By José Luis Méndez Méndez* / Special Contribution for *Resumen Latinoamericano*
The conspiracy in Bonao aimed to coordinate future actions against Cuban missions, their personnel, and the interests of countries that—despite U.S. pressure—maintained relations with the Cuban government. Two meetings took place: one to establish the so-called Coordination of United Revolutionary Organizations (CORU), a terrorist alliance, and another to plan more than twenty acts of terror slated for immediate execution. Everyone present signed the agreement, except for members of the fascist group Cuban Nationalist Movement (MNC); they claimed to have an operation already underway—ordered by Chile’s National Intelligence Directorate (DINA)—which, as later revealed, was the assassination of Chilean resistance leader and former ambassador to Washington, Orlando Letelier del Solar, scheduled for September 21, 1976.
The manipulated pretext regarding Cuba’s internationalist involvement in Angola has a backstory: Cuba was blamed for derailing secret talks—suggested by Henry Kissinger and held since early 1975 between representatives of the island and the Gerald Ford administration. In reality, however, U.S. advisors were already stationed in Angolan territory, working in collusion with South Africa’s racist regime to prevent the Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA) from securing independence from Portugal, while offering counsel to other belligerent organizations aligned with U.S. interests.
On August 9, 1974, Republican Gerald Rudolph Ford arrived at the White House; having benefited from political scandals, he had become President of the United States overnight. This administration, which lasted just over two years, marked the most virulent period in the history of attacks against Cuban diplomatic missions and offices abroad.
Terrorists carried out 202 acts of terror across twenty-three countries—including the United States, where fanatics employed terror on 113 occasions against public and private U.S. entities. On average, a bomb exploded every five days, bringing with it fear and causing both human casualties and material damage.
In early 1975, secret talks began in New York between representatives of the United States and Cuba aimed at easing bilateral tensions. These discussions commenced on January 11 but were suspended by the U.S. side after November 15, following an increase in Cuba’s solidarity-based support for the consolidation of Angolan independence—a movement led by the People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA). Angola had recently broken free from Portuguese colonial rule but faced threats from other warring factions vying for power with the backing of the then-racist South African regime. This period saw the launch of Operation Carlota, named in honor of Carlota—a Black woman who had risen up, machete in hand, leading a group of slaves in a fight for freedom on that same date in 1843. On November 7, the first contingent of eighty-two fighters arrived aboard a Cubana de Aviación Bristol Britannia BB-318 turboprop aircraft.
U.S. policy was characterized by remarkable hypocrisy and a double standard: while building bridges toward détente, the U.S. allowed anti-Cuban terrorist groups to operate with impunity. These groups were viewed as a source of leverage to secure a more advantageous negotiating position. There has been speculation regarding the likely autonomy of those groups, which theoretically operated with the knowledge and tolerance of various government agencies.
On December 20, 1975, the U.S. Senate officially cut off funding for counter-revolutionary groups in Angola; President Ford exclaimed: “The Cuban government’s action of sending combat forces to Angola destroys any opportunity for improved relations with the United States.” Two days later, in response to this U.S. interference in the internal affairs of a free, sovereign, and internationalist country like Cuba, Cuban leader Fidel Castro stated at the closing of the First Congress of the Communist Party of Cuba: “It is curious that the President of the United States, Mr. Ford, threatens us with that. In the past, when there was a sugar quota, they eliminated it; when there was trade between the United States and Cuba, they eliminated it; but now they have nothing left to eliminate, so they are eliminating hope. This could be called ‘the embargo on hope’ by the President of the United States. He has effectively placed an embargo on something that does not exist. If having relations with the United States requires renouncing this country’s dignity and renouncing this country’s principles, then how can one have relations with the United States?”
In an attempt to garner support from the Cuban-American mafia in Florida—and secure donations for his political ambitions—the U.S. president declared at a primary election rally: “[…] the Cuban regime is acting like an international bandit.” Meanwhile, Kissinger stated: “We oppose and cannot accept any further Cuban military adventure. I am not saying what we would do in a specific set of circumstances.” Compounding this situation were the geopolitical interests of the Carlos Andrés Pérez administration in Venezuela; Pérez aspired to become a regional political leader, hoping this role would propel him toward hemispheric leadership positions once his term ended.
On November 1, 1972, he was released under supervised liberty—a condition he violated in April 1974. When the highest authority in Florida—at a time when anti-Cuban terrorism was surging uncontrollably within the state, harming U.S. citizens and interests—interceded on behalf of a terrorist imprisoned for dozens of acts of terror (including public death threats against the leaders of Britain, Mexico, and Spain), what hope was there for the administration of justice or for deterring such criminal practices?
Amidst this political landscape, the fugitive Orlando Bosch—who had arrived in Caracas in mid-1974 and subsequently violated an agreement not to commit acts of terror in Venezuela—was arrested, and his deportation was proposed. An offer was made to return him to the United States, from which he had fled while theoretically still on supervised release; however, the U.S. Department of Justice refused to accept him, with officials arguing that, as an émigré of Cuban origin, it was better to keep him outside national territory. No country approached agreed to take him in, so an official offer was made to the United States. The State Department showed no interest in extraditing him, despite his status as a fugitive from justice for violating parole. Their response was: This émigré is “an undesirable citizen who has no legal status in this country.”
Arrangements were then made for Bosch to stay temporarily in Curaçao, and in December 1974, he settled in Chile. The support shown by U.S. politicians for Bosch’s misdeeds had a shameful precedent: in 1972, while Bosch was imprisoned, the then-Governor of Florida, Claude Kirk, took steps to secure his release—even though Bosch was being held in a maximum-security prison as a terrorist. Addressing a group of business leaders from the Latin Chamber of Commerce at a dinner, the governor stated: “When I think of free men seeking to liberate their homeland, I inevitably think of Dr. Bosch […] I am actively working to get him released, and I believe I will see results soon.”
Through his actions, the U.S. public official sent a clear message of support to law-breaking terrorists within his jurisdiction: “Take action; you have my backing.” The deceptive stance taken by the U.S. Departments of Justice and State in 1974 should not mislead us; the issue was not about denying entry to a terrorist or avoiding a potential problem on U.S. soil. In reality, the goal was to protect him—keeping him outside the country to allow him to operate now that he had launched his crusade against Cuba in the so-called “War on the World’s Roads.” It did not matter that he was a parole fugitive or that his actions harmed the interests and citizens of friendly nations—U.S. allies—or even U.S. citizens themselves; any such harm would merely be “collateral damage”—an inevitable consequence of armed conflict according to the U.S. narrative that would become commonplace decades later.
Why, then, was there no outcry from the so-called Cuban exiles demanding that Venezuela release Bosch and that the United States grant him protection? This stands in stark contrast to the following decade, when he was welcomed with the backing of extremist organizations and the influence of politicians of Cuban descent, alongside the approval of then-President George H.W. Bush. In both historical instances, the group in question was *Poder Cubano* (Cuban Power)—a faction of violence-prone fanatics that detonated more than seventy bombs in various U.S. cities between January and November of 1968.
This background reveals the origins and planning of the heinous crime conceived and carried out in the skies over Barbados.
Cover photo: Orlando Bosch and Posada Carriles—self-confessed terrorists—celebrating their crimes from Florida.
(*) Writer and university professor. He is the author of books including *Bajo las alas del Cóndor* (Under the Wings of the Condor), *La Operación Cóndor contra Cuba* (Operation Condor Against Cuba), and *Demócratas en la Casa Blanca y el terrorismo contra Cuba* (Democrats in the White House and Terrorism Against Cuba). He is a contributor to *Cubadebate* and *Resumen Latinoamericano*.
