could he have said, and what did that gentleman hear?
But both of them agree Che was alive. And these statements take on further importance when we take into consideration a whole series of later events. This is when the version emerges that he was captured when he was seriously wounded but still alive, and that he was then finished off—that is, he was shot to death. In other words, not the slightest effort was made to take care of his wounds, no effort whatsoever was made to save his life. There is not the slightest evidence that he received any treatment, but there are many indications that what they actually did was to kill him. And this in spite of the fact that earlier reports always mentioned how Bolivian soldiers wounded in combat had been taken care of by the revolutionaries and then released. Of course, what else can you expect from a mercenary army, from mercenary officers, from a mercenary government?
No one can give assurance that Che would have been able to survive his wounds, because the wounds must have been very serious. No one can say that he would have survived. But what is undeniable is that they made not the slightest effort to save him. It seems what they did was to kill him.
How did all these contradictions come about? A whole lot of things have now become clear, because the doctors, as well as soldiers wounded in the battle, have begun to make statements. Here, for example, is a wire service dispatch we received yesterday. It says:
Dr. Martínez Caso, one of the two physicians to see the body upon its arrival in Vallegrande, was interviewed there. He was asked if an autopsy had been performed. “No, we made only a simple examination. Death must have occurred about five hours earlier, because the body was still warm,” the physician answered.
This means that if the body arrived at the hospital in Vallegrande around 5 p.m., October 9, death must have occurred around noon the same day.
The physician added that the body showed bullet wounds, five of them in the legs, one in the throat, and the other one in the chest, below the left breast. This bullet pierced the heart and lung. “This is the fatal wound,” the doctor added.
When the body was turned over to him he was told it was probably the body of an important person. This opinion was based on the perfect condition of the feet, which left the impression that the man was not accustomed to walking too much.
So the body was delivered to the doctor and he discovered that death had occurred only a few hours earlier, that there was no sign of rigor mortis. And the fact remains that Ovando, the high-ranking officers, Colonel Zenteno, everybody says that when they captured him, he was still alive. And the doctors say—and everybody who knows a little bit about medicine agrees—that nobody can live more than a few minutes with their heart pierced by a bullet. This is when all the suspicions began to emerge.
Here is a dispatch from Interpress that reads:
La Paz. A spectacular change seems to have come over the investigations made by observers into the circumstances surrounding the death of Ernesto Che Guevara in a battle last Sunday, since José Martínez, a Bolivian physician who examined the body of the Argentine revolutionary Monday afternoon, stated that death had occurred only five hours before.
This confirmation strengthens the opinions consistently expressed by well-known journalists present in the army’s antiguerrilla center of operations that Guevara was given a coup de grace after he was captured alive, together with two other guerrillas. Several official spokesmen share the same doubts as to how the principal organizer of the insurrectional movement died.
To this may be added a new version, issued recently by a top, confidential military source, which says that Guevara’s death was not caused by the wounds received in battle against the army in the El Yuro ravine. The guerrilla leader died at 1:15 p.m. in La Higuera, where he had been taken before the battle had ended.
According to the same military source, Che had been wounded in the legs.
This is followed by a sentence whose meaning we can only guess at because it is mutilated. It says, “But when a bullet put his rifle out of commission…”
That is, it seems this dispatch suggests that after being wounded, Che kept on fighting, firing his rifle until it was put out of commission. That is possible. There is nothing extraordinary about him fighting against the enemy while wounded. And many combatants have had their rifle destroyed in battle.
The dispatch continues:
But when a bullet destroyed his M-2 rifle that had been adapted for use as a submachine gun, he was taken prisoner along with two other guerrillas who were apparently also wounded. When interrogated on Monday, Guevara did not answer a single question.
If something like this happened, those of us who know Che well are aware that this is the only attitude he would adopt.
And it says, “…he did not answer a single question, looking indifferently at his captors.” It continues, “The other two guerrillas were also killed that same day at La Higuera.”
