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The Butcher of Havana


How a drifter from Milwaukee became the chief executioner of the Cuban Revolution—and a test case for U.S. civil rights.

By Tony Perrottet | November 2021

THE ATAVIST MAGAZINE — On the balmy night of April 9, 1959, a little over three months after Fidel Castro and Che Guevara seized power in Cuba, a group of famous international writers gathered in El Floridita, a popular restaurant in Old Havana. They were an urbane set —Tennessee Williams, George Plimpton, Elaine Dundy, and her husband, Kenneth Tynan — and they were expecting to carouse with Cuba’s most beloved yanqui, Ernest Hemingway. Instead, they encountered another Midwestern expatriate, wearing a wide military belt and a hulking .45 service revolver.

Burly and tattooed, the man had rough-hewn good looks. He was in his late thirties — more than two decades younger than Hemingway — and stood five-foot-ten, with thick brown hair and, in the words of his draft card, a “ruddy” complexion. An English journalist later described him as “tall, straight and meanly friendly,” with striking blue eyes that, “yellowing after only a few beers, suggested company dangerous to keep when drunk.” The American’s words tumbled out in the distinctively nasal accent of someone from blue-collar Milwaukee. He pronounced “that” as “dat” and dropped his g’s. He was the uneducated son of Polish immigrants, the type of man one of Williams’s own fictional snobs might have called a redneck.

But if his origins were humble, at El Floridita the man needed no introduction. His image had appeared on the front pages of newspapers across the United States. In fact, after Hemingway, he was probably the most notorious American in the Caribbean. His name was Herman Marks, and he had risen through the ranks of Castro’s rebel army to command the revolution’s firing squads. Around Havana, there were rumors that he had a sadistic streak; his version of a coup de grâce, it was said, was to empty his pistol into a condemned man’s face, so relatives could not recognize the corpse. Marks’s brutal work had earned him a nickname: He was El Carnicero—the Butcher.

The literati peppered him with questions, and Marks responded with pride. He boasted of being second-in-command to Che himself at La Cabaña prison, and declared that he was so busy, he conducted nightly executions until 2 a.m., and sometimes until dawn. He called the proceedings “festivities” and showed off his cuff links made from spent bullet shells.

Marks knew what the gathered writers were really after. It was an open secret in Havana that he invited select visitors to the executions, which were conducted in the empty stone moat around La Cabaña, beneath a giant floodlit statue of Christ with outstretched arms. American politicians, journalists, starlets, and socialites had all made discreet inquiries about watching a firing squad do its work. Williams, whose grandfather had been a minister, forlornly felt that he might comfort a condemned man by offering “a small encouraging smile” before he was shot.

On this particular night, Marks told the group at El Floridita, he had a busy schedule. The prisoners awaiting execution included a German mercenary. “He made the invitation as easily as he might have offered a round of cocktails at his home,” Plimpton later recalled. Marks counted the visitors out: “Let’s see… five of you… quite easy… we’ll drive over by car… tight squeeze…”

Unnoticed by the others, Tynan had been listening to Marks with growing horror, and now the Englishman leapt to his feet and began shouting. According to Plimpton, the red-faced theater critic squinted his eyes and flapped his arms like an enormous bird while denouncing Marks. He didn’t want to be in the same room as an executioner, Tynan gasped, let alone witness his handiwork. He would attend the execution only to run in front of the firing squad to protect the condemned. Tynan then stormed out of the bar, followed by Dundy.

“What the hell was that?” asked Marks. He told the remaining writers to meet him in the lobby of a nearby hotel at 8 p.m. […]

3 Comments on The Butcher of Havana

  1. If I may paraphrase Shakespeare: Men & women strut their stuff on the world’s stage, full of sound & fury, signifying nothing.🙀

  2. Fascinating article. Upon reading this it appears that the revolution in Cuba, a subject I’m not well versed in, more and more resembles the 1954 fake revolution in Guatemala to protect United Fruit’s banana monopoly. Arbenz’s government in Guatemala, while technically on the opposite side of the political spectrum, suffered many similar setbacks to the Cuban Batista regime. For example:
    1. Arbenz and Batista both had huge numerical and logistical advantages to their rebel enemies.
    2. Arbenz and Batista both suffered PR difficulties due to rebel radio propaganda that somehow couldn’t be thwarted. (CIA dropped leaflets also on Guatemala, not sure if they did that in Cuba against Batista.)
    3. Arbenz and Batista both suffered difficulties in diplomacy with the USA, ultimately leading to the USA officially backing their opponents.
    4. Both abdicated their positions quickly with really minimal pushback, like they had a talking to. It appears Batista did in fact have that talk, see below.

    “It can be said that the United States effectively intervened on the side of Castro by working to bring about the fall of Batista… In March 1958, U.S. Secretary of State John Foster Dulles dealt a death blow to the Batista government by refusing to ship 1,950 Garand rifles legally purchased by the Cuban government. It was a mortal blow from which Batista failed to recover.”
    “Speaking before the U.S. Senate in 1960, Ambassador Earