Chapter 3
For some months before the downfall of President Machado, Sergeant Batista was a busy young man. He continued to act as court stenographer at the military trials of leaders of the Machado opposition and being a true revolutionary, Batista was disturbed by what he saw and heard in these kangaroo sessions. Sooner or later, he was sure, there would come a day of reckoning for the Machado regime.
Cuba, like most of the other nations of the world, suffered severe economic setbacks in the early nineteen-thirties. The price of sugar on the world market dropped to a point where the island's economy was almost bankrupt. Sergeant Batista had a personal economic problem in those days of depression and he had to struggle to earn sufficient income to keep his family clothed and fed. He handled a few real estate transactions and he became a small businessman-the owner of a fruit and vegetable stand. He took a part-time teaching assignment at a small academy in Havana and he earned extra income from tutoring the children of army officers. He also did some teaching of commercial subjects at the Milanés School. In spite of all those tasks, Batista joined the ABC Society, which had become one of the strongest and most militant of the new revolutionary societies, and devoted most of his spare time to the anti-Machado organization's activities. At first his contacts were confined to passing information and then he began actively to participate in the conspiracies against the Machado tyranny. He joined the ABC knowing that he might be shot were his superiors in the Army to find out about his membership in such a society. The ABC was a powerful organization. Its cellular construction was something new in Cuba and the underground was beaded by leading intellectuals of good reputations. But once the victory was won, once the downfall of Machado had been brought about, the ABC group lost its power and prestige. Had it carried on as a political party it might have contributed a great deal to post-Machado Cuba. Batista was a member of Branch Seven of the ABC, under the direction of a prominent revolutionary named Dr. Manuel Martí, when in August, 1933, the Céspedes "Government of Mediation" was set up in Cuba, with the help and influence of United States Ambassador Welles, to take over after Machado was forced out. It was an impotent government which lasted just twenty-two days, or until Batista pushed it out of power.
Batista did not believe the problems of Cuba were completely solved by the overthrow of Machado. He felt, as did many civilians, that the corrupt army officers who had supported Machado had to be kicked out too. He also knew that the Céspedes government lacked the strength needed to restore public order and that the whole purpose of the revolution would be lost unless something was done to overcome the chaotic conditions which followed the removal of the Machado regime. So be began to lay the groundwork for a movement which would be genuinely revolutionary, one which would take the power away from the discredited army officers who had done nothing to restore public order throughout the country. He worked among the noncommissioned officers and found supporters. Little by little, he gained adherents to his plan for revolt. The complete breakdown in public order, the national hysteria of the moment, impelled Batista to speed up his activities and be worked day and night. There was little time for sleep as the Sergeant moved from barracks to barracks, urging his fellow noncoms to rise with him to put an end to the awful situation which, if not corrected quickly, might destroy the Republic. Batista had no time to realize that in organizing the Revolt of the Sergeants he was preparing the most important revolution in the history of the Republic and, perhaps, the greatest event in the life of this unknown army Sergeant from the backwoods of Oriente Province.
There are as many versions of the incidents which led to the Revolt of the Sergeants as there are days in the week, but here is the accurate account of that great revolutionary movement, as related to me by Batista, the man who planned and directed the insurrection.
Prior to mid-August Batista had kept his revolutionary plans bidden. But on August 18, six days after the downfall of Machado, be made the first and only tactical error of his career as a revolutionary. He talked out loud, which is the worst thing a man in a revolution can do. It happened at a funeral and he attributes the slip-up to the emotional strain of the occasion. Batista and a fellow sergeant had gone to the funeral services for several victims of the Machado regime whose bodies had been recovered from their secret graves and moved to Colón Cemetery in Havana. Among the insurgent heroes whose remains were to receive high honors were those of army Sergeant Miguel Angel Hernández, Labor Leader Margarito Iglesias, and Student Félix Alpízar. These three revolutionaries, like many others, had disappeared during the underground campaign against the Machado dictatorship. Some were executed after quick trials before courts controlled by Machado and others died under the ley de fuga. Government announcements that students and revolutionary leaders had been "shot while trying to escape" became almost routine during the Machado reign of terror. Still others just "disappeared," and their bodies were interred in secret burial plots by the Machado gunmen.
Batista, accompanied by his companion, drove his car to a point one block from the cemetery. Thousands of persons were in the streets around the cemetery and at the moment Batista arrived he heard rifle fire. Apparently the emotions of the crowd had broken loose and the mobs in the streets were screaming and shouting. After a few minutes the shooting stopped and order was restored. The disturbances near the cemetery were typical of the disorders occurring throughout the nation at the time. There was no authority in government, and large groups of undisciplined students and revolutionaries roamed the streets killing or wounding the remnants of the hated Machado secret police force. Property of the officials of the Machado government was sacked, then burned, by these marauders, many of whom were not true revolutionaries and had had no real part in overthrowing the Machado government.
Batista and his soldier companions met at the grave of the martyred Sergeant Hernández, where they were joined by about twenty enlisted men of the Armed Forces. When the burial ceremonies were started Batista's companions asked him to deliver the oration. He was deeply moved and agreed to speak. He began with an eulogy of the fallen hero, and, as his emotions increased, be went into a tirade against the officer personnel, not one of whom bad appeared at the funeral, and declared that the noncommissioned officers would lead the revolution, along patriotic channels, toward nationalist, democratic government. Once he made the mistake of revealing part of the plan to take the power away from the officers, he had to move fast. Batista's declaration before the open grave of Sergeant Hernandez was followed next day by a meeting of the enlisted men of the Navy, at which it was resolved to organize an enlisted men's society, ostensibly to protect the enlisted men's rights, actually to support Batista's revolutionary scheme. It was signed aby a group of enlisted men who purposely scrawled their signatures so that they could not be recognized.
A few nights later Batista attended a meeting which was held in the Masonic Hall in Havana. The movement among the enlisted men was well under way at the time and Batista was its leader. After the meeting, little groups of enlisted men stood on the street corners and held conferences. This worried Batista, who knew that such street-comer assemblies of men in uniform would attract attention of civilian passers-by and cause talk. He wanted no talk at this point, and he certainly did not want to attract attention. Batista knew that his plans were bound to get to the General Staff if these street-corner meetings continued and he realized that he had a lion by the tail. He had no civilian backing for his movement and this worried him. He felt that it was imperative that civilian elements support the movement in order to assure its success. He tried to enlist the ABC in his cause. Batista met with his cell leader, Martí, submitted his plan, waited for an answer, and got a flat turndown. The ABC would have no part of the scheme. The Supreme Council of the ABC sent word that its members believed that such a movement would achieve little more than the disruption of Armed Forces' discipline without achieving its high ideals. That rejection was the biggest mistake the ABC ever made. Had it gone along with Batista, it would have come out of the revolution with the country in its pocket.
After the Batista movement succeeded, the ABC gradually disintegrated. For a while it represented the largest group in the Batista opposition, but it ceased to be an important factor after its revolution against Batista failed on November 9, 1933. Batista's opinion of the ABC after its rejection of his plan was not a very high one. He concluded that the organization was not the same virile group which had worked so hard, so valiantly, and so successfully for the overthrow of Machado. Opportunists had joined its ranks and were making a great show of patriotism long after the shooting had ended and the downfall of Machado had been achieved. After the rejection by the ABC, Batista continued to seek nonmilitary supporters and finally found a small group of civilian revolutionaries who agreed to go with him. Once he had their adherence, Batista was ready to broadcast a manifesto to the people of Cuba over the Cuban Telephone Company's radio station. But José Augustín Fernández, an official of the company, convinced Batista that such a pronunciamento would be premature and, perhaps, fatal to the cause. Batista accepted the official's counsel and withheld the declaration.