That is, this news agency gives the version of how he was wounded, how he continued fighting while wounded. That is what it leads one to believe.
Here is another dispatch: “Dr. José Martínez Caso stated during an interview that one of the fatal shots was lodged in the heart and another in the lungs, but that when he examined the body…” That is, the same news. Then this news agency says, “Martínez’s statement coincides with those of four wounded soldiers…”
Ah. Here it says that, according to the doctor, the soldiers told him that when Guevara saw them he advanced toward them and was hit.
It continues, “Martínez’s statement coincides with those of four wounded soldiers who took part in the battle. The four said that they saw Guevara alive after the battle.” One of them, named Taboada, said he was near Che when Che was hit, saying explicitly that “Guevara was wounded in battle and that he was still alive then.”
So there have been a series of statements that repeatedly coincide with the first version, which tells of Che being taken prisoner after being seriously wounded.
For him to be wounded while advancing on the soldiers would be something natural for him. And for him to continue fighting despite being wounded would also be characteristic of him. While he still had a breath of life, he could be captured only if he were unconscious, or if his weapon were destroyed, or if he couldn’t move because of a serious wound. For them to question him and for him to look back at them with absolute indifference—more than indifference, complete scorn for his captors—all that is consistent with his personality, as would be his having died in battle.
The most important thing is not whether he died in battle or was finished off later, after having been seriously wounded in battle. In itself, that is not the most important thing. What is important is the certainty that he had received fatal, or nearly fatal wounds that undoubtedly led, in one way or another, to his death.
But a serious controversy has arisen around this point, and this explains in part, but only in part, what was later done with his body.
Then comes a series of dispatches.
One on October 11 says, “The president of the republic, General René Barrientos, told United Press International (UPI) tonight that the remains of Ernesto Che Guevara, buried last night in a secret spot in the Bolivian Andes, will not be brought to La Paz, or be exhibited again.”
“One of the stupid things that I said,” added the head of state, “is that the body would remain in Bolivia.”
It seems—according to a dispatch from Bolivia—that Che, in one of the entries in his diary, said that Barrientos is stupid. So that gentleman, alluding to that part of the diary, says that one of the stupid things he said was the matter referred to above.
So on October 11 the claim is made that the body was buried in a secret place. The next day, October 12, a dispatch stated the following:
Journalists who say they have interviewed Roberto Guevara, Ernesto’s brother, reported him to have said that General Alfredo Ovando, commander-in-chief of the armed forces, told him that the body of the Cuban-Argentine revolutionary had been cremated today.
That version was challenged tonight by official government sources.
“President René Barrientos knew absolutely nothing of this until at least 5 p.m. today,” stated a high official in the Foreign Ministry.
“We would be greatly surprised if that were true,” added the source, “because it would have to have been a last-minute decision made by the armed forces, without notifying the president himself, which is difficult to believe.”
Then all the dispatches began to arrive indicating that Che had been buried, that the body had been exhumed, that it had been cremated, that they had cut off one of his hands, or a finger—a whole series of dispatches, both macabre and contradictory.
One can easily imagine that they would want to conceal proof that Che was killed while in custody. They were worried that a careful examination of all the details would reveal that a coup de grace had been administered.
But in my opinion there is something they give even more weight to, which is what is behind all these strange things. And that something is their fear of Che even after his death. Not only were they afraid of him while he was alive, but even after his death they are still afraid, even more afraid. This is an idea they themselves began to promote when they removed Che’s remains so the area could not become a shrine.
They know instinctively that they are condemned by history. And they know it was a mere stroke of luck that they could physically eliminate Che. So it is logical that they would be afraid that Che’s remains, or the site where they are buried, would become a shrine now or at some time in the future. They wish to deprive the revolutionary movement of even a symbol, a site, a spot. In a nutshell, they fear Che even after his death.
In my opinion, the key factor in their behavior is not their concern to conceal whether or not they fired the final shot. The key factor is really their desire to get rid of Che’s remains. They are afraid that his family might claim the body, that it might be buried at a specific site and become—as they might call it—a shrine, a revered spot for revolutionaries. That, in my opinion, is the real reason behind all this.
These are more or less our impressions of how events occurred, our evaluation of the news items, of the whole series of strange and contradictory events after Che’s death.
We considered it our duty to discuss this information, to express this conviction, regardless of whether a state of uncertainty might be useful to the revolutionary movement. We considered it a moral question, a question of principle, a duty to the people, a duty to revolutionaries everywhere. In our opinion, the only one to benefit from indefinitely maintaining uncertainty and doubt, from maintaining false hopes among the masses, would be imperialism.
We are not about to believe that the imperialist puppets in Bolivia, who are vying to be seen as the vanguard lackeys of imperialism, want us to doubt their news. It is clear that the imperialist puppets in Bolivia want the news to be believed, because it has to do with their role, their part, their aspiration to be vanguard puppets.
But as for the imperialists, who are quite subtle, there should not be the slightest doubt that, after eliminating Che physically, they would like to diminish the impact of his conduct, his example, his consistent, heroic, and revolutionary attitude. They would like to weaken that example, that impact, by clouding it with mystery, with uncertainty, with illusory hope. They would like five years, 10 years, 15, or even 20 years to pass, with his example clouded by mystery, hovering between doubt and hope. Such hope is natural and understandable among all who find Che’s death particularly painful. It is understandable among all who sympathize with and admire him, among revolutionaries throughout the world.
Imperialism knows it has freed itself physically of Che. Its great aspiration now is to free itself of his spirit, to find some subtle way of dissolving his spirit into a vain, illusory hope—a hope that, while never fulfilled, could, on the other hand, feed speculation and stories reporting, “We saw him here” and “We saw him there.”
When a fabricated story relates things that can later be disproved, we are not worried. For a long time there were all sorts of suppositions and stories going around, all kinds of versions and interpretations of Che’s absence, a host of gross statements, indecent slanders. We were never seriously concerned about this. We knew the facts, the truth, would eventually come out, and all the mistaken theories and interpretations, whether put forward in good or bad faith, would be shattered. We were not concerned.
But we did have to concern ourselves about the possibility that a false hope might arise, with nothing concrete to contradict it. And that such a false hope—with the passage of years and surrounded by the deepest mystery—would only weaken the impact of one of the most extraordinary examples known to history of loyalty to revolutionary principles, of integrity, courage, generosity, and selflessness.
The facts will soon give lie to the imperialists’ triumphant boasts that Che’s death will discourage the revolutionary struggle. The imperialists, too, know the power, the tremendous power, of example. They know that while a person can be physically eliminated, an example such as Che’s can never be eliminated, by anything or anyone! They are understandably deeply concerned about this.
Newspapers of all tendencies and currents have universally recognized Che’s virtues. Only in an exceptional case, among hundreds of viewpoints expressed, does the vulgar opinion of some scoundrel crop up. For Che’s life had the virtue of impressing even his worst ideological enemies, causing them to admire him. It is an almost unique example of how a person can gain the recognition and respect of their enemies, of the very enemies they have faced, arms in hand; of their ideological enemies, who have in turn been almost unanimous in expressing feelings of admiration and respect for Che. It is understandable that this should worry imperialism.
Many people, including a number of political figures, have stated that Europe has been astounded at the impact of the news about Che, at the tremendous interest in it. It has been a kind of awakening to the realities of our times.
We sincerely believe and hold the opinion that the duty of telling the truth stands above all considerations of convenience—and that has been our attitude. We must tell revolutionaries our conviction, our absolute certainty, our evaluation of the news reports. Furthermore, we must issue this warning so that imperialism will not be able to make use of doubts to bring about inaction and uncertainty.
