But in political terms, the encounter had much larger significance. It was, of course, a chapter in the Cold War, one of many cases in which that confrontation turned violent. Its particular form, however, stemmed in large measure from Washington's determination, reached during the Kennedy years, to develop an effective means of containing guerrilla wars that threatened the stability of U.S. allies. Six years earlier, the Bay of Pigs invasion, intended to topple Fidel Castro's regime in Cuba, had resulted in a humiliating disaster not only for the invading force of Cuban exiles but also for President Kennedy and his administration. It caused Kennedy to insist on finding new means to fight limited wars.
By 1967, those efforts may have gone horribly wrong in Vietnam, but they had not in Bolivia, where the precepts outlined earlier in the decade by Kennedy's staff were remembered. That the conflict there remained insignificant in terms of arms is a testimony in part to the soundness of the "limited warfare" concepts developed after the Bay of Pigs debacle and a tribute to the individuals who carried them out. The insurrection in Bolivia never became another Vietnam, as Guevara hoped it would, partly because the Americans, despite Bolivian panic, did not lose their nerve, did not pour in massive amounts of equipment, and did not permit U.S. personnel to be involved in the actual fighting. The only exceptions, if indeed they are exceptions, were the two Cuban-exile intelligence officers working for CIA and serving with the Bolivian forces.
In Bolivia in 1967, American determination to control brushfire wars confronted Guevara's determination to create a continental revolution, and in this Guevara represented a distinctly Cuban point of view, one that caused enormous concern not just in Washington but also in Moscow. At a time when the Kremlin looked to "peaceful coexistence" as the best and certainly the safest means of spreading Marxism, Havana insisted that violent revolution was the only means of breaking the influence of the "neoimperialist" powers, especially the United States. Guevara, a principal theoretician for the Havana viewpoint, propounded ideas that essentially reflected the actual Cuban revolutionary experience of 1956-59. He believed that a successful revolution must begin in the countryside—the mountains if possible—not in the cities. Any number, no matter how small, could begin it, keeping a low profile while they accumulated recruits, then increasing their daring and their numbers as the movement gained notoriety through its exploits. Along with Castro and all of the leading Cuban revolutionaries, Guevara believed that even after victory the guerrilla army must dominate the revolution and control the political party, not vice versa.
Cuban revolutionary theories represented a significant revision of standard communist doctrine, creating a constant strain in Havana's relations with Moscow. Further, the Cubans, led by Guevara in the field, tried out their theories in the Congo. Although that endeavor failed totally, it did so for reasons that did not necessarily invalidate their concepts of revolution, except in one way: Guevara and the entire Cuban leadership maintained a monumental disregard of local conditions, politics, and sensitivities in both the Congo and Bolivia. They believed the imperatives of Marxist revolution to be so strong and so obvious that populations living in difficult circumstances would flock readily to the banner of rebellion. They failed in both places for very different reasons, but in both cases they were blinded to local conditions by their own faith and dogma.
In Bolivia, the American theory of counterinsurgency and the Cuban theory of revolution met head-on. That, in addition to the presence and death of one of the world's major guerrilla leaders, constitutes the real historical significance of the confrontation. We will look more closely at all of these issues, but first let us consider the main personality in the conflict.
The Road to Revolution: Che Guevara
