“Is it a secret society?” Butler asked.
“No, Mr. Butler, it is not. However, it is standard operating procedure for a political organization consisting of a political minority to safeguard the names and the number of its members.”
“Well, the Republicans are in the minority,” Butler said. “I don’t see them hiding their membership.”
“The Republicans are not a…well…the Republicans are an established political party representing a great number of people. They represent no radical point of view. They do not have a very violent and sometimes emotional opposition as we do.”
“Oh, I see,” Butler said. “Well, would you say then that the Fair Play for Cuba Committee is not a Communist-front organization?”
“The Senate subcommittees who have occupied themselves with investigating the Fair Play for Cuba Committee have found there is nothing to connect the two…We have been investigated from several points of view. That is, points of view of taxes, allegiance, subversion, and so forth. The findings have been, as I say, absolutely zero.”
Butler asked Oswald if he knew who the honorary chairman of his national committee was. Oswald didn’t, and Butler proceeded to tell him it was Waldo Frank, an avowed Communist, citing the title of an article written by Frank in the publication New Masses back in 1932 titled “How I Came to Communism—A Symposium.” Butler went on to ask Oswald who the national secretary for the FPCC was. After answering, “Well we have a National Director who is Mr. V. [Vincent] T. Lee,” Oswald went on to acknowledge that Lee was under indictment for illegally traveling to Cuba, a fact that Oswald did his best to minimize without much success.
“The Fair Play for Cuba Committee,” he concluded defensively, “is not now on the Attorney General’s subversive list. Any other material you may have is superfluous.”
Slatter broke in to put the focus firmly back on Oswald himself, returning to a matter Oswald had already admitted. “I believe it was mentioned that you at one time asked to renounce your American citizenship and become a Soviet citizen, is that correct?”
“Well, I don’t think that has particular import to this discussion. We are discussing Cuban-American relations.” It was another try to make it back to firmer ground, but they weren’t interested in discussing Cuban-American relations. They wanted to discuss whether Lee Harvey Oswald was a Communist, disloyal to his country, and a member of a Communist-front organization, and none of them were satisfied with what they perceived to be Oswald’s hairsplitting when he said, “I am a Marxist.”
A commercial break brought a momentary respite, but after it Bill Slatter immediately continued the attack, pointing out that even though he agreed that the discussion was supposed to be about Latin American relations, Oswald’s secrecy about his organization meant that “anybody who might be interested in this organization ought to know more about you. For this reason I’m curious to know just how you supported yourself during the three years that you lived in the Soviet Union. Did you have a government subsidy?”
Stunned, Oswald stammered, “Well, as I, er, well…I will answer that question directly then as you will not rest until you get your answer. I worked in Russia…I was not under the protection of the American government, but as I was at all times considered an American citizen I did not lose my American citizenship.”
“Did you say that you wanted to at one time, though?” Slatter asked. “What happened?”
Oswald tried to claim that he never renounced his citizenship, which was technically true, and was never out of contact with the American embassy, which was not, so Butler read from two clippings in the Washington Evening Star, which said that Oswald had turned in his American passport and applied for Soviet citizenship. Oswald effectively replied that his return to the United States was proof that he had not renounced his citizenship.
Bill Slatter finally gave Oswald a break by asking him—at last—about the Fair Play for Cuba Committee. “I would say that Castro is about as unpopular as anybody in the world in this country,” Slatter began. “As a practical matter, what do you hope to gain for your work? How do you hope to bring about what you call ‘Fair Play for Cuba’ knowing this sentiment?”
“The principles of thought of the Fair Play for Cuba [Committee] consist of restoration of diplomatic, trade, and tourist relations with Cuba,” Oswald replied. “That is one of our main points. We are for that. I disagree that this situation regarding American-Cuban relations is very unpopular. We are in the minority surely. We are not particularly interested in what Cuban exiles or…rightist members of rightist organizations have to say. We are primarily interested in the attitude of the U.S. government toward Cuba. And in that way we are striving to get the United States to adopt measures which would be more friendly toward the Cuban people and the new Cuban regime in that country. We are not at all communist controlled, regardless of the fact that I had the experience of living in Russia, regardless of the fact that we have been investigated, regardless of any of these facts. The Fair Play for Cuba Committee is an independent organization not affiliated with any other organization. Our aims and our ideas are very clear and in the best keeping with American traditions of democracy.”
“Do you agree with Fidel Castro,” Bringuier asked, “when in his last speech of July 26 of this year he [described] President John F. Kennedy of the United States as a ruffian and a thief? Do you agree with Mr. Castro?”
“I would not agree with that particular wording,” Lee said. “I and the Fair Play for Cuba Committee do think that the United States government, through certain agencies, mainly the State Department and the CIA, has made monumental mistakes in their relations with Cuba. Mistakes which are pushing Cuba into the sphere of activity of, let’s say, a very dogmatic Communist country such as China.”
The program dragged on for another minute or two, and Oswald managed to make a couple of points, that the American government might have indeed eventually withdrawn its support of Batista but really never supported Castro, and, in answer to Butler’s charge that the Cuban people were “starving,” responded that the “diversification of agriculture”—from sugar and tobacco to products such as sweet potatoes, lima beans, and cotton—was bound to create temporary shortages. Time ran out and Slatter brought the program to a close.1341
Afterward, Bill Slatter asked Oswald to help him make a brief clip that could be used on the television news. They went into a television studio and shot about five minutes of Oswald repeating some of the statements he had made on the radio broadcast. A brief excerpt was used later in the evening.1342
Stuckey would later say, “We finished [Oswald] on that program. I think that after that program the Fair Play for Cuba Committee, if there ever was one in New Orleans, had no future there, because we had publicly linked the Fair Play for Cuba Committee with a fellow who lived in Russia for three years and who was an admitted Marxist.”1343
Oswald was dejected when he came out of the studio, and Stuckey suggested they go for a beer, which Oswald accepted. Oswald let his hair down and spoke with Stuckey as he had with no one since before George de Mohrenschildt left Dallas for Haiti. Before the two young men adjourned to a bar called Comeaux’s, about a half a block from the station, Oswald had been guarded with Stuckey, speaking stiltedly, like a lawyer speaking for the record. Now he seemed relaxed, perhaps relieved that the ordeal of the panel discussion was over.
Oswald talked about Sukarno and Communism in Indonesia, about which he had been reading everything he could lay his hands on, and Stuckey was again struck by Oswald’s intelligence and was of the “impression he had done a great deal of reading.” Oswald’s position was that Sukarno was not a Communist but was using the Indonesian Communists for his own purposes.
The conversation became more personal. Stuckey made a remark about Oswald’s “gawky suit,” and Oswald admitted that it was of Russian manufacture and the Russians didn’t know much about making clothes over there. He went on to talk about his impressions of life in Russia,
which he described as very bland as well as repressive. A protest organization like the Fair Play for Cuba Committee would never have been allowed there, he said.
When Stuckey mentioned the fact that Oswald was not making much headway with his beer, Oswald told him, “Well, you see, I am not used to drinking beer. I am a vodka drinker.”
Stuckey, who had never met a Marxist before, asked Oswald how he became one. From books on the subject at public libraries, Oswald said. When Stuckey asked Oswald if his family had been an influence on him in any way, Oswald said, “No,” a little amused. “They are pretty much typical New Orleans types.”
He had begun to read Marx and Engels at the age of fifteen, he said, but it was his military service in Japan that made him decide for Marxism. Living conditions there convinced him not only that something was wrong with the system, but that Marxism might be the solution. It was in Japan that he began to think about going to Russia to see for himself how a revolutionary Marxist society works.
