CUBANS
IN MIAMI:
AN HISTORIC PERSPECTIVE
[NOTE: Permission to reprint granted April 7, 1998 by Dr. Sicius.
This article has been revised and updated. The new version appeared
in Tequesta* December 1998. For copies of the new version, contact
HASF.]
*Tequesta is published annually by the Historical Association of Southern
Florida. http://www.historical-museum.org/history/tequesta.htm
By land:
The Historical Museum of Southern Florida,
101 West
Flagler Street,
Miami,
Florida 33130
Email:
hasf@historical-museum.org
Telephone:
305-375-1492
CUBANS IN MIAMI: AN HISTORIC PERSPECTIVE
by Francis J. Sicius
Division of Humanities
St. Thomas University Miami, Florida
Prepared for delivery at the annual meeting of the Florida Historical Society,
Miami, Florida, May 13, 1988.
Those who have written about Cubans in Miami have always placed the story
in the context of the last thirty years. But this perspective denies
geographic and cultural links that can only be measured in centuries not
decades. True, Miami itself has a short history, but that does not
believe what preceded Miami nor does it deny a relationship that Miami inherited
when a group of optimistic characters chose to call this tented, buildingless
train terminus a city in 1896.
In 1507, when Europeans printed the first map of the new world, they recorded
only two major pieces of land that are still recognizable today: South Florida
and Cuba. Even these earliest of explorers saw the indisputable fact
of the relationship that these two places had to one another, and in the
ensuing years the story of Cuba's relationship to South Florida filled chapters
of Spanish American history.
Most of this history was written long before Miami was founded, but it did
not take long after its creation for the city to discover its heritage.
In the 1890's the decade of its founding, Miami was home to less than twenty
native born Cubans. This number hardly serves as a portent for the
dramatic transformation that Miami would undergo in sixty short years, but
events were already unfolding which would draw Cuba and Miami together.
When the decade of the nineties began, Cuba was entering into the final phase
of its long struggle for independence from Spain. As this was escalated,
Cuban patriots began to look north to the Cuban exile communities of Florida
and New York for help. When the revolutionary leader Jose Marti visited
the United States in 1891 he found support and enthusiasm in New York and
formed the Cuban revolutionary Junta there, but when he arrived in Tampa,
by special invitation, he discovered a hotbed of revolutionary fervor
among the Cubans that far surpassed anything he had seen in any other part
of the country. So inspired was he by the reception he received in
Tampa, that during the evenings in his hotel room, he wrote the "Tampa Resolutions"
which would become the basis for the Cuban Revolutionary Party. Key
West where thousands of his compatriots lived also heartened Marti and when
he returned to Cub frequently referred to Key West and Tampa as the "civilian
camps of the revolution."
Between these two hotbeds of revolutionary fervor lay the newly planned city
of Miami. But in the mid nineties, as the revolution escalated, other
events occupied the minds of the citizens of Florida's newest city.
In April of 1896, Henry Flagler's train had reached the city and the plans
were already being made for construction of the finest and biggest hotel
on the east coast. Within a month of the train's arrival came
the first newspaper and within two months, the 343 voters in Miami decided
overwhelmingly to incorporate as a city. There was barely room
in the new newspaper for all the events occurring in Dade county much less
elsewhere. The space that was not given to enthusiastic boosterism
was taken with advertising for land and construction. The population
soon exploded to almost a thousand souls, and the town of Miami was
alive with the sound of hammers cracking on boards. Initially Miamians
learned of the disturbance to the south of them in Cuba the same way most
of America learned about it; through the New York newspapers which arrived
in Miami only two days after they were printed. But their proximity
to the revolution could not be denied, and soon Miamians were learning about
the was more directly.
After a busy day's work of turning campsites into houses and large
lots near the river into a grand hotel, men would retire at night to
play billiards or drink beer which they had smuggled into their "Dry" town
from places such s Woods and Company just north of the city. Of course
there were always stories to tell and by mid-summer the tales began centering
on filibusters in the Caribbean. Two names that often came up in these
stories were Dynamite Johnny O'Brien and Napoleon Bonaparte Broward.
With their coastal running ships these men were providing the final link
in a supply line of ammunition and weapons that stretched from New
York to Cuba via South Florida. News of these exploits came to Miami
either through word of mouth, or telegraph dispatches posted outside the
Metropolis. Every day men would run down to the huge board outside
the weekly paper's office to hear of the latest filibuster.
One excursion that received a considerable amount of attention that
summer was the attempt by Broward's boat "The Three Friends" to rendezvous
with Captain Tuttle's Miami boat, "The City of Key West". The latter had
been making regular runs between Key West and Miami for months, but in early
July a group of Cubans, in an attempt to elude Federal agents patrolling
the waters off Key West, hired the boat. Since everything going
South out of Key West was being stopped, these Cubans decided to book passage
north to Miami on a regularly schedule boat. They planned to
meet Broward's boat the "Three Friends" off the coast of Miami and double
back to Cuba with arms and ammunition.
But the plan failed. Captain Tuttle brought attention to his ship by
departing hours ahead of schedule and leaving several passengers, including
a Metropolis reporter, stranded in Key West. According to observers,
the stranded passengers caused such a stir, and the Cuban passengers
became so jubilant on the prospect of escaping customs agents that they drew
the attention of a government ship which then trailed the boat all
the way to Miami and finally seized it in Florid Bay. Once on board,
government agents found thirteen Cuban passengers as well "as a very large
freight which appear to be ammunition." The government agents also
caught up with Broward who was waiting off the coast with a load of
ammunition he apparently had taken on board at New River. Particularly
nervous and distressed over the capture, reported the Metropolis were A.
W. Barrs of Jacksonville and a "swarthy looking Cuban of short stature" who
had checked into the Hotel Miami the day before. The Metropolis pointed
out that Barrs had been engaged in numerous filibustering expeditions in
the past and probably had something to do with the current one. Together
Captain Broward of "The Three Friends" and Captain Tuttle of "The City of
Key West" were towed back to Key West, the site of the District court and
the Federal revenue office. Around the gathering spots of Miami and
the watering holes to the north of the city, where the story was told over
and over, a consensus on the incident emerged: "If the City of Key West had
left at its scheduled hour and the exultant Cubans had been able to restrain
themselves, the affair would have succeeded unnoticed."
It did not take too many of these stories to convince some im Miami of the
advantages that their fledgling city had in The business of illegal commerce
with Cuban revolutionaries. Soon, all the dynamite that the new phosphorous
plants around Bartow Florida could produce was being shipped to Miami by
train and then by boat to Cuban revolutionaries. Following the contraband
shipments were government agents, representing not only Washington but also
Madrid. Even the newspaper knew about the shipments and reported them
(without names, of course) but the same paper expressed shock and anger when
it reported that a ship was seized in South Florida waters by a Pinkerton
detective who had been hired by the Spanish government. Miamians were
indignant that international agents in their waters had seized men and munitions
that were going to assist "downtrodden Cubans in the fair isle just beyond
the range of our vision". Spain had better leave Florida alone warned
the Metropolis, "She does not own her as she used to, and Florida is a very
recreant child" With foreign agents off its coast, illegal goods in
its harbor, and arms merchants checking into her hotels, Miami within months
of its incorporation was already realizing a part of its destiny.
Along with much of the rest of the nation, Miamians soon picked up the rhythm
of the war beat resonating from Washington and New York.
But they did so with skepticism. Perhaps they felt that filibustering provided
as much a profit as could be extracted from the war, or perhaps they feared
the potential competition if the war ended with the annexation of Cuba.
For many reasons, Miamians demure on the subject of war and their misgivings
probably emanated a realization of Cuba's proximity.
Despite the reservations about the war, Miamians did join the call for a
"Cuba Libre" and the local paper contributed to the country's collection
of yellow journalism. One story, written for the paper by Walter Scot,
could not have had a better audience than the one Miami provided. The
article combined sympathy for the revolution, Victorian values with a Spanish
flavor and the ever present (in the nineteenth century) subtle Anglo-Saxon
racism. Only in South Florida could all these ingredients come together
so easily.
Margarita is the central figure in the story. She is the bicultural
daughter of a wealthy Cuban, exiled to Key West for his politics, and a deceased
"American girl from the South". In describing her as rather dark, with
features "which in a blond would have been rendered insipid", Scot wrote
that her "American characteristics had softened the harsher lines of her
Spanish beauty." Margarita falls in love with Emmanuel Morales, another
exile. The father realizes she is in love and objects. This young
man should be fighting for a "Cuba Libre", he declared, not wasting his life
in "idle courting." He demanded that she tell her lover that "if he
were to win her love, "he must do it with rifle and machete--and at once".
He waited for his daughter to counter assault "with a wild outbreak of feminine
expostulation in defense of her lover. . ." But she didn't, rather
she wept in her father arms and sobbed in silent agreement with him.
"God bless your heart girl, the true blood runs in your veins. You'll
love him better for it." He consoles her. She convinces poor
Emmanuel to go off to the war and of course he dies. In Key West, Margarita
receives word of the tragedy. Running to the sea she feels the cold
night and stars and thinks how cold Emmanuel must be too. The story
takes six full page columns of pathos to tell, and the message is clear.
What is the purpose of all this tragedy? A Cuba Libre!
Soon America did go to war against Spain for reasons of honor, and of course,
for a Cuba Libre. Miamians, who had already been making profits on
the illegal shipment of arms, began to dream about the windfall that would
occur now that the whole operation would be legalized. The Miami Metropolis
printed some of these dreams, and enumerated the advantages that Miami would
have as the principle point of embarkation to Cuba. The newspaper reasoned
that since Miami had a safe land locked harbor, a direct rail line to the
coal fields of Alabama and was the city closest to the seat of war, that
it should be the obvious choice as the military's main point of contact with
Cuba. Despite the newspaper's arguments, Tampa was chosen over Miami.
Perhaps the American military knew what the Spanish Conquistadores had learned
four centuries before, that is, the journey by ship between Tampa and Cuba
is longer but much less treacherous than the journey between South Florida
and Cuba.
Despite this rejection, war fever did strike the Miamians. When rumors
spread that the great Spanish Armada was on its way across the Atlantic,
Miamians were certain that it was headed straight for them, and they began
to see their own vital interests connected very directly to American foreign
policy. Although a major Spanish force might not be able to land on
the shores of Miami, many feared the damage that a well placed Spanish gun
boat might do. Sitting safely off the coast, it could batter the beautiful
new Royal Palm hotel or worse, destroy the great new water tower which was
not only a source of civic pride but a promise of the city's potential.
Miamians also feared damage by sorties of Spanish soldiers sneaking into
the city at night, raiding houses and stores for supplies. It was probably
an inflated sense of self importance which caused these fears but, the government
relented and did authorize the construction of battery works on the bay about
a mile and a half south of the river at Brickell Point. The defense
included two eight inch and two ten inch guns. Judge Ashton organized
a calvary of sixty-four men to represent Miami and when he presented himself
to the governor he learned that enthusiasm for the war had run rampant throughout
Florida. Governor Bloxham received responses for over twenty companies
of men when all he had asked for was the state quota of twelve.
In June, Miami learned that its wish for troops was being fulfilled and late
that month, 7,500 troops arrived. Despite careful preparations made
by the East Coast Railway to provide a comfortable camp, the city was in
no way capable of supporting such a large and rapid influx of people.
A sanitation sewer was built but it did not function correctly so the men
dug latrines which were placed very closed to shallow water wells.
The artesian well which was begun was never completed, and despite warnings
many of the men drank from the shallow water well with dire consequences.
The morale of the troops was also bad. Miami in July is uncomfortable
in the best of circumstances, in 1898 it was unbearable. The general
consensus of the troops was that Miami was nothing more than a wilderness
wrapped around a grand hotel. A month later, when the troops were ordered
to pull out under the threat of a typhoid epidemic they were very happy to
say good by to the magic city.
Of course it would have been impossible for 7,500 single men with weapons
to remain in a place such a Miami without creating some incidents, and this
caused many to question the enthusiasm with which they were initially received.
Julia Tuttle for example, had wanted the troops to come, she had even entertained
officers in her house. But she also became disturbed by the disorderly
conduct of the soldiers. One particularly disturbing night two civilians
were shot by stray rifle bullets as they were sleeping in their tent
at 12th Street and Avenue G. James T. Williams received a deep flesh
wound and E.W. Ramage took a shot in the wrist which shattered the
bone and made amputation necessary. Another day Mrs. Tuttle was shocked
to see that a young soldier had the indecency to commit suicide right in
her garden.
When the troops pulled out there must have been a collective sigh of relief
in the city, but even the departure did not occur without incident.
As the troops were leaving a violent summer storm drenched the area.
A number of soldiers were getting a cold drink and trying to stay at Fred
Rutter's place just south of the terminal when the lightening which had been
flashing all around finally found its mark killing two young soldiers.
One of them, Charles Gill, of Louisiana was buried in the city cemetery with
military honors.
Despite the tumultuous experience the Miami Metropolis saw the entire episode
as a good thing. After all, as a result of the Army's presence, one
hundred acres of land had been cleared, one mile of railroad side track had
been constructed, business had been stimulated, a street was paved and an
artesian well had been started. The paper also pointed out that there
were now 7,500 people who knew about the richness and beauty of Miami.
Never was there a word in the paper of the problems the troops had nor was
there mention of the threatened typhoid outbreak. And the Metropolis
never suggested that many of those seven thousand troops actually did not
leave Miami with fond memories.
The war ended as abruptly as it had started, completed in fact, within the
ending of one tourist season and the beginning of another. Besides
providing some diversion and income during the slow season of summer, the
Cuban Revolution and Spanish-American was established the Miami-Cuban connection,
and midst the excitement of developing a new city, Miamians discovered much
about the relationship with their southern neighbors. They learned
that their proximity made them a natural commercial partner (be it for legal
or illegal commerce) and they learned also, because of this proximity, they
could not remain indifferent or unaffected by upheavals on the island.
Finally, they realized their strategic significance in foreign relations
with Havana, even if it took Washington a few more years to understand it.
America's defeat of the Spanish in 1898 marked the beginning of a new era
of leadership in the Caribbean. The final termination of four hundred
years of history however, did not occur without consequence, and for the
first quarter of this century, political and economic convulsions erupted
throughout the Caribbean causing the United States to send troops into the
area twenty times. This show of military strength was accompanied by
investments of over a billion and a half dollars. Finally, by the end
of the twenties, the Caribbean was relatively peaceful and through an extraordinary
display of guns and money the United States had established hegemony over
the area.
Cuba, being so close to the United States, felt this new force most directly.
During their early years of independence, Cuba experienced American military
or political intervention on at least five different occasions. They
also received about 18% of the total dollars invested in the region.
As the Cuba patriot and poet Martinez Villena wrote:
Nuestra Cuba bien sabe cuan propicia a la caza
De Naciones y como soporta la amenaza
Permanente del Norte que su ambicion incuba
La Florida en una indice que senale hacia Cuba.
Our Cuba knows well when the hunt
for nations begins.
And how the threat which comes from
the north continues,
Even when ambition lies dormant,
Florida is the finger
That points to Cuba. (Translation by author)
The significance of this new area of exploitation was not lost on Miamians.
Immediately following the war a group of Miamians joined other pioneers in
an attempt to settle and annex the isle of Pines off the coast of Cuba.
For twenty years this island remained an American settlement until finally
in 1926 the Supreme Court decided that it belonged to Cuba.
Reporting on the increasing investments and the relative stability which
seemed to be emerging in the Caribbean, The Miami Herald noted that this
news was more significant to Miami than any other city in the country.
The Herald predicted (correctly as it turned out) that when air service was
eventually established Miami would become the gateway to the Caribbean and
Latin America. Hence, the Herald concluded, although the peaceful progress
of Latin America concerns all the United States, it concerns Miami in particular.
The Herald spoke to Miamians who had already experienced the benefits of
the economic boom in the Caribbean. Ever since 1925, when Geraldo Machado
had become president American businessmen had been bullish on Cuban.
When Machado took office he did so on a great wave of good will both at home
and abroad. His promise of judicial, economic and educational reforms
along with his denunciation of the Platt amendment gave optimistic Cubans
hope that democracy would finally flourish on their island. The United
States was equally enthusiastic over the rise of Machado. While visiting
the United States he promised that after four years of his government, "the
capacity of Cubans to govern themselves would be assured". At a banquet
in his honor given by Charles E. Mitchell the president of National City
Bank, he promised that in his administration "there will be absolutely guarantees
for all businesses". Thomas Lamont of the house of Morgan said he hoped
the Cubans would find a way to keep Machado in power indefinitely.
And after another visit to the United States by Machado, the State Department
informed the House of Morgan that they had no objections to a further $9
million loan to Cuba.
There were large amounts of money being funneled into Cuba in the twenties,
and Miamians hoped that much of it would go through and then back to their
city. In January, 1930, Curtiss Wright announced that they were inaugurating
flights to Havana and this spurred further economic speculation. "Cubans
are willing and anxious to trade with Miami firms", reported the Herald,
and to prove it they cited the success that Miami Airplane and Supply Company
had after placing just one ad in a Havana newspaper.
Carl Fisher and Glen Curtiss also hoped than Havana would provide a ready
market for their automobile which they planned to mass produce in Opa Locka.
After sending a prototype to President Machado, they received his endorsement
and promise that the car would be well received in Havana. This was
one more example he said of Miami's "very special" relationship with Cuba.
In 1930 Machado authorized a massive promotion of Cuba in Miami. The
focal point of this campaign was a weekly five page report on Cuba
which appeared in the Miami Herald. Of course this report contained
nothing of the political turmoil which was beginning to brew. Rather
it contained articles on hotels, how to obtain Cuban citizenship, and where
to get information on setting up an import business. It also contained
stories which would make Americans in Miami feel comfortable about their
neighbors. For example, they reported the establishment by Machado
of English language schools within four Cuban High Schools. This was
done, the article reported because "the government realized the urgent necessity
for Cuban youth to learn English."
This promotion was not without benefits. During the Machado regime
investments in Cuba skyrocketed to over $1.5 Billion or an amount equal to
the entire investment in all of South America just after World War 1. 14
Of course this was still during the era of prohibition and illegal trade
with the island also flourished, as canals in Coral Gables frequently provided
pathways for contraband rum and liquor from Cuba.
On January 1, 1931 Pan Am launched regular service between Miami and Havana.
