An intimate, revisionist portrait of the early years of Fidel Castro, showing how an unlikely young Cuban led his country in revolution and transfixed the world.
This book will change how you think about Fidel Castro. Until now, biographers have treated Castro’s life like prosecutors, scouring his past for evidence to convict a person they don’t like or don’t understand. This can make for bad history and unsatisfying biography. Young Castro challenges readers to put aside the caricature of a bearded, cigar-munching, anti-American hot head to discover how Castro became the dictator who acted as a thorn in the side of US presidents for nearly half a century.
These pages show Fidel Castro getting his toughness from a father who survived Spain’s nasty class system and colonial wars to become one of the most successful independent plantation owners in Cuba. They show a boy running around that plantation more comfortable playing with the children of his father’s laborers than his tony classmates at elite boarding schools in Santiago de Cuba and Havana. They show a young man who writes flowery love letters from prison and contemplates the meaning of life, a gregarious soul attentive to the needs of strangers but often indifferent to the needs of his own family. These pages show a liberal democrat who admires FDR’s New Deal policies and is skeptical of communism, but is also hostile to American imperialism. They show an audacious militant who stages a reckless attack on a military barracks but is canny about building an army of resisters. In short, Young Castro reveals a complex man.
The first American historian in a generation to gain access to the Castro archives in Havana, Jonathan Hansen was able to secure cooperation from Castro’s family and closest confidants, gaining access to hundreds of never-before-seen letters and to interviews with people he was the first to ask for their impressions of the man. The result is a nuanced and penetrating portrait of a figure who was determined to be a leader—a man at once brilliant, arrogant, bold, vulnerable and all too human. A man who, having grown up on an island that felt like a colonial cage, was compelled to lead his country to independence.
Jonathan M. Hansen is Lecturer in Social Studies and Faculty Associate, David Rockefeller Center for Latin American Studies, at Harvard University. An intellectual historian by training, he is the author of The Lost Promise of Patriotism: Debating American Identity, 1890-1920 (Chicago, 2003) and Guantanamo: An American History (Hill and Wang, 2011), along with articles, editorials, and book reviews on U.S. imperialism, nationalism, cosmopolitanism, and race and ethnicity. He is currently working on two projects: one, a history of apology, combines longitudinal analysis of apology in Western culture reaching back to classical literary and sacred texts with a latitudinal examination of apology and reconciliation projects across cultures, continents, and oceans; the second, a history of post traumatic stress syndrome in American wars, explores whether and in what forms PTSD existed before the idea of "trauma" became commonplace. Born in Philadelphia and educated at Haverford College and Boston University, Hansen lives with his family in Belmont, Massachusetts.
This biography of Castro covers his life up until the success of the Cuban revolution in 1959. Although very sympathetic, author Hansen does not eschew all criticism, noting instances when Castro's own accounts differ from the record.
Among the controversies surrounding Castro's story is that of when and how he became a communist. Hansen, along with many others, maintains that it was late, after the revolution, and only upon provocation after provocation by the United States, which was (and still is) consistently attempting to undermine Cuban sovereignty. Indeed, this book may be seen as substantiating that thesis pretty thoroughly.
Unlike most academic historians, Hansen writes very well and evocatively.
This was excellent but left me wishing it continued post 1959. I just hope there’s a second volume in the works because from what I can tell there isn’t another even handed, fully realized biography of Castro available at the current time. Needless to say Castro’s life post revolution also deserves a full biographical treatment.
Jonathan M. Hansen has done a superb job recreating the early years of Fidel Castro, in an accessible narrative directed at the general reader. Even longtime Castro buffs and academics can find a few fresh tidbits for chewing, although overall there’s no really new ground covered. The book’s importance is in introducing the Castro story and the emergence of the Cuban Revolution to a new generation, who know little of both except handed-down cold war demonology.
Through these pages we follow the oft-told story beginning as family history, with father Angel in Galicia; through the birth of Fidel and siblings (the question of Fidel’s legitimacy is nicely skirted); his early years in Oriente, in high school, and finally Havana U., where the future leader emerged as a Big Man on Campus in the guerrilla gangs of student politics. In this brickhouse jungle the Commandante-to-be learned the arts of struggle and combat, putting him in good stead for outmaneuvering foes and allies alike in future hostile terrain.
