The rise of Batista on September 8, 1933, to a position of great power as Chief of the Army was as startling as it was quick, and neither the people of Cuba nor interested non-Cubans knew anything about the man. Lacking this knowledge, many people made the mistake of believing the young Sergeant was just a passing figure, a mutinous fanatic whose rebellious acts would be dealt with by an Army court-martial. That sort of reasoning evidently bad influenced the old officers of the Army when they decided to reject his offer to turn the Armed Forces back to the officers. They were unwilling to believe that the Batista movement was more revolutionary than mutinous, and they saw no reason to carry on extended negotiations with its leader. For months after he came into power he was ignored by a large sector of the Cuban people, despised by the army officer clique, and snubbed by the aristocratic upper crust. Even the United States Embassy in Havana wrote him off as a "radical," and references to him in reports to Washington described him simply as a "sergeant named Batista."

One of the most difficult tasks confronting American newspaper correspondents in Cuba at that time was that of explaining Batista to the people of the world. As far as the American press was concerned, Batista was completely unknown when he overthrew the Céspedes government. There were no data on him in the newspaper morgues, no files on his past activities. But since the pressure from home offices was such that the American reporters had to produce something informative about the past, the present, and the future of this fascinating news personality, the reporters resorted to guessing. The correspondents apparently did their guessing individually, without consultation among themselves. The conflicting opinions of Batista in 1933 must certainly have confused the readers of the world's newspapers. Correspondents were so far apart in the estimates of the man that one prominent newspaperman described Batista as Communistic, while another equally important correspondent said he was definitely a Fascist, a disciple of the Mussolini doctrine. There was even great speculation as to his real nationality. One reporter insisted Batista was an Uruguayan, another came up with the interesting, though erroneous, information that Batista was a Greek, the long-lost son of some kindly old gentleman in Athens. One of the most persistent rumors was that Batista was a Colombian. This rumor still comes up now and then, and it is, of course, absolutely baseless. Batista is as Cuban as the sugar cane he once cut for a living. But the guessing contest went on and on.

I recall that Colonel Frederick Palmer, then a great war correspondent, rushed down from New York to do the real story on Batista. After exhaustive research, the best Colonel Palmer's talents could develop was this rather trite statement: "He is thirty-two years old and was born in Oriente Province, of poor parents; Batista entered the infantry at twenty-two, became a corporal, studied stenography, and became a sergeant doing office work for the general staff." These bare facts had already been reported a number of times by the correspondents stationed in Havana. The revelations of Colonel Palmer hardly justified the cost of sending him to Cuba. A dozen other staff writers were sent to Cuba by the large newspapers in the States to handle the coverage of the Batista story. Tom Pettey was sent from New York by the Herald Tribune, Russell Porter was in Havana for the New York Times and the late Dixie Tighe went along to do a few stories. Some of these experts worked hard and dug up a lot of facts. Others just relaxed in the comfort of sloppy Joe's Bar and picked up little bits of misinformation over their Daiquirí glasses. One of the very few "specials" who guessed right on Batista was Bill Hutchinson of the International News Service. After a couple of conversations with Batista, Hutchinson decided the fellow was made of pretty solid stuff and that far from being the flash-in-the-pan some reporters said he was, Batista would likely be around for a long, long time.

Batista was made to order for newspapermen. A colorful personality with a definite talent for making news, he has a great admiration for reporters. During those difficult days of September, 1933, Batista worked long hours. He never seemed to sleep. At the end of the long day be frequently invited his friends among the newspapermen to come in for a visit with him. On many occasions, the telephone in my apartment would awaken me in the middle of the night with a message from Camp Columbia-the Colonel would like to see me. In all the years I've spent as a reporter in Latin America, I can think of nothing that gave me more pleasure than the hours I spent chatting informally in the pre-dawn hours of the late summer of 1933 with Fulgencio Batista. He has always been courteous and friendly with foreign correspondents and at no time has he ever placed a restriction on them. Furthermore, he has never tried to evade a question put to him by a newspaperman. Batista has never required newspapermen to submit questions in writing prior to an interview, and be never has a press secretary brief him on what a newspaperman is likely to ask. He prefers to let the newspaperman fire away, ask any and all questions which come into his mind. This is an exceptional attitude for a man who has been called a dictator so many times.

I recall an incident which happened in 1934, one which I thought might end the friendly relations I had enjoyed with Batista. I had covered a shooting in mid-town Havana in which a few hot-headed soldiers had fired rifles into a group of disorderly students. I witnessed the shooting myself and filed the story to the AP in New York. It was not a very pretty story and it happened at a time Batista was trying to re-establish public respect for the Army. 1 knew that sooner or later the clippings on the story would reach Batista's desk. Cuban consuls in the United States regularly sent clippings to Batista. I waited ten days, and although I saw Batista several times during that period, he said nothing about my story. Finally, I decided to bring the matter up myself, and I asked him if he had seen the story. "Yes," be replied, I saw it." He did not indicate how he felt about it and I wanted to know. "Well," I said, "what did you think of the story?" His answer was quick and direct. I didn't like the story but I am sure it was an accurate one. I know you're an honest reporter and if you said the thing happened that way I'm sure it did." I then explained that in certain other countries in which I had worked some government officials didn't have that kind of faith in my reporting and that reporters had been tossed out of places for writing less damaging stories.

"Well," he said, "I look at it this way: I know you and I know you are personally friendly to the Cuban people and not hostile to me. I know, too, that you would never concoct a story about us. If I were to send you out of the country the AP would send in another correspondent whom I don't know and who doesn't know me. The chances are he wouldn't know the Cuban people as you do. That would work to the disadvantage of Cuba. And whoever is sent would arrive in an angry mood, angry because I sent you out. So, if you don't mind, we'll just drop the whole thing. I'll take my chances with you." It's difficult to hate a fellow who thinks like that.

One of the inexplicable things about the rise of Batista and the fall of President C6spedes was the fact that the representatives of the United States government, vitally interested in Cuban affairs at the time, managed to get so much bad information, make so many bad guesses, both on what was happening and what was likely to happen. This was especially strange since Sumner Welles had been in Havana, taking an active interest in Cuban political affairs, for six months before Batista came into power. Since the United States policy with regard to Cuba apparently was being influenced by this information, the official acts of the Washington government were frequently as erroneous as the data Welles provided.