U.S. envoy recalls her ‘dog days’ with Castro

Retired U.S. Ambassador Vicki J. Huddleston recalls her days as the principal officer in the U.S. Interests Section in Havana, Cuba, and the “dog days” sparring with Fidel Castro.

As former President Jimmy Carter disembarked from his private plane at Havana’s Jose Marti airport on May 13, 2002, Fidel Castro walked along the red carpet shaking hands.

As Castro approached me, I was concerned. After all, only a few days before he had threatened to throw me out of the country, and when I offered him my hand I feared it might become a “diplomatic incident."

But the handshake passed without any sort of flurry. In fact, he looked relieved that I didn’t give him one of the little radios I had been passing out all over the country.

Only one ‘director of Cuban affairs’
Such a lack of interpersonal fireworks had not been typical of our interactions.

The first time I met Castro was in the earlier 1990s at a follow-up meeting to the Tripartite Accords that gave Namibia its independence and removed Cuban and South African troops from Angola. As the new director of Cuban affairs at the State Department, I was one of only two women — the Soviet ambassador’s wife was the other — attending a gala celebration in Havana’s Revolutionary Palace.

Castro, looking pleased that the rather long and boring signing ceremony was over, headed straight for the American delegation. Ignoring the greeting of our delegation’s chief, who was a good head taller than he — Castro, at over six feet tall, is used to being the center of attention and one of the tallest people in a room — he walked up to me and boomed out, “Who are you, someone’s spouse?” Every one of the 200 guests from six countries around the world turned in our direction. I had been warned that Castro loved to tease and embarrass delegation members. Why did it have to be me?

Determined not to be intimidated by this still handsome but overbearing legend, I stood up to my full 5 feet 5 inches and defiantly responded, “No, I am the director of Cuban affairs.” Castro looked at me thoughtfully, smiled, and replied in English for all to hear, “Oh, I thought I was.” 

But it wasn’t over yet.  As I reached the entrance to the dining room, Castro was waiting.  He offered me his arm, and when I took it, I could hear the gasps. “Oh, my God,” everyone was thinking, “there’s been a thaw in U.S.-Cuban relations.” Our delegation was undoubtedly wondering if I would still have a job when I got back to Washington.

As we approached the long table crammed with every imaginable delicacy, Castro moved away. I filled my plate with lobster and shrimp, wondering briefly if Cubans fishing from inner tubes in Havana Bay — the bay is off limits to small boats for security reasons — had caught them.

Before I could take a mouthful, Castro, pointing his finger at me, demanded, “Why does your government blockade Cuba?”

“It’s not a blockade, it’s an embargo,” I shot back. 

Rafael Perez / Reuters file The author, with dog “Havana,” at her residence in the Cuban capital on Feb. 14, 2001.

“Well, if it’s an embargo, why can’t we even buy an aspirin?” he countered. Balancing my plate and silverware, I looked around for support, but I was alone. So, I pointed out that we allowed essential medicines to be shipped to Cuba. Therefore, the embargo was not a blockade.

As Castro assured me that all he wanted were normal relations, I took stock of the situation. His aides had discreetly moved the guests, including the U.S. delegation, to the other side of the room where they couldn’t hear the exchange. And as far as I know, this was the last one-on-one, in-person conversation between Castro and an American official. That was 15 years ago!

Forty-five minutes later, it was over. Castro plucked an oversized martini off a nearby tray (but no cigar — after more than 40 years of smoking, he had given them up). I was exhausted. I had managed to talk about a third of the time, but only by interrupting his monologue. I was still wondering about my job tenure when the Defense Department member of our group said, “Congratulations, they took you seriously.”

To this day I don’t know what he wanted from our talk — perhaps an opening? If so, the State Department wasn’t interested. Normal relations would have to wait. Castro wasn’t about to accept our conditions.

As for me, I learned a lesson I never forgot, namely, that Fidel Castro is the director of Cuban affairs. We could try to influence Cuba’s leaders and its people, but the man who makes the decisions is Castro.

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