That same day Batista and his associates found out that several members of the Army General Staff and one or two other officers were aware of the unrest among the enlisted men, and, even worse, they bad information about the conspiracy of the Batista group. If there was any doubt in Batista's mind about the danger of his situation, those doubts were dismissed when he learned that his plans had "leaked" to several of his superior officers. Perhaps a less courageous person would have turned back at this point before reaching the point of no return-but Batista isn't the turning-back type. In fact, he gave the order to move faster. He quickly called a meeting in the home of Sergio Carbó, a great revolutionary and a great editor. The purpose was to get Carbó to act as go-between in an effort to enlist the aid of leading professors and students of Havana University to the Batista cause. Carbó was one of the most respected personalities of the revolutionary movement against Machado and one of Cuba's most brilliant writers. Batista knew that the support of Carbó would be helpful to his movement.
For years before the overthrow of Machado, Carbó bad edited and published a weekly magazine in Havana called La Semana. It was one of the most bitter anti-Machado magazines ever published and its incessant attacks on the Machado administration were inspired and generally written by Carbó. The Machado forces hated Carbó and his magazine. When all forms of coercion and persecution failed, the Machado forces destroyed the La Semana plant. Several unsuccessful attempts were made to kill Carbó, but he continued to fight the Machado dictatorship to the end.
Batista has told me since that time that the meeting with Carbó was an important one. He felt he had to have the prestige Carbó's name and presence would give the movement, and be knew that Carbó had great influence with the university group. Had he failed to get Carbó's support, his chances of getting civilian aid would have been greatly diminished.
At the time Carbó agreed to support the Batista group, the revolutionary spirit had infiltrated the entire Army. Batista kept himself busy. He moved from regiment to regiment, company to company, squad to squad, inciting each group to insurrection. He had passed the word to enlisted personnel of the Armed Forces, up and down the seven hundred miles of Cuban territory, and with each move the chance of exposure increased. Those were dangerous days for Batista and one of his great problems was restraining the "converts" he had rallied to his cause. Not only that, a word dropped here or there could reach Army General Headquarters and that could mean real trouble. He slept little. The tension on his nerves increased when the date was fixed for the coup d'etat. It was to be on September 8. Batista was sure that he bad the great majority of the enlisted men at Camp Columbia with him and that he would have no trouble controlling La Cabaña Fortress, across the bay from Havana. Camp Columbia was the Army Headquarters Post and La Cabaña guarded the city of Havana. Large garrisons are stationed at both places. During the days Batista was trying to hold his enlisted supporters in check, he received the disturbing news that former President Mario García Menocal was about to stage a coup d'etat of his own, using junior officers of the Army as the spearhead of the movement. Enlisted men in the barracks became restless and it was obvious that if the Batista movement was to succeed it would have to be inaugurated before the original date of September 8.
Years later Batista told me that the chaotic situation in Cuba following the overthrow of Machado demanded heroic and immediate solutions. "The unfortunate part of it," Batista told me, "was that the political parties and the groups of revolutionaries who had fought the Machado regime were not prepared to take over the authority once the dictator was deposed. They were disorganized and they had neither orientation nor plans. The beautiful ideals of those who previously had aspired to interpret the popular will of the people became nothing more than an avalanche of anarchic impulses after Machado was thrown out of power.
On September 2, Batista sent out the word via the enlisted men's grapevine that the sergeants and corporals would meet at eleven o'clock on the morning of September 4 in the Enlisted Men's Club in Camp Columbia. For the purpose of avoiding suspicion, Batista told his colleagues that the meeting would consider routine matters of the club and that plans would be discussed for increasing the welfare and recreational activities of the organization. Early on the morning of September 3, Batista left Havana for Matanzas, sixty miles east of the capital, accompanied by several civilian revolutionary leaders who had joined the movement. A few noncommissioned officers were also in the party. Batista's assignment in Matanzas was to tie up the loose ends of the plan for revolt. His key men in Matanzas were Clemente Gómez Sicre of the police force, Sergeant Desidero Sanchez, and a civilian, Santiago Alvarez, a strong leader among the revolutionaries.