Hansen’s narrative pursues Fidel into exile, then back, detailing the rise of the rebel army until its eventual conquest of power. He does not dwell on the Communist issue, except to note that as a revolutionary out to restructure an ossified satellite regime long in the US orbit, Castro was bound to fall foul of “American interests;” that ultimately there was no way to reconcile said interests with the Revolution’s sovereignty over Cuba and Fidel’s sovereignty over both. If Communism was “not the way,” the US certainly was offering no viable alternative in its sterile anti-Communism and imperial skullduggery. Hansen shreds the US excuse that it “supported democracy” against Batista when quite the opposite fills the historic record; that, again, the US and the Revolution would have been at loggerheads had there been no Communists in Cuba to ally with. And in fact Castro’s radicalism stems not from ideology but from attitude and method, in his head-on collision with whatever stood in his way. Programs and platforms were afterthoughts, forward momentum the end in itself.
Thus Hansen may, possibly, be seen as too “liberal” in justifying Fidel’s lifelong thrust to power; that tyranny was its inevitable result regardless of official creeds of the moment. But, once again, the US has never been in the moral position to judge; for its own behavior before and after January 1, 1959, was totally selfish and even squalid in Cuba and throughout the Western Hemisphere. We see the entire cold war re-emerging in Cuba as it had in Europe after WW II – a new generation looking to break with a discredited past, vs. world-weary old men seeking to restore a status quo-ante.
There are a few criticisms of Hansen’s style and an occasional gaffe. Intended for the general reader, his text sometimes is too conversational: “um” should never appear in a narrative! Also, the New York Times' Havana stringer-reporter R. Hart Phillips was Ruby, not “Rudy,” adopting the initial as a dodge around the mens-club culture of US journalism of the period. While Dr. Manuel Urrutia Lleo, provisional president nominated by Castro in 1958, was not a “federal” judge as no such category exists in the Cuban legal system. Hansen also seems to have been the victim of “guerrilla theater,” in acquiring the letters of Fidel to Naty Revuelta. Ms. Reveulta would not have released these revealing documents of the Lider Maximo (nor been allowed to retain them in the first place) without clearance from the highest authorities. Her initial refusal was doubtless to obtain such clearance; as Hansen was judged “friendly,” she was then free to share them in a great show of generosity.
But the modern US reader will benefit from this narrative of a figure both larger than life and of the stereotype crafted for him by the United States. There was little likelihood of Cuba’s tattered remnants of civil society taking priority, once Fidel’s private army seized the commanding heights of power: why shouldn’t those who put their lives on the line in battle call the shots afterward? And, there was no room for a Lider Maximo in the 1940 Constitution of the Republic. Hansen leaves us wondering if things might have been different; but that would have required different actors in the US and Cuba. As Castro’s own story shows, history is made by those on the spot with power to act, on the choices their times present.
A solid, well-sourced look at Fidel Castro’s life from his birth to the success of the Revolution. Hansen shows Castro as a charismatic idealist whose successes, failures, and oddities were all the results of his experiences as a Latin American under imperial control. No matter how you feel about Castro, this book paints a clear portrait of the man and his motivations. I recommend it no matter where you fall on the political spectrum.
Well researched and well written, Hansen entreats the reader to relive the exciting, eye opening, and expressive youth and formative years of Fidel Castro. What I especially liked about the book was the effort spent, not an insignificant one, mind you, on coloring the contours and outlines of Fidel’s extended family, parents and siblings alike, particularly as it pertains to how those intimate bonds shaped and impacted the soon to be “political colossus of the 21st century.”
I cannot emphasize this point enough. Of the three previous biographies I have read on Fidel, none until Hansen’s here truly and comprehensively educated me on the background of Fidel’s father, Ángel. From his life of destitution and misery in Spain, to his migration to Cuba initially to fight under the banner of his homeland against the Cuban independence nationalists, to later starting small and eventually becoming one of the wealthiest cultivators in Cuba. Not to mention, throughout the book, the growing Fidel’s relationship with Ángel and his mother Lina, both naturally distinct. Lina was unconditional in her love for her second oldest son Fidel, while Ángel, the old school, self made man, was ever supportive, especially financially, but also firm in advising and insisting that Fidel become a responsible and productive member of society through education, a vehicle Ángel himself was never able to access in his youth.