He admitted that it hadn’t entirely pleased him. Factory life there was pretty much what you would find in an American plant—bad attitudes and a lot of goldbricking. Nepotism. Extra privileges for the bosses. Dishonest, padded production figures. Oswald scornfully observed that there was a sameness to the people—he thought it might be because the Soviets had eliminated too many of the dissenting elements in Russian society and were left, as a result, with a fairly homogeneous population.
Stuckey got the impression that Oswald regarded himself as an intellectual living in a world of clods. He didn’t come across as being offensively arrogant, having more the attitude of someone who is aware of his own intelligence and who rarely found anyone to talk to he regarded as an equal. There was something sad about it too. Stuckey realized that Oswald was gratified that the journalist was paying attention to him, which suggested to Stuckey that not many others did.
They talked for about an hour. Stuckey never saw him again.1344*
Oswald knew by the time he got home that evening his career as an agitator was over. “Damn it,” he fumed to Marina. “I didn’t realize they knew I’d been to Russia. You ought to have heard what they asked me! I wasn’t prepared and I didn’t know what to say.”1345
His career in politics had lasted less than four and a half months. He had started it by passing out some leaflets in Dallas in April. He had distributed some handbills in the vicinity of the USS Wasp in New Orleans in June and twice more on downtown streets in New Orleans in August. He had been arrested, got three inches of coverage in a newspaper, appeared briefly on television twice, and twice, more extensively, on the radio. Although the essence of politics is joining with others of like mind to achieve common goals through weight of numbers, and although New Orleans is a large city and it is certain that some of its residents, in spite of the prevailing atmosphere of anti-Communism, looked rather more favorably on Fidel Castro and his revolution than the press and general public, he had failed to attract one single soul to his fake organization.
The other side of his “political” activity involved his frequent attempts to attract the notice of the Fair Play for Cuba Committee and the Communist Party of the United States of America. And even after the debacle of the panel discussion on WDSU, he made a further attempt to engage the interest of the CPUSA. In a letter dated August 28, a week after the disastrous Conversation Carte Blanche show, he wrote to the party again—this time, not to Arnold Johnson, but directly to the Central Committee, whom he addressed as “Comrades.”
Please advise me upon a problem of personal tactics. I have lived in the Soviet Union from Oct. 1955 [sic] to July 1962. I had, in 1959, in Moscow, tried to legally dissolve my United States citizenship in favor of Soviet Citizenship, however, I did not complete the legal formalities for this.
Having come back to the U.S. in 1962 and thrown myself into the struggle for progress and freedom in the United States, I would like to know weather, in your opions, I can continue to fight, handicapped as it were, by my past record, can I still, under these circumstances, compete with anti-progressive forces, above-ground or weather in your opion I should always remain in the background, i.e., underground.
Our opponents could use my background of residence in the U.S.S.R. against any cause which I join, by association, they could say the organization of which I am a member, is Russian controled, ect., I am sure you see my point.
I could of course openly proclaim, (if pressed on the subject) that I wanted to dissolve my american citizenship as a personal protest against the policy of the U.S. goverment in supporting dictatorships, ect., But what do you think I should do? which is the best tactic in general? Should I dissociate myself from all progressive activities?
Here in New Orleans, I am secretary of the local brach of the “Fair Play for Cuba Committee,” a position which, frankly, I have used to foster communist ideals. On a local radio show, I was attacked by Cuban exile organization representatives for my residence ect., in the Soviet Union. I feel I may have compromised the F.P.C.C., so you see that I need the advice of trusted, long time fighters for progress. Please advise.
With Ferternal Greeting
Sincerely
Lee H. Oswald1346
The Communist Party could, perhaps, have regarded this as an attempt by an agent provocateur to lure them into committing some damaging statement to writing, but whether they did or not, Elizabeth Gurley Flynn, one of the party’s leaders, passed the letter on to Arnold Johnson, asked him to answer, and left it up to him as to what to say.1347
Three days later, August 31, Oswald wrote to a Mr. Bert, managing editor of the Worker in New York.