While Batista and his group of plotters were working in Matanzas, President Céspedes, completely oblivious to the plans of the noncommissioned officers, left Havana by automobile for the interior of the island. The purpose of the President's trip was to inspect damages wrought by a recent hurricane and direct relief activities. As Batista's car moved westward on the return trip from Matanzas to Havana and Camp Columbia it passed the car carrying the President eastward. This ironic coincidence caused a great deal of joking among the passengers in the Batista car, despite the fact that they were on a dangerous mission. One of the occupants of the Batista car made the observation that had Céspedes even suspected what was going on he would turn his car around and race back to Havana posthaste. Another suggested that if the President knew where the Batista group was coming from he'd be quite upset, and the third joker suggested Céspedes would be even more alarmed if he knew where the Batista group was going.
As Batista moved toward Camp Columbia, one of his associates asked if Batista really meant to start the revolution. "Certainly," replied Batista, "and I don't know why, but I'm beginning to believe we'll have to get going before September 8." "And with what arms are you going to fight this revolution?" asked the companion. Batista had to do a little bluffing here, so he answered firmly, The arms are in Columbia awaiting our return." As a matter of fact, what Batista had in Columbia at that time were men and not too much attention had been given to the acquisition of arms. The party reached Camp Columbia, on the outskirts of Havana, after nightfall. Batista knew he could not block the movement now even if he wanted to do so, and he also knew that he was in a fine position to get himself shot for Mutiny.
Years later he told me that on September 3, as he reentered Camp Columbia from the trip to Matanzas, he felt as if be were sitting on the edge of a volcano.
By the time Batista returned from Matanzas, almost the entire enlisted personnel at Camp Columbia was in on the plot. Word had continued to get to the officers and Batista knew that every minute wasted would lessen his chance of success. He sent word to his followers that they should be on the alert, ready to strike on his signal. The tension throughout the ranks heightened and Batista had to move from sector to sector, instructing the men and urging them to be patient. In order to throw off suspicion, Batista announced that the meeting at the Enlisted Men's Club would study plans for the construction of an enlisted men's beach in the Jaimanitas section, near Camp Columbia. On the night of September 3, Batista decided he had better not sleep in his own home near the army camp. He knew that his house was being watched by the military intelligence, so be spent the night in the home of a friend near Havana University. The meeting "to discuss the enlisted men's beach" was scheduled for eleven the next morning, September 4, and a fellow sergeant was to pick up Batista and take him to the session.
Batista arrived at the gasoline filling station in the Quartermaster Depot in Camp Columbia at ten-thirty in the morning, accompanied by a fellow conspirator, Sergeant José Pedraza. There was no gasoline available at the Quartermaster's place and Batista asked Pedraza to drive the car to another filling station near the Military Hospital. Batista waited around the Quartermaster Depot. He asked one of the enlisted men who was in on the plot how things were going. Before he bad the answer, Batista got the shock of his life. A group of excited fellow conspirators ran up to him to tell him that Captain Mario Torres Menier, aide to the Chief of Staff, was waiting for him on the porch of the enlisted men's club. The enlisted men were ready to rebel, Batista was told, but the appearance of this high officer indicated the plotters were in for trouble. Fearful that the whole revolutionary scheme might fail at this point, Batista decided that the only thing he could do was to meet the captain and depend upon his own ability to talk the officer down. if he failed to outmaneuver the captain, his revolution would be doomed and its leaders shot.