Now with Havana only 2 ½ hours away on a regularly scheduled major
airline, the relationship between the cities solidified. This promise
of a flourishing economic alliance with Cuba caused a group of developers
in Miami led by real estate magnate, Clifford Reeder to begin promoting the
idea that would become known as Interama. This dream of creating a
permanent Caribbean trade fair was never realized, but it remained significant
as a Miami symbol from 1929 when it was first conceived by Reeder until the
early 70's when the only remains of the idea were a few signs along N.E.
163rd Street. The failed entrepreneurial dream defined two dominant
characteristics of Miami: the incessant boosterism of many of its citizens
and also the undeniable influence of its Caribbean roots. In the thirties
it was the burgeoning relationship with Cuba that gave substance to these
characteristics.
In 1933, Miami's economic ties with Cuba drew it into the island's political
turmoil. In the early thirties Cubans were growing increasingly disillusioned
by the failure of Machado to fulfill most of his promises, and in 1931 when
this man who promised no reelections declared that he was extending his term
of office by six years, revolutionary fever broke out. When two former
rivals, Carlos Mendietta and General Menocal joined forces in an unsuccessful
coup, it became clear that the days of the Machado regime were numbered.
The question on everybody's mind was when would the U.S. Army arrive.
There was even a revolutionary party in Cuba (ABC) whose avowed purpose was
to create chaos so that Americans would be forced to come in to restore order.
But the troops did not arrive.
U.S. policy on intervention had changed in the 1920's. An important
turning point had occurred when in 1926 American intervention in Nicaragua
turned into a full scale guerilla war against the folk hero General Agustino
Sandino. The significance of the event was not lost on the State Department
and from then on they determined to develop a policy of influence in Latin
America which did not include a first step the direct intervention of American
troops. The opportunity for State Department experimentation with this
new policy occurred when Machado lost his mandate to rule in Cuba.
The new American policy utilized economic and diplomatic pressure along with
support for exiled leaders. It was this latter group that most affected
Miami during the Spring and long Summer of 1933 when the Machado regime fell.
The new American policy utilized economic and diplomatic pressure along with
support for exiled leaders. It was this latter group that most affected
Miami during the Spring and long Summer of 1933 when the Machado regime fell.
There were two groups of exiles settled in Miami during this period.
First, there were those who had followed the multimillionaire ex-president
Menocal to Miami Beach. This group of followers formed a colony on
the beach near Menocal's stone mansion with a tiled roof on Collins Avenue
at Lincoln. During the early thirties, reporters kept a vigil outside
this estate, noting the arrival and departure of former Cuban ministers and
political leaders. The second exile group in Miami lived at the other
end of the economic and political spectrum. They were radical students
headed by Carlos Prio Soccaras. This group which called itself the
DEU (Directory of University Students) fled to Miami in 1932 when their leaders
Soccaras, Manuel De Varona Loredo and Rubio Padilla also left. The DEU has
been described as the "purest and most cohesive of all the revolutionary
groups" in Cuba at that time. They formed a cell in Miami which had
broken away from a similar group in New York over the issue of American intervention.
Dependency on American intervention, the Miami group maintained, was a fatal
flaw in the policy of every Cuban leader since independence. This group
of separatists became known in Cuba and throughout the American exile community
as the "Miami Cell". They published a four point program which they
circulated both in the United States and Cuba. The plan condemned intervention
and advocated not merely the overthrow of Machado, but the development of
a true democracy completely free from American domination. To accept
American mediation, they protested, ‘was to accept the participation of a
government that is responsible for oppressing us as a people."
The radical views of the DEU kept it outside the mainstream exile community.
They were not the recipients of large donations and actually became a burden
to the city of Miami, living not as distinguished exiles but rather a poor
refugees. These students arrived in leaky boats and huddled in army
camp barracks near the center of town, or cheap apartments like the one at
138 N.E. 11th Terrace.
There had only been a few hundred Cubans in Miami in 1932, but by the following
Spring there were over a thousand poor exiles huddled within a few blocks
of downtown Miami, and like the peasants in the French revolution they gave
force to the revolutionary leadership. This group could be depended
on to provide hundreds of demonstrations whenever an important Cuban or American
leader showed up at Menocal's mansion on Miami Beach, or anytime disturbing
news from Cuba reached the city.
The refugees in downtown Miami were mostly poor, radical and mobbish but
they soon became allies with their more gentile neighbors across the Bay.
Despite their differences there was one issue on which the two very disparate
groups agreed, they both opposed U.S. intervention in Cuba. Menocal
at one time (specifically when he was president of Cuba and even when he
first arrived in Miami) had favored U.S. intervention but he had come to
see the error of this policy. Just as the radicals suffered for adaptation
this position so too did Menocal. When ex Cuban president Carlos Mendietta
(with U.S. encouragement) began to form a government in exile in New York,
Menocal was the only important exile left out of the group. This occurred
in spite of the fact that Menocal was probably the richest and politically
most powerful exile in the United States.
It is hard to imagine an alliance between a ragtag group of student revolutionaries
and the distinguished and wealthy ex-president; however, as Justo Carillo
points out in his history of the 1933 revolution, Menocal and the DEU represented
opposite polls of force which were attracted to each other.
The radicals provided him with spontaneous demonstrations of support, and
in return, Menocal gave them financial assistance. He went so far as
to join with the Pan American League of Miami to put on a benefit for the
refugees at the Biltmore Hotel. The Pan American League was one of
the products of Miami's enthusiasm over the Caribbean connection. Founded
by Mrs. Clark Stearns and supported by such notables as Marjorie Stoneman
Douglass, the League stated as its goal the "Promotion of peace and understanding
among the Americas".
They held luncheons, round table discussions and supported a speakers bureau
and artistic series, but probably their most significant contribution was
providing support to foreign students who were visiting or studying in Miami.
As women and mothers their sympathy for the exiled students went beyond politics,
and one member Mrs. Julia Sproul Baker joined with Menocal to put on a fund
raising affair for them. The guest list (but for a few exceptions)
included the entire list of "Who's Who" in Miami. Among those attending
were Judge Frank Stonemen and Hugh Matheson. Those not attending were
also notable. For example, the mayor of Miami Beach Frank Katentine
protested to the League when they announced his name on a guest list.