Dear Mr. Bert
As a commercial photographer I have, in the past, made blow-ups, reverse’s and other types of photo work for the “Worker.” Mr. Weinstock, in December 1962, expressed thanks for my modest work in a letter. Mr. Tormey, of the Gus Hall-Ben Davis defense committee also has commended some photos I did for his committee. I am familiar with most forms of Photo and art work, and other fazes of Typogrohie.
I am sure you realize that…the greatest desire imaginable is to work directly for the “Worker.” However, I understand that there might be many loyal comrades who want the same thing, i.e. to work for the “Worker.” So if you say there is no opening’s I shall continue to hope for the chance of employment directly under the “Worker.”
My family and I shall, in a few weeks, be relocating into your area. In any event I’m sure you shall give my application full consideration. Thank you.
Sincerely
Lee H. Oswald1348
Of course, Oswald had done no work for the Worker or the Gus Hall–Ben Davis defense committee that had been accepted or used. And what was this about moving to New York? The following day, September 1, a Sunday, Oswald wrote to the Socialist Workers Party in New York:
Dear Sirs,
Please advise me as to how I can get into direct contact with S.W.P. representatives in the Washington D.C.-Baltimore area. I and my family are moving to that area in October. As you know, there is no S.W.P. branch in the New Orleans area where I have been living. I am a long time subsriber to the Militant and other party literature of which, I am sure, you have a record.
Thank you
Lee H. Oswald1349
On the same day, Oswald wrote again to the CPUSA:
Dear Sirs,
Please advise me as to how I can contact the Party in the Baltimore-Washington area, to which I shall relocate in October.
Fraternally
Lee H. Oswald1350
It can never be known whether Oswald meant every word he wrote in the above flurry of letters or whether he was trying to provoke responses that he could add to a scrapbook he intended to show the Cuban authorities on his arrival. Curiously, for all his assiduous correspondence with the Communist Party, the Socialist Workers Party, the Militant, and the Worker, he never offered to become an actual member of either party or even, for that matter, ask for information about how h
e might set about joining. He had only joined the FPCC. And as far as anyone knows, he never had any intention whatsoever of moving his family to New York, Baltimore, or Washington, D.C. He may have thought, however, that letters from the SWP or CPUSA suggesting he contact party officials in Washington or Baltimore or thanking him for his application for a job at the Worker would lend weight and credibility to his resumé.
In the meantime, Oswald’s determination to get to Cuba grew hotter than ever. So hot in fact that he now planned to hijack a plane. Around the third week in August, possibly just after his appearance on Conversation Carte Blanche, he told Marina of his plan and informed her that he would need her help. She rejected the proposal out of hand. “For God’s sake, don’t do such a thing,” she remonstrated. It was so ridiculous it was almost funny.
But Oswald was very serious. He started doing exercises to strengthen himself for the caper—deep knee bends, arm exercises, leaping about the apartment in his underwear—much to the merriment of June, who thought he was playing with her. Afterward, he would rub himself down with some strong-smelling liniment, take a cold shower, and emerge red as a lobster. Marina laughed along with the baby. “Junie,” she said, “our papa is out of his mind.” But Lee insisted in trying to drag her into the plot.
They would buy tickets separately under different names, he said. Lee would sit in the front of the cabin with a gun, Marina in the rear with a gun. Once Lee had subdued the pilot, Marina would stand up, address the passengers, and urge them to be calm and cooperative. Marina reminded him that she did not speak English. “That script won’t do,” he admitted, but it barely slowed him down. “I’ll have to think of something new,” telling her to sit on the bed as he left the room. Shortly thereafter, he bounded into the bedroom shouting to her, “Hands up and don’t make any noise!” Marina didn’t think she could handle even that much English, but he told her she could speak in Russian and if she stuck her gun out everybody would know what she meant. He begged her and promised to buy her a small handgun, one suitable for a woman. He had already been shopping around for one.
Reclaiming History Page 136