It was a completely unexpected turn, this appearance of Captain Torres Menier, and Batista wanted to make no mistakes. Every man in the group was talking at the same tiine and it was difficult to stop them. Finally, in an effort to get the facts, Batista asked if any of the men in the group knew how Torres Menier had found out about the meeting at the Enlisted Men's Club. He got the answer. One of the parties to the conspiracy, Corporal José Capote of the Air Corps, had naively invited the captain to join the conspiracy. This indiscretion, of course, jeopardized the whole movement and could easily have led to the execution of the conspirators. Batista asked that the erring Corporal Capote be brought before him. When Capote neared Batista he stopped, saluted nervously, and stood at attention. He explained that he had tried to enlist the support of the captain because he felt that he could be helpful in winning the support of the Air Corps. Captain Torres Menier, in addition to his duties as aide to the Chief of Staff, was commanding officer of the Air Corps.
After explaining his reasons for approaching the officer, Corporal Capote removed his pistol from the holster and, taking it by the barrel, handed it to Batista. "Sergeant Batista," Capote said, "if you think I am a traitor, take this pistol and shoot me." Capote shook with emotion as he awaited Batista's decision. Batista passed the pistol back to Capote and said: "Your death would achieve nothing. But You must be careful. These moments are fraught with danger and only God knows what will happen to us now." After returning the pistol to Corporal Capote, Batista ordered the Corporal to go with him to Captain Torres Menier. He knew lie had to face the officer sooner or later and it might just as well be sooner, lie thought. He bad no idea of what was going to happen when he met the Captain and be bad no defense against the charges that be was conspiring. Before starting to walk over to the Enlisted Men's Club, a block or two away, Batista spoke again to his companions. He instructed them to follow close behind him. He said he would try to lure the Captain, who was pacing the porch in front of the club, into the club room. If he succeeded, his colleagues were to move in behind him close enough to hear the conversation between Batista and Torres Menier and to be ready for anything. The group fanned out and started to march to the club, twenty feet behind Batista.
This was the most dangerous minute Batista bad lived in his thirty-two years on earth and he knew it. Was he marching toward victory? The situation looked bad. A thousand thoughts, a thousand unanswered questions, rushed through his mind as he marched along. The pounding inside his chest grew heavier and beavier-in rhythm with the sound of the footsteps of his friends behind him. He kept up his courage by repeating to himself this phrase: "My steps mark the path of victory for the humble; we are moving toward an objective which will convert our dreams into realities; this is the realization of an ideal which will lift the common soldier from the sad conditions under which he has lived in the past; this is the straight road to the restoration of the sovereignty of a people whose independence has been threatened by the imposition of a regime of 'mediation' by a foreigner who exercised a right which must be destroyed."
When Batista mentioned the "regime of mediation," he was referring, of course, to the Céspedes government, which was the outgrowth of mediation efforts of United States Ambassador Sumner Welles. His reference to "a right which must be destroyed," indicated his desire to see the abrogation of the Platt Amendment, which gave the United States the right to intervene in Cuban affairs. The Platt Amendment was written into the Cuban Constitution in 1903, shortly after the United States relinquished control of the island, and it became the most obnoxious document ever conceived, as far as Cubans were concerned.
The amendment, which was simply a device written into the Constitution at the insistence of the American government, gave the United States the right to intervene in Cuban affairs "for the preservation of Cuban independence, the maintenance of a government adequate for the protection of life, property and individual liberty." In effect, it nullified, or at least limited, the independence Cuba bad won on the field of battle, and it gave the United States a distinct advantage in any negotiations it might want to carry on with Cuba.
Among other restrictions, the Platt Amendment included one which prohibited Cubans from resorting to popular revolution, which was the only defense the Cuban people had against corrupt and brutal governments, such as the Machado administration. As a matter of fact, there are those who feel that Cuba did not actually achieve political independence until Batista forced the abrogation of the Platt Amendment in 1934. So, for the first thirty-two years of her republican life, Cuba lived under the threat of intervention, a threat which was carried into action in 1906. In that year the United States moved in on Cuba, appointed an American governor general and held control for three years.