He pointed out that the refugees were political enemies of the legitimate
government of Cuba, and since the United States still recognized that government
he felt that his name should not be used to encourage political strife between
factions in any other countries.
If he had been asked, Katentine would probably also have expressed dismay
over the fact that one of the most powerful of Cuba's exiles was holding
court in a mansion on Miami Beach. The mayor was probably expressing
an uneasiness over the situation that many of Miami's entrepreneurs shared.
The feared that the good will being generated between the two cities would
be destroyed if Miami became identified as a center for the overthrow of
the government. Machado was by no means out, and it was he who was
responsible for much of the economic activity between Miami and Cuba.
If he survived this attempted coup, and in February of 1933 there was every
reason to believe he would, Miami entrepreneurs wanted to be sure that he
was still well disposed toward Miami.
The Miami Herald also revealed some of this apprehension. Even though
Judge Stoneman apparently supported the refugees and was still editor in
chief and foreign editor of the Herald, the paper never wrote one word about
the refugees until it was clear that Machado had fallen. During the
exciting months from Roosevelt's inauguration to Machado's fall from power
in August, Miami was a hotbed of Cuban political activity. Exile leaders
met into the early hours of the morning in Menocal's mansion, demonstrations
broke out spontaneously at railroad stations and in front of Menocal's house,
and there was even evidence that guns stolen from National Guard Armories
were being smuggled through Miami to revolutionaries in Cuba. None
of this was ever reported in the Herald. Its absence from the paper
provokes speculation. Perhaps the trial and execution of Chicago's
Mayor Cermak's Assassin was more important, and certainly, Roosevelt's first
hundred days were more newsworthy. But the fact remains that on at
least fifteen occasions the New York Times saw fit to report events that
occurred in the Cuban exile community in Miami, and the Herald did not.
Perhaps there are more subtle reasons for the Herald's apparent indifference
to the Cuban exile community. For one, every Sunday during this unstable
period the Herald was still publishing five full pages of advertising paid
for by the Cuban government. In one of these advertisements which appeared
early on in the struggle, the Herald even printed an announcement from the
Cuban government that Cuba intended to keep her tourists from being bothered
by internal problems. The Herald maintained this tolerant if not indifferent
view even after Machado had expelled the American publisher John T. Wilford
and closed down his paper, the Havana- American. Apparently business
as usual was a higher priority than the principles of journalistic freedom.
Secondly, the Herald represented the business community of South Florida,
not the exiles. This community did not want relations with Cuba harmed.
They certainly felt that the upheaval was temporary, and that whoever won
the struggle would want to continue to develop commercial ties with Miami.
It was best for Miami to remain neutral. As the struggle wore on, this
became a difficult trick, especially during the hot-mid-August days when
Machado's government finally fell, and tempers exceeded the temperatures
in downtown Miami.
In the middle of the night of August 13, Machado realized his regime was
finally over. After leaving a note for his wife to meet him in New
York, he gathered up his five closest friends and advisors. Still in their
pajamas, they flew with Machado in an amphibian Sikorsky to Nassau along
with five revolvers, and seven bags of gold.
The next day it was up to the highest ranking officials, Secretary of State
Orestes Ferrara, to bring the government to a close. Legalistic to
the end, Ferrara searched for The American ambassador and chief negotiator
during the crisis, Sumner Welles, in order to submit his resignation.
Ferrara smelled blood in the streets and feared for his life. He asked
Welles for protection, but the ambassador demurred, stating that the excitement
was merely celebration over the departure of Machado. Ferrara and his
wife left the ambassador's mansion in an open vehicle and when the "jubilant
crowd" recognized him, they quickly turned into an angry mob. Guns
were drawn and pistol shots flew over the head of the former secretary of
state and his wife. Just ahead of the mob, their speeding car arrived
at the harbor where Ferrara and his wife jumped onto a Pan Am clipper ship.
The pilot, Leo Tertlesky, the engines idling and when he heard the mob, he
taxied out into the harbor and as gunshots ripped into the plane he hurriedly
took off leaving fourteen Miami bound passengers, mail and baggage at the
terminal. Machine gun bullets continue to tear at the wings and fuselage,
but no vital parts were damaged and two and a half hours later the plane
taxied safely into the Dinner Key Harbor in Miami.
In Miami, another angry crowd greeted Ferrara. As he stepped off the
plane into the hot muggy afternoon sun, the crowd moved closer. As
he escaped through the canopied walkway into the terminal the crowds yelled
after him. Most of the shouting was in Spanish but interspersed calls
of "murderer", "butcher" and "assassin" could also be heard. When a
reporter asked for a translation a young man answered, "Just imagine the
worst words you know in English". Shaken but indignant Ferrara shouted
from the second floor window of the terminal. As he left the terminal
someone from the crowd shouted in English " will fight you with anything
you big bum!" Ferrara who had fought a number of duels in Cuba ran
to answer the challenge, but was restrained by the police. Then under
heavy guard the ex-secretary of state and his wife drove to the Hollywood
train station where they boarded a pullman for New York.
The following day Miami Cuban refugees greeted Mrs. Machado similarly; however,
this time the crowd was less controllable. Mrs. Machado arrived in
Miami drained both physically and emotionally. After watching her husband
flee for his life the day before, she had taken an armored yacht to Key West.
From there she, along with her daughters and their husbands, boarded a train
for Miami. When she arrived at the Miami Station at 7:30 in the evening
a crowd began taunting her and her family. When police threatened to
disperse the crowd with billy clubs, they resisted by forming a tight ring.
Police reacted with their clubs and arrested ten of the ringleaders.
About fifty of the crowd followed the police and demonstrated outside the
jail for the release of their friends. Among those arrested was Manuel
Mencia, nephew of Miguel Gomez, the former mayor of Havana who had joined
Menocal in the aborted coup of 1931. When questioned by police the
effervescent Gomez replied that there must have been some misunderstanding;
his nephew would never insult Mrs. Machado.
These last demonstrations by the exiles finally blew the cover of tranquility
that Miamians had maintained throughout the crisis. Police Chief Scarburo
told reporters that the patience of his entire force had finally been stretched
to the breaking point. No more demonstrations will be tolerate he announced,
no matter who the demonstrators will be tolerated he announced, no matter
who the demonstrators are sympathizing with. "If they want to fight
and raise hell", he added, "let them go back to Cuba!" He explained
to reporters that during the past five months the city had quietly put up
with hundreds of exile incidents. "They have been pampered for too
long" he exclaimed, "from here on out they will have to take their place
as law abiding residents in the area. We don't believe any group in
Miami should be permitted to submit everybody else in the city to conduct
as has been exhibited there. This situation", he confessed, "has been
embarrassing the police for some time."
In his anger he also let out some information he probably should not have.
For example, he told reporters that "We have definite knowledge that thefts
of machine guns and pistols from U.S. armories have been traced to Miami,
undoubtedly through the activity of some of these exiles [and] the army has
been sent here to investigate."
When the story broke in the Herald there was an immediate attempt to chasten
Scarburo. While Menocal met with Inspector Frank Mitchell and issued
a statement that he (Menocal) would be personally responsible for the conduct
of the exiles, members of the Board of Trade met with Scarburo and tried
to persuade him to retract his statements from the previous day. Scarburo
remained unflinching. "The statement I published yesterday was correct",
he insisted, "I have nothing to retract." However, cooler heads prevailed;
the ten young men were released from jail and the new makeshift Cuban government,
apparently as eager to maintain good relations as most Miamians were, announced
that they were sending a ship to Miami immediately to collect all their citizens.
In reaction to this flood of news, the Miami Herald, eager to establish good
relations with the new government, editorialized that the Cuban departure
was a great loss for Miami. "With the sudden retirement of Machado,"
the editorial began, "Miami had begun to lose her Cuban residents who are
fleeing back to their homeland. Miami was glad to extend her hospitality
to the exiles and sad to lose them." The article concluded on an ironic
yet prophetic note, "Miami's gates will always be open to Cubans, should
the time ever come again when they need a refuge. In the meantime"
the editorial concluded, "our mutual interests will continue to grow".
The thirties witnessed an important turning point in the Miami-Havana relationship.
With the advent of the airplane, travel to Miami became safer and easier
than to the traditional entrepots of Tampa and New York, and competitive
Miami entrepreneurs pursued this advantage aggressively in order to assure
a long lasting commercial relationship with Cuba. Finally, it seemed
the two areas were realizing the commercial and cultural destiny that geography
had established for them. And although Cuba was subject to political
turmoil, Miami business leaders remained resilient: sending cars and invitations
to the dictator Machado on one day and bidding bon voyage and best wishes
to new leaders the next. Miamians remained seemingly impervious to
political convolutions on the island. The benefits of the infinite
commercial possibilities seemed to far outweigh the ephemeral game of politics.
Experienced during the Machado Revolution greatly modified American foreign
policy in the Caribbean. Instead of direct intervention against unfavorable
governments, the United States usually followed a plan of economic pressure,
combined with military threat and support for exiled political groups.
In regards to Cuba, Miami became a participant in this diplomatic formula.
Consequently, after 1933, with each change in government in Cuba, the Cuban
population in Miami increased to a substantial minority, and economic and
cultural ties between the two areas strengthened.
During periods of political upheaval, Miami opened its gates to ex-Cuban
officials with money, regardless of their political beliefs. Not atypical
of these times was Grau San Martin's friend and ministry of education official,
Jose Manuel Aleman who arrived in Miami in October of 1944 with $20,000,000
in his suitcase. Scenes such as this symbolized both the corruption
that plagued Cuban government and the strong economic ties that Miami and
Havana were establishing as they moved closer together in the decades of
the forties and fifties. Havana, only a short flight away, became a
playground for adult games that were still illegal in most of the United
States. Cuba also bragged that it offered the least expensive and quickest
possible divorce in the world.
Most Havana's entertainment operations which included hotels gambling, and
prostitution, were administered in Miami, a safe but proximate distance from
the volatile republic. As a result of this new relationship with Cuba
and the underworld Miami became involved in these enterprise, for example
it became a link in the heroin traffic which flowed from France to Havana
to New York. And when politicians such as Aleman arrived in Miami with
millions of dollars the various mafia run businesses in Miami provided investment
opportunities which would not scrutinize sources of income. By the
mid-fifties, the Department of Commerce reported that investments by Cuban
citizens in the United States had reached $400,000,000, and most of this
money went through Miami.
The tremendous amount of financial activity between Miami and Havana, both
legal and illegal, solidified their economic relationship. It also
changed the city of Miami radically as people such as Meyer Lansky and other
underworld figures began to play a major role in determining the city's future.
But these changes were minor compared to influences that the island republic
would have on the Magic City in the following decades.
In 1952 Fulgencio Batista, the young sergeant who had given the Cubans democracy
in 1940, took it away with a coup d'etat against Carlos Prio, and Miami once
again was swept into the whirl of Cuban politics. After the 1952 coup, Prio
lived in Miami with his millions of dollars. He was the last legitimately
elected president of Cuba and for those with a longer memory he was the idealistic
student leader of the 1933 r evolution against Machado. With these
credentials, many Cubans were willing to forgive his financial indiscretions
while he was president, and recognize his as their leader in exile.
On the morning of May 15, 1957 a group of seventeen supporters of Prio crept
out of Biscayne Bay on their way to begin the revolution in Cuba against
Batista. This small group of soldiers under Calixto Sanchez arrived
on the coast of Oriente where they were captured and summarily shot by the
Lieutenant of Police of the tiny village of Mayari.
This relatively insignificant event marked the end of Prio's claim to leadership
and increasingly support began to fall to the "hero" of the Sierra Madre,
Fidel Castro, and his followers. By December of 1958 Castro had taken
control of the country and early in the morning of January 1, 1959, the first
Castro refugees arrived in Miami.
At first. Miamians accepted the appearance of refugees on the evening news
as rather normal routine. Most of the earliest arrivals had financial
or familiar connections and had made provisions ahead of time. But
very quickly the hundreds of wealthy elite turned into desperate and penniless
thousands. At first, the Cuban Community felt they could handle the
problem with the result that sometimes there were, according to Monsignor
Bryan Walsh, "19 families living in a single family residence". Of
course this was an extreme, but even the average Cuban family in Miami during
this period was sharing a two room dwelling with two additional adults.
