Cuba: On the Block

The pirates are long since gone from the Spanish Main, and so are the slave traders. Their techniques, though, are well-remembered in Communist Cuba. Last week four members of the Cuban Families Committee for Liberation of Prisoners of War flew to Havana on a sorry mission—to negotiate the auction of 1,179 prisoners captured in last year's abortive Bay of Pigs invasion. A mass trial had found them guilty of treason; now at prices ranging from $25,000 to $500,000, Castro offered them for sale. Otherwise, said he. the prisoners would serve 30 years in prison.

In Havana the ransom delegation was welcomed with hand-rubbing expectation. Castro himself saw to the customers, and after 5½ hours of haggling agreed to release 60 men—all of them sick or wounded. As the pathetic captives arrived in Miami, 6,000 weeping exiles tried to sing the Cuban national anthem. The sight of the men choked it off; some were on crutches, one man bravely saluted with his left hand —his right arm had been shot away.

The Cuban revolution was quite obviously hurting for Yanqui dollars—though a mere $62 million will not go far to repair Cuba's economy. Speculating on very little evidence, some hopeful Washington Castrologists wondered if there might be another reason why Castro seemed eager to negotiate. Was Castro, feeling his control threatened by the Communists around him. shifting to a Khrushchev-style "coexistence" line with the U.S.? Whatever the explanation, the official U.S. reaction to the prisoner offer was no sale. "The U.S. cannot engage in a negotiation like that," said President Kennedy.

However, the U.S. Government would not stand in the way of any private efforts to raise the $62 million ransom.

Where would anyone get that kind of money? In Miami, the Families Committee said that it had little cash, but did have "pledges" (it would not say from whom) for $28 million worth of food. The food had been offered to Castro, who insisted on cash. For the first 60 men he demanded $3,000,000 but agreed to release them "on credit." The transaction, said the committee that flew to Havana, "constitutes for us a debt of honor." To raise the money, they would "continue to appeal to the humanitarian American public."