Upon reaching the porch of the Enlisted Men's Club, Corporal Capote nervously introduced Batista to Captain Torres Menier. The two had never met. Batista saluted and asked the officer if he wanted to see him. The Captain wanted to know the purpose of the meeting called by Batista for eleven o'clock that morning. At this point Batista made his move. He had to get the Captain inside the club room in order to carry out his plan of surrounding him with noncommissioned conspirators. He suggested to the Captain that they move inside to discuss the matter and Captain Torres Menier walked into the trap. He followed Batista's suggestion and entered the club. Meanwhile, Batista's aides had alerted the entire Armed Forces, They had telephoned La Cabaña Fortress, the General Military Hospital, the Corps of Engineers, the Castillo de la Fuerza in downtown Havana, and the troops on duty at the Presidential Palace. The Batista nucleus in each place was told to come to Camp Columbia with as many armed followers as they could muster. This was the showdown and the Revolt of the Sergeants was under way.
Once inside the club room, Batista asked the Captain's permission to allow other sergeants to join him. The officer assented and in doing so he snapped the lock on the trap into which he had been lured a few minutes earlier by astute Sergeant Batista. Little did the Captain realize that when he left the club room be would be relieved of all authority by a group of rebellious sergeants. Batista then took the time to present each sergeant personally to the Captain. Introductions were being passed back and forth as though the meeting was a social affair. Batista was playing for time. He had to have enough time to allow the soldiers from the other stations to come to his aid. As Batista went on with introductions, soldiers began climbing up into the windows of the club room, blocking the morning sunlight. Their voices became louder and more ominous as they shouted and gesticulated. Batista felt more comfortable as he saw more and more of his friends moving into the club room.
Finally, the conversation between the two principals began. It was a dialogue between a representative of the old Army and a representative of the new Army-of-the-sergeants. Batista opened the conversation. "Captain Torres Menier, will you please tell all of us the purpose of your mission?" With the Captain's permission, he sat down. Captain Torres Menier said that he was disturbed by the fact that a great deal of propaganda bad been passed among the enlisted men, baseless stories that enlisted men's salaries were to be reduced, for example. Nor was it true, said the officer, that there would be mass discharges of enlisted men. He said the Chief of Staff was particularly interested in increasing the clothing and rations of the enlisted men and that action toward improving conditions would be taken when Colonel Sanguily, Chief of Staff, recovered from the illness which had hospitalized him. Torres Menier said that Secretary of War, Horacio Ferrer, had, the day before, issued a circular denying the truth of the rumors running through the ranks of the enlisted men. These rumors, the officer said, were designed solely to destroy discipline. Batista realized that Captain Torres Menier had not told all he knew. He was certain that the officer bad information about the plans for the Revolt of the Sergeants. Perhaps the Captain's constraint was induced by the presence of so many hostile enlisted men. The real purpose of his visit undoubtedly was to have a showdown with Batista, and, perhaps, to demand an explanation of his efforts to incite revolution. When the Captain concluded, Batista asked for the floor to speak for the enlisted men.
The Sergeant explained that the enlisted men demanded that they be given the same considerations as any other citizen. In the beginning he dealt only with the problems mentioned by Torres Menier. The soldier, Batista said, was duty-bound to sacrifice his life, if necessary, to protect the nation. The speaker's emotions were building and he raised his voice. The Captain realized that Batista's words were exciting the soldiers and he tried to stop the speaker. "If you Continue to talk in such a strain you will incite the soldiers to insubordination," shouted the officer. The Captain was right and Batista knew it. But he kept up the harangue. By that time Batista's self-confidence was increasing. He was delivering an oration. His purpose was to impress the soldiers and he was doing it well. "If we consider the soldier as a man," said Batista, "then we must grant him the dignity to which every man is entitled." Captain Torres Menier must have wondered what all this oratory meant. "This dignity, Batista went on, "does not lessen the soldier's obligation and discipline. In fact, by the very nature of his obligations, the soldier has a double responsibility. Although a soldier's liberty of action may be limited, even in moments when there is a lack of authority in the nation, it is an offense to every man in uniform to call the mere announcement of a desire for readjustment an act of insubordination." Batista was addressing these words to the Captain, but not because be thought they would have any effect on the officer. He simply wanted the enlisted men to bear and assimilate what be was saying.
