Being for somes years married to a deaf woman, I became active in the disabled rights movement back in the time when public transport and facilities were only rarely accessible to persons in wheelchairs. During that period, Jim Charlton, a quadraplegic recently appointed a member of the Chicago Transit Authority Board by Mayor Harold Washington, was working on a study of access in third world countries. He and a group of fellow activists travelled together to Cuba to study how that poor country was accomodating the disabled.
There had been hope that the group would meet with Fidel Castro, but the days passed without any such window of opportunity staying open long enough for the event to occur. On the last night, however, while the group, preparing for bed in their hotel suite, was videotaping a discussion amongst themselves about their visit, it was announced that the man might indeed appear. Members went out of camera range into the hallway to see what was happening, one of them a little boy.
The discussion continued, now mostly speculation, until it was interrupted by the boy who came running in shouting "It's Santa Claus, it's Santa Claus!" And, to much of the third world's population for decades, indeed, it was.
Although capable of conversation in English, Fidel came into the room accompanied by an interpreter and sat down with the group, the little boy, perched on his lap, playing with his beard during much of what became a multi-houred give and take about issues of concern to the visiting Americans.
For a citizen of the world's greatest power, the informality of the meeting and the human accessibility of its president was refreshing to watch. So, too, was the genuine concern that Castro displayed as regards to the issues raised by this group, issues which to him, concerned about fulfilling even the most basic of human needs, might be expected to seem peripheral and secondary as they pertain only to exceptional minorities. Not so. While the hard fact of Cuba's very limited resource base was acknowledged, the concern and efforts on behalf of the disabled seemed quite genuine.
Szulc's portrayal of Fidel Castro is of a piece with the impressions left on my friend by his meeting with him. While critical--and Castro himself seems quite comfortable with self-criticism, it does strongly suggest that there is a sincere concern with improving the commonweal, both of Cuba and of the poor worldwide, on the part of Fidel Castro. Not only is the task of conventional biography fulfilled by this book, but Szulc's personal relationship with his subject allows him to convey a sense of the character of the man.
I noticed that some reviews of this book refer to it as "authorized." It is authorized in the sense that its subject cooperated with its production by allowing interviews. It is not authorized in any hagiographical sense. There is no censorship and the author does critically question many of the policies of Cuba under Castro. As Szulc points out, the only thing he was commanded to do was to print no falsehoods.