From those pages centered on Fidel’s early life, upbringing, and family dynamics before his enrollment at the University of Havana, we can clearly appreciate why Fidel was so ever confident, so unshakable in the audacity of both his personality and his sense of particular destiny. His “grounding,” to borrow from Walter Rodney, was ever secure, ever perfectly watered for whatever role in life he wanted to play or course he wanted to take.
I think by far the greatest asset of this book, compared to other existing biographies of Fidel, is the expansive exploration and analysis of his political life starting from his student days in the law faculty at the University of Havana. That phase of his life, so underrated in my opinion, when stripped away from any discussion of the Moncada Barracks attack, leaves one thinking the attack was categorically impulsive, cavalier, and reflective of that famed reckless arrogance of Fidel. Yet as Hansen cleverly discusses, Moncada was no more a planned but importantly spontaneous reaction against Batista’s coup by Fidel than it was by Abel Santamaría or the others who took part in it, than the whole of Cuba, especially the political intelligentsia of both the Orthodoxo and Authentico parties.
So well woven, albeit violently and chaotically, were Cuban university life and national politics that students of the time, especially those politically minded, were for all intents and purposes “shadow politicians.” Batista’s coup against President Carlos Prío Socarrás was not a blow only against the politicians but against the students as well. Everyone was heated and engaged by the brazenness of Batista, not to say Prío Socarrás was any better, but at least he could be removed in the next elections, unlike Batista.
After waiting many months for something tangible to occur on the ground mirroring the general sentiments felt by most of the political masses, especially those not yet co opted by Batista, that is when and why Fidel and Santamaría decided to strike with their audacious and evidently foolhardy Moncada attack. Only now, reading Hansen’s book, have I truly grasped the necessary nuance and context. And that is, ultimately, the recurring theme of this book, the availing of critical nuance from Fidel’s formative years that makes clearer one’s prior appreciation of the man.
The only drawback, or better said, criticism of the book is perhaps when Hansen navigated outside the stated strengths of the narrative, that is, the chronicling of the early upbringing of Castro and related matters. What I mean specifically is the chapters dedicated to Fidel’s actual deeds, actions, and influence during the Sierra Maestra campaign. To a reader for whom this is their first brush with the details of the Sierra Maestra guerrilla push against Batista, I worry they might come out quickly overwhelmed by the rapid scale at which Hansen throws out the happenings, skirmishes, and key participants and their contributions, all at times seemingly at once and other times in such a rushed manner, almost as if Hansen assumes the reader is already well accustomed to the details of the Cuban Revolution and that his part here is merely to quickly brush over it again, almost like a checklist. It was a major letdown, as I have repeatedly come to realize and appreciate about history that it incredibly does not matter how many times one reads the same topic, as the particular authors whose research went into molding said books and narratives will always inherently surprise you with novel angles, nuances, or information that you otherwise were unaware of.
Following up on that point, and one last takeaway from the book I drew, and this is a personal and reflective one, I add this for fellow lovers of history who might likewise appreciate or have already observed it. See basically how, whether intentionally, unconsciously, or even deliberately, historians still project their enthusiasm or passions or essentially favor certain personalities. Previously, when I read Tony Perrottet’s book Cuba Libre, I noticed how he wrote quite positively and extensively about Celia Sánchez and her pivotal role in coordinating and ensuring operations at the Sierra went optimally to the eventual success of the revolution. Interestingly, while Perrottet wrote of Frank País, it was as “matter of fact” as one can appreciate. In stark contrast, Hansen does the exact opposite. He barely wrote or glamoured over Celia Sánchez, yet he waxes lyrically at every instance about Frank País. Thanks to that oversized particular focus on Frank, I was provided by far the most robust breakdown and analysis of Frank’s role in the llano, of his temperament, and of the cool but respectful regard with which he held Fidel and vice versa.
All of which is to say, the cynic in me, and the burgeoning lifelong student of Fidel Castro and his milieu, can now add Frank País to Ernesto Che Guevara as well as Abel Santamaría as among the biggest “what ifs” in Fidel Castro and the Cuban Revolution. That is, what if they too had survived and not died? Would Frank País, Che Guevara, or Abel Santamaría have broken off with Fidel later on? I will keep reading, so in time I will conclusively, and as historically sound as possible, have my own answer.