When Batista finished his discourse the place was up in arms. Enlisted men were shouting "Viva Batista! Viva Batista!" and the movement ceased to be a mere break in discipline. It was an outright revolution! Batista turned to Captain Torres Menier and offered an explanation. He bad nothing against the officer, whose unexpected visit to the Enlisted Men's Club bad provided the match which lighted the powder keg. As Batista spoke to the Captain his words were lost among the cheers and vivas for the Sergeant from Banes. Meanwhile, several other officers came in the club room. But they arrived too late. The revolution was on its way and there was nothing to stop it. The Chief of the Military District of Columbia was there. So were Major Antonio Pineda and most of the General Staff. The tumult continued and Batista spoke to the enlisted men again. Discipline had collapsed and Batista wanted order. He got it by out-shouting the enlisted men. In a desperate effort to save the day, Captain Torres Menier tried to make a deal with the rebellious enlisted men. Why not wait, be suggested, to allow time for the Chief of Staff to solve the problems presented by Sergeant Batista? They were not difficult problems, the Captain explained, and they could be settled quickly. It was a simple play for time and it was rejected. As they prepared to leave the room the officers made a final appeal to the men, saying they would return that evening with a definite proposal. But no one paid any attention to them. As Batista later remarked: "At that point, the authority was in the street and discipline within the Army had broken down completely."
As the enlisted men crowded Batista to shake his hand and embrace him, he knew that the first phase of the revolutionary movement bad succeeded. Then and there Batista took command. He stopped the handshaking quickly. He knew that he must undertake the next and equally dangerous phase of the insurrection immediately. He paid his respects to the bewildered officers, closed the meeting, and went into the company streets to talk to the soldiers. He had to solidify his gains and to re-establish discipline among the men.
Batista's greatness as a revolutionary leader lies not so much in his ability to plan and execute the actual ousting of a government but rather in his ability to control the situation once the revolutionary movement is successful. Unquestionably Batista is expert in both phases of revolution, but the drama of the quick military movement attracts more attention than the less spectacular, more important task of stabilizing a country after it has been upset by revolution. For example, it requires real skill and leadership to persuade a military organization to break discipline and throw aside obedience today, and then to convince the same men tomorrow that they should accept discipline and re-embrace obedience in order to restore the peace of the nation. In simpler words, it's one thing to get the rebellious soldiers out of the barracks and into the fight but it's quite another to get them to return to their barracks and stack their arms. In both the revolutionary movements Batista has headed he has been successful largely because he was able to control the revolutionary forces after, as well as before, the victory had been achieved. Had he not been able to do that in September, 1933, and March, 1952, he would have thrown his country into political and economic chaos of such proportions as seriously to endanger the tranquility of the Western Hemisphere.
Another indication of the special talent Batista has developed for directing successful revolutions is seen in the fact that he staged both the 1933 and 1952 movements without bloodshed. For some reason there seems to be a belief, which is rather general in the United States, that the Batista revolution of 1933 was a violent one in which a great many Cubans were killed or wounded. This erroneous impression became evident when his 1952 coup d'etat was carried out. In reporting that movement, a number of newspapers emphasized that it was done without armed conflict or bloodshed in contrast to the bloody revolution of September, 1933. This impression was absurd, of course, for the very sound reason that not a single shot was fired in the Revolt of the Sergeants in September, 1933. There were no casualties in either insurrection.