When the pressure on the Cuban families became unbearable they went to private
charities, and since it was a familiar institution to the Cubans, the Catholic
Church became the first private organization to tackle the refugee problem.
In late 1959 the Diocese of Miami opened a Refugee center at 130 N.E. 2nd
Avenue.
The Catholic Church also put refugee children into their schools which inflated
the average classroom size to over sixty students. In addition, they
established health care for refugees free of charge at Mercy Hospital.
One of the biggest problems the Church handled in the early days was the
relocation of thousands of children who had been sent by their parents to
America alone. Through Msgr. Bryan Walsh's leadership and the assistance
of The National Catholic Welfare Council, thousands of young children were
placed in foster homes through 47 dioceses in 30 states. The monumental
task of placing these children and keeping track of them was a human miracle
and this event alone deserves a full chapter when the final story of the
Cuban migration is told. In the first months of 1959, the Catholic
Church spent in excess of $200,000 supporting the refugees, but this sum
does not include hospital and educational costs. The amount increased
to $561,000 the next year.
Catholics of Miami soon began learning of the refugee problem in their churches
on Sunday as financially pressed pastors asked for additional collections.
The rest of Miami also began to realize the dimension of this problem, as
the exiles they saw on T.V. began looking less and less like wealthy vacationers
and more and more like the refugees they viewed on the evening news coming
out of East Berlin. This new group of visitors like the refugees of
Communist Europe were bedraggled, confused, hungry and poor.
When the new immigrant arrived off the plane, an inspector questioned him,
and then he received a quick physical. The lucky ones would be approved,
photographed, fingerprinted and released. The unlucky visitor, however
was sent to Opa Locka airport for further questioning. Having survived
this, the immigrant who had no family, found his way to the Catholic Relief
Center where he received a meal and possibly a few dollars with which to
begin his new life.
Although shabby in appearance and almost penniless, these refugees were quite
different than the group of poor workers and students that wandered into
Miami during the Machado revolution. These new arrivals were, as later
statistics verified, decidedly middle class. Typical of the new immigrant
was a man described by then Mayor Robert King High. "My law office
recently required testimony from someone with a background in Cuban law".
Said High, "We were able to reach a former judge, an appellate judge in Cuba
who had served some 30 years. He came to Miami in the middle of 1960.
It was brought out in testimony as to what his present position is and he
stated that he delivers groceries on a part time basis for $18 a week".
These poorly dressed, mentally depressed, uncomely, wanderers were not the
Cubans Miamians had become accustomed to and many were quick to express their
disgust. News commentator Wayne Farriss echoed the opinions of many
when he said:
"Miamians view the Cubans as house guest who have worn out their welcome,
who feel it is now time for them to move on. . . .[The Cubans] are a threat
to our business and tourist economy. It would appear that the
hand that holds Miami's torch of friendship has been overextended"
Rejected in Cuba, poor abandoned by all but the Church and ridiculed by many,
the plight of the first refugees from Castor's Cuba was a sad one.
Had word of this filtered back to Cuba possibly the great flow of humanity
would have ceased. But before the earliest experiences became established
practice an amazing event occurred. The Federal government stepped
in. No longer was the problem of refugees perceived as a local problem
but rather an issue of utmost importance to the national security of the
country.
In the fifties and early sixties as refugees poured out of Eastern Europe,
Americans interpreted the phenomenon as proof of the failure of Communism.
And when the federal government noticed similar numbers coming out of Cuba
they instituted policies which would encourage continued migration and prove
a similar point in the Caribbean. Miami quickly became the latest battle
front in the cold war, the Berlin of the Caribbean, and the refugees were
no longer waifs, but heroes.
Much of this ideological transformation is documented in Senate Hearings
held in Miami in 1961. Senator Phillip Hart from Michigan set the tone
for the hearings when he stated that if the United States was going to undertake
a major refugee assistance program it must be done "in a way that reflects
a conscious understanding that our action in this area bears directly on
our foreign policy".
Local leaders sensitive to the Washington sentiment and eager to obtain funds
for their beleaguered community also picked up the cold war theme.
Congressman Dante Fascell in soliciting funds for education added that in
every classroom time must be taken for a rigid indoctrination program.
And Mayor Robert King High stated that "we can no longer treat the matter
of Cuban refugees as a welfare problem. These people who gave up their
homes, and in some instances their families because of their refusal to knuckle
under to communist tyranny should be allowed to taste the fruits of freedom
(i.e. a comfortable middle class life).
H. Franklin Williams of the University of Miami, seeking funds for refugee
programs being established at his school testified, "[the refugee problem
is] something larger than a Miami community problem we see Miami as the battle
front of the Cold War. . .for the firs time the United States was a country
of first asylum", he pointed out, and "the way in which we handle these people
who had chosen to leave a Communist area was important to the Cold War."
Of course Williams as well as others who testified in Miami were seeking
federal dollars for the community. But the immediate gratification
of large amounts of federal money prevented reflection on long term implications
for the future of the city. The great infusion of federal dollars,
along with the millions of Cuba dollars lying dormant in Miami since the
forties, combined with vigorous new Cuban middle class, to set off an explosion
of entrepreneurial activity in this city such as has never been seen anywhere.
Almost overnight businesses sprang up everywhere. There were at least
a dozen Cuban newspapers printed in 1960 and they recorded the swift Cuban
economic development. On December 30, 1960 the first Cuban theater
opened at 313 West Flagler. It was called Teatro Flagler and its first
show was the French film "Este Cuerpo Tan Deseado". A Cuban employment
agency opened at 223 N.W. 3rd Avenue and in December, 1960 on Miami Beach
at the Old Raleigh Hotel, Mr. Abraham, the old owner of the Dulceria Mignon
del Vedado in Havana, opened what might be the first Cuban restaurant in
the Miami area. "We have Cuban food" Mr. Abraham announced and we speak
Spanish." At seventeenth street and Biscayne Boulevard where the Revolutionary
Headquarters would eventually be established, there was even a man selling
Cuban liberty bonds.
More significant than these first openings, however, was the dramatic transformation
of Southwest Eight Street. Within two years, according to the City
Directory, between Southwest Fifth Avenue and Fifteenth Avenue, twenty eight
street shops changed ownership from American to Cuban.