It is even possible that the fact that many revolutionaries were not convinced, or had doubts about the news, that may have kept them from speaking out. For no revolutionary—so long as there is hope of any kind—accepts news of this sort. And we know that revolutionaries have faith in the Cuban Revolution, that revolutionaries throughout the world have genuine faith in the word of the Cuban Revolution. We have come here once more to make good that faith, to demonstrate the justice in that faith in the absolute honesty of the revolution. No matter how bitter, how painful the circumstances—including those we mentioned, of doubts among close relatives—we cannot waver in fulfilling this duty.
What good would it do for revolutionaries to maintain false hopes? What would be gained by that? Aren’t revolutionaries the ones who must be prepared for whatever comes about, for all vicissitudes, including setbacks? Has the history of revolutions and revolutionary peoples been characterized by the absence of hard blows? Aren’t true revolutionaries the ones who overcome these blows, these setbacks, without becoming discouraged? Isn’t it precisely revolutionaries who preach the value of moral principles, the value of example? Aren’t revolutionaries the ones who believe in the lasting quality of the work of human beings, of the principles of human beings? Aren’t revolutionaries the first ones to acknowledge how ephemeral humanity’s physical existence is, and how long-lasting and durable humanity’s ideas, conduct, and example are—since example is what has inspired and guided peoples throughout history? This is always the way it has been. Harder blows, extremely hard blows were dealt to our revolution for independence with the death of Martí and with the death of Maceo. Such blows have been dealt to many revolutionary movements, and they always overcame these setbacks and blows, no matter how hard they were.
Who could deny what a blow Che’s death is to the revolutionary movement, how much it means to no longer be able to count on his experience, his inspiration, the strength of his reputation, which instilled fear into reactionaries? It is a fierce blow, a very hard one. But we are sure that he more than anyone was convinced that what is most important is not a person’s physical life but rather his conduct. This is the only way to explain and understand how Che’s absolute contempt for danger fits in with his personality and actions.
We must not lose time or allow the enemies of our ideology, the enemies of the revolution, to take the ideological offensive or to assume the psychological offensive in order to dishearten the revolutionary movement. Basing ourselves on the truth and recognition of the truth, and turning Che’s example into invincible strength, the revolutionary movement must go forward, firmer and more determined than ever.
I have carried out this bitter task. Perhaps it has not been an absolutely exhaustive analysis, but suffice it to say that analyzing everything, absolutely everything, we—all the leaders of the revolution, all of us who are intimately familiar with Che’s character—we have all, unanimously, and without the slightest doubt, come to this same conclusion I have expressed to you.
Today, the Council of Ministers met and adopted the following resolution:
Whereas: The heroic Commander Ernesto Guevara died fighting for the liberation of the peoples of Latin America at the head of the Bolivian National Liberation Army;
Whereas: The people of Cuba will always remember the extraordinary service rendered by Commander Ernesto Guevara, both in our war of liberation and in the consolidation and advancement of our revolution;
Whereas: His conduct embodies the spirit of internationalism that inspires the united struggle of the peoples;
Whereas: His untiring revolutionary activity, which knew no borders, his communist thinking, and his unshakable determination to fight until victory or death in defense of the national and social liberation of the people of Latin America and against imperialism, constitute an example of revolutionary conviction and heroism that will last forever;
It is resolved:
First, that for 30 days, beginning with the signing of this resolution, the national flag be flown at half mast; and that for three days, starting at midnight tonight, absolutely all public entertainment be suspended.
Second, that the day of Che’s heroic death in combat be declared a national memorial day, to that effect establishing October 8 as the Day of the Heroic Guerrilla.
Third, that as many activities be carried out as may be conducive to perpetuating Che’s life and his example in the memory of future generations.
At the same time, the Central Committee of our party has resolved:
First, to create a commission made up of Commanders Juan Almeida, Ramiro Valdés, Regalio Acevedo, and Alfonso Zayas, headed by the first of the aforementioned comrades, to orient and direct all activities aimed at perpetuating the memory of Commander Ernesto Guevara;
Second, to issue a call to the people to hold a solemn memorial gathering at the Revolution Plaza on Wednesday, October 18, at 8 p.m., to pay tribute to the unforgettable and heroic fighter who has died in combat.