Published Wednesday, December 21, 2000, in the
Miami Herald
Court files: Spies had been plotting to sabotage pilots
Cubans wanted to discredit group
By Gail Epstein Nieves. gepstein@herald.com
Even before Cuban MiGs shot down two Brothers to the Rescue planes in 1996,
killing four men, Fidel Castro's intelligence bosses apparently targeted the
Miami pilot group for sabotage and dissension, according to court documents in
the Cuban spy trial.
Declassified communications from Cuban intelligence, read to jurors
Wednesday, showed that accused spy and pilot Rene Gonzalez -- one of five men on
trial -- was directed to burn the hangar and planes of the "counter-revolutionary
organization'' and to make it look like an "accident, negligence or self
damage.''
"Rumors will leak that [Brothers leader Jose] Basulto and his people
caused the damage themselves to collect the insurance and get more money from
their contributors,'' said the undated message, whose author was not revealed.
Operation Picada, or bite, as the anti-Brothers campaign was named, was one
of dozens of missions allegedly linked to the five alleged spies now on trial in
federal court. Picada also means nose dive.
Jurors also heard about orders from Cuban intelligence for someone to mail
an "alleged book bomb'' -- complete with "plastique,'' or plastic
explosives -- to a Miami-based CIA agent. Other missions sought to discredit the
Cuban American National Foundation and Miami's Cuban exile community at large.
The communications were contained on nearly 1,000 encrypted computer disks
confiscated during FBI searches of the defendants' South Florida apartments.
Further testimony about the messages is expected when the trial resumes Jan. 3.
Developers of Operation Picada also directed Gonzalez -- a pilot for
Brothers to the Rescue and alleged double agent -- to disable the group's ground
antennae and transmission equipment "making it seem like negligence.'' The
orders were directed to "Castor,'' one of Gonzalez's cover names, according
to the government.
"Castor'' also was requested to "inform us ahead of time'' of who
was flying Brothers planes and when, and to try to hide material in Brothers
planes.
The documents mirror suspicions voiced previously by Basulto, who has
speculated that Brothers planes were "sabotaged'' several times: cut cables
in an airplane's control panel, a weight attached to the propeller of Basulto's
plane, metal particles in the oil drum of another aircraft.
Basulto has said Gonzalez was the first person at the Brothers' Opa-locka
hangar after the 1996 tragedy. Gonzalez came to the United States in 1990 in a
hijacked crop duster. He is accused of infiltrating exile groups and posing as
an FBI informant.
Cuban intelligence bosses also tried to "discredit'' the Cuban American
National Foundation with Operation Finado, or deceased, according to other
documents read to jurors.
CANF met in July 1998 to choose a successor to chairman Jorge Mas Canosa,
who had died. The communications show that U.S.-based Cuban agents were directed
to mail disparaging, anonymous flyers on possible candidates to some 40 people
and media outlets.
"Who are you voting for as Chairman of the CANF?'' the flyer was to
start.
It listed disparaging accusations against Jorge Mas Santos, Dr. Alberto
Hernandez, Pepe Hernandez, Diego Suarez and Domingo Moreira Jr., and ended, "Who
should you vote for? Vote for the Finado.''
The five co-defendants -- accused members of the so-called Wasp Network --
were arrested Sept. 12, 1998, in the culmination of a major counterespionage
investigation.
Lead defendant Gerardo Hernandez faces the most serious charge: conspiracy
to murder the four Brothers fliers, allegedly by providing Cuban authorities the
flight plan of two Brothers planes while instructing other spies to shun the
doomed flight.
Though all of the accused spies acknowledge working on orders from Havana,
they deny ever obtaining classified information or intending to harm U.S.
interests.
They say they were trying to identify the exiles presumably responsible for
a series of bombings at tourist sites in Cuba and to find out if the United
States had plans to invade the island.
Cuba blasts naming of exile to HUD
Renato Pérez
The Cuban press reacted virulently Wednesday to President-elect George W.
Bush's appointment of a Cuban-born politician to the post of U.S. secretary of
housing.
The official news agency Prensa Latina reported that the nomination of
Orange County Chairman Mel Martínez to the Cabinet post was payback for "the
help [Bush] received from Cuban Americans in Florida, who helped him defeat his
Democratic rival, Albert Gore.''