An Italian American shopkeeper on Eight Street, Sylvan Peterno, put these
statistics into the human terms. After twenty-six years running a shop
on Eight Street, he had to close down and sell out in 1962. [Cuban migration]
is "knocking the hell out of my business", he said, "the Cubans trade with
their own people and we merchants have to take a loss or sell out cheaply
to Cubans. It's unbelievable how the Cuban could push out Americans
in four years time."
The other side of this story of is that the late 1950's Miami was in po or
economic condition. The city had the highest rate of V.A. and F.H.A.
foreclosures in the country, and Eighty street was actually a shabby row
of businesses trying to survive in a deteriorating neighborhood. Also,
those who were living here before the Cuban migration benefited economically
from the influx too. As Antonio Jorge and Raul Moncarz have pointed
out, the influx of money and economic activity had a multiplier effect which
overflowed from the Cuban community to the general economy, and small businessmen
selling appliances, furniture, clothing, used cars and other necessities
of middle class life, shared in Miami's new prosperity.
The major source of the economic stimulus for this activity came from the
federal government. In 1960, the fiscally conservative Republicans
contributed four million dollars in benefits to the refugees, but by 1961,
under the Kennedy administration, expenditures on Cuban refugees increased
to $2.4 million a month. By 1976 from this source alone (Cuban Refugee
Program) over 1.6 Billion dollars were injected into the Cuban community.
In addition, traditional disbursement sources such as the Small Business
Association, began targeting the Latins also. As Professor Raymond
Mohl has pointed out, of the one hundred million distributed by the SBA in
Miami in the early 1970's over half went to Latins.
Overshadowing all government expenditures was the investment made by the
CIA. Through front organizations such as the Zenith group at the University
of Miami the CIA pumped over 100 million dollars into the Cuban community
in the early sixties.
In addition to paying salaries of commandos who spent their money in Miami,
the CIA also added a new dimension to the economy, as weapons production
and importation became a key industry in the area. Miami also provided
a ready army for CIA operations throughout the world. At first this
militia activity was localized. For example these counter-revolutionaries
bombed Paula's restaurant at 435 N.E. First Avenue which was known hangout
for Castro sympathizers and anytime a Cuban official arrived in Miami they
would attack them, claiming they were fighting the communists. But
the government funded anti-Communism grew to such a point that eventually
CIA agents could come to Miami and recruit an army of one to two hundred
Cubans simply by saying they were helping the anti-Communist crusade.
Although this was kept secret, the implications of such a policy became apparent
to everyone as events related to the Watergate break-in revealed that Miami
Cubans had played an integral part in that operation.
This massive influx of federal money from various sources far dwarfed normal
public spending in the city.. For example, in 1959 the budget for the City
of Miami expected no government funding and planned to spend a total of only
$19,000,000 for the entire year. As a result of this commitment, the
American government created the largest refugee relief program in the history
of the country and in doing so, transformed the city of Miami economically,
demographically an politically.
Twenty Five years into this program a historian might begin to ask to what
end was this policy established? If it was to stimulate the Miami economy,
then the government policy was an unparalleled success. Dreams
of economic expansion, that began in the thirties with the first air flights
to the Caribbean, became a reality in the sixties and seventies, as exiled
Cuban businessmen, building on old connections in the Caribbean, made Miami
the acknowledged financial and trading center of the Caribbean. But
if the main purpose was a diplomatic victory over Fidel Castro, the policy
was as complete a disaster as the Bay of Pigs fiasco. For the diplomatic
and economic assault designed to destroy the Castro revolution strengthened
it. First of all, it provided a safety valve for the revolution.
Castro did not have to purge his strongest opponents, he simply let them
go to Miami. Secondly, by opening its gates to the Middle Class, America
was removing from Cuba that segment of the population most necessary for
a successful bourgeois democracy. With only true believers, workers
and the less politically or economically ambitious remaining in Cuba, Communism
became the only political destiny possible for the island. And if the
purpose of the migration was to undermine Fidel Castro; this too was a failure,
for he used his enemies to expand his own prestige. From a demographic
point of view, he has expanded Cuban influence into the Southern United States,
and from an economic point of view he has established a colony which continues
to provide economic support (through money, medicine and clothing sent to
families, telephone income, and at time tourist income) to the Mother country
Cuba.
Why did America embark on such a futile policy? In part the answer
is that this was just one segment of an overall cold war policy. But
also, Miami's history played a part in the evolution of this policy.
In two previous revolutions, against Spain in 1898 and against Machado in
1933, a small group composed of wealthy exiles and poor desperate radicals
used Miami as a base for successful revolutionary operations. There
was no reason to think that 1959 would be any different. Local government
and businessmen lobbied for and supported such a plan because it meant added
income for the city and the federal government pursued it because it had
been successful in the past. What they did not understand was that
the rules the players and the field had all ben changed by 1959. The
refugees were not just the extremely wealthy and the extremely poor, they
were decidedly middle class. And as the statistics for the first years
show, the main goal of the majority of the immigrants was not to foment revolution
in Cuba, but to reestablished the comfortable middle class life that was
taken away from them there. The Senate Hearings on the Refugee program
reveal a large amount of money being spent to retrain, accountants, physicians,
teachers and lawyers so that they might pursue productive lives in the United
States. But most importantly there were new rules to this political
game. Cuba had by American design been thrown into the world political
arena, Cuban-American relations were no longer being played out as an issue
of American hegemony in the Caribbean, but rather as a question of Communism
verses Capitalism. As Kennedy said shortly after entering office, "Our
objection isn't to the Cuban Revolution, it is to the fact that Castro has
turned it over to the Communists".
When this occurred both Miami and Havana became pawns not players and their
destinies were no longer in their own hands. At one time the two important
geographic centers were on a course of economic cooperation and development.
Because of their complementary economic and strategic significance in the
Caribbean, the two cities, Havana and Miami provided a model for Anglo-Spanish
cooperation in the new era of Caribbean trade which the airlines were stimulating.
But due to events over which both sides surrendered control, these two cities
have scorned natural destiny to become sworn enemies. The destruction
of this relationship has become one of the worst casualties of the entire
cold war.
End of Page
Copyright 1998-2006
Cuban Information Archives. All Rights Reserved.