I often joke with my students and visitors to Cuba that for many Americans, Cuban history began on January 1, 1959, the date of the triumph of the Cuban Revolution. The truth is Cuban history began much earlier as did, sadly, US meddling in its affairs. This has lead to a misguided perception of what makes Cuba tick. Jonathan Hansen appears to agree. In the preface to his book he asks the reader "to suspend for a moment an image you may have of a bearded revolutionary clad in green fatigues," so that an unfiltered and historical picture of Castro's early years can be presented.
For me, Hansen has delivered an excellent presentation of part of Fidel Castro's life unknown to many Americans. Before he became one of the 20th centuries most charismatic and influential personalities, Fidel Castro was a normal youth, born and raised in the Oriente region (Eastern) of Cuba. Without the political baggage and associations that come with his role in the Cuban Revolution, we are allowed to see Fidel, the person, instead of Fidel the personality. The role of any historian is to go beyond the public image or mask and excavate facets of a person that have not been exposed for public consideration and consumption. Hansen is very skilled in doing so and has produced a book that should be read by anyone wishing to know more about Fidel Castro pre-1959.
I have lived in Havana for seven years and yet I still learned quite a bit. I know who Frank País was and even took my students to visit his house in Santiago de Cuba. But I had no idea of the role that País played in supporting the rebel cause before his assassination on July 30, 1957. I am glad that Hansen did not devote too much attention to the relationship between Castro and Ernesto "Che" Guevara; this is a trap that many historians would fall into. Hansen surmises that Guevara left Cuba in 1967 because the island was not big enough for him and Castro. This is also true of Young Castro. A more substantial Guevara presence would have hindered the impact and clarity of Hansen's thesis.
Fidel in México was a very interesting section for me. We seldom know what he did there, other than leave Tuxpan aboard the Granma to return to Cuba in 1956. Hansen reminds us that Castro and his retinue of rebels were constantly at risk from the Mexican police and Cuban agents (such as those who assassinated Julio Mello there in 1929).
Hansen peppers his text with interesting episodes that highlight the often ironic side of history. At the age of 14 young Fidel wrote a letter to the US President Franklin D. Roosevelt, and received a response! Imagine what would have happened had this minor interaction had led to a different historical turn. However, the most ironic moment is when future Cuban dictator and Castro nemesis Fulgencio Bastista gave Fidel and his wife gifts for their wedding in Oriente.
Like his previous book "Guantánamo: An American History", Hansen shows he is a very skilled writer, keeping the reader's attention without excessive name dropping or superfluous historical facts. Reading like a novel, "Young Castro" will engage readers and provide enlightening information of one of history's most mercurial figures.
Picked this up in a second hand book store and I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed it. I was surprised by its revisionism, especially considering how it is clearly written for an American audience, by an American author.
Having been the only American scholar to have been granted access to Castro’s private archive, the fieldwork done by Hansen in researching the book makes for a contextually rich and textured narrative, littered with anecdotes and letters.
Humanizing Castro does not come at the cost of a less accurate picture of pre-1959 Cuba. In fact the author makes an effort to tie in Castro’s biographical development to the country’s history, embedding him into the historical epic that is the story of the July 26 Movement.
My biggest takeaway is the logistical, emotional and general difficulty of carrying out a revolution. Reading about the July 26th movement can only illustrate the almost divine nature of its success, having overcome obstacles one would normally find impossible to face. From nearly drowning in a river as a boy to escaping Cuban intelligence in Mexico, defending himself in a trial for treason and murder, a botched landing after a week long boat journey, and a year and a half of guerrilla warfare, the Cuban revolution seems like the work of powers beyond.
The author also contextualizes Castro’s turn to communism and the USSR as the result of years of poorly informed US foreign policy.
I really enjoyed this book, it's a fascinating look at Castro's childhood and formative years leading up to his victory in taking over Cuba. Hansen does a great job looking at Castro with both nuance and interesting analysis. I particularly enjoyed the aspects of his interactions with the US, and Hansen's opinion that Castro may have not turned to communism if the US had been more receptive to Castro's young revolutionary government. I also learned a great deal about Cuba in the process - highly recommend to anyone looking to learn about Cuba and/or Fidel Castro!