The agency describes Martínez as "a rabidly anti-Cuban
Republican'' and "an unconditional ally of the Bush family'' who is "one
of the political hacks in Florida's Cuban communities.''
Bush "stole the election, an act of fraud that bore the fingerprints of
the extreme right of Florida's Cuban community,'' the report said.
According to Prensa Latina, Martínez's nomination settles "Bush's
debt of gratitude toward [Florida Cubans], the only Hispanics who voted in bloc
against Gore because the Democratic administration authorized the return to Cuba
of the kidnapped boy Elián González.''
Martínez "demanded the government of William Clinton and Gore to
allow the boy . . . to remain in the United States, despite the opposition of
the boy's father, a resident of Cuba,'' the agency said.
Martínez himself "was removed from Cuba in 1962 at the age of
15, one of 14,000 children extracted from the island by the Central Intelligence
Agency, the U.S. State Department and the Catholic Church hierarchy in the
so-called Operation Peter Pan,'' the report said.
Delgado views Miami stage with caution
By Jordan Levin. jlevin@herald.com
Shortly after Issac Delgado opened the doors for Cuban bands in Miami with a
euphoric, ground-breaking club show in the spring of 1998, he talked
enthusiastically of changed attitudes and even playing Miami's Calle Ocho
festival.
Two and a half years later, after 1999's tense Los Van Van concert and the
Elián González saga, Delgado is still optimistic -- but more
cautiously so -- about acceptance by both Miami exiles and American audiences.
"A lot has happened in the last two years, on both sides,'' Delgado
said by phone from Cuba last Friday.
In fact, Delgado had planned to leave Miami off his eight-city U.S. tour --
which includes stops at the South Beach club Starfish this weekend and on
Christmas -- until he heard that concerts by fellow Cuban group La Charanga
Habanera went off without incident last month.
"I thought there would be a demonstration against us, and I didn't want
to risk the musicians' safety,'' Delgado said. "I think when we [Cuban
musicians] first arrived in Miami there was a lot of nostalgia, and we thought
that music could change people's political feelings and take away from the
tension.
"We still feel that. But we don't think we can play Calle Ocho right
now, though we still think we can do it eventually.''
Delgado has been one of Cuba's most popular singers since going solo in
1991. His rich voice and smooth, more classic salsa sound set him apart from the
mainstream of Cuba's hardcore 1990's timba and moved him closer to a more
international style (evidenced by the fact his early hit Necesito una amiga [I
Need a Girlfriend] has been covered by artists outside Cuba).
In 1996 he was one of the first Cuban musicians to play in the United
States, earning glowing reviews and a contract with New York-based RMM Records,
a top independent tropical label.
But two years later, when the success of the Buena Vista Social Club and its
spin-offs took Cuban music in a different direction and Delgado's RMM contract
expired after three albums, he went back to his base on the island and was
rewarded with the monster hit La vida es un carnaval (Life Is a Carnival), a
steady-rocking party starter that was first recorded by Celia Cruz.
Now he has a new release on the California-based Ahí Namá
label and is hopeful that the sounds of nostalgia have paved the way to success
for contemporary Cuban music.
"The triumph of the Buena Vista Social Club has been a big step,
because it's opened a space for us,'' Delgado said. "It's Cuban music above
all. I think that after Buena Vista and Ibrahim [Ferrer] and Omara [Portuondo]
and the Grammy for Los Van Van, people are starting to understand Cuban music,
and they will begin to buy our music.
"You can call it nostalgia, but for me it's simply the music of Cuba,
and it's the same. Their music has many of the ingredients of contemporary
music, and our music has all the ingredients of the older music.''
And old or new, that music appeals to people on both sides of the straits,
which is why Delgado remains convinced that music can build broader cultural
bridges between Miami and the island.
"We've gone 40 years with no official relations. But we as artists are
the reflection of a people and a culture,'' he said. "What is most
important is that people hear our music, because it is the most beautiful and
the most logical way to unite people.
"There will continue to be political conflicts. But we will keep making
our music, and I think that will be the only way we can understand each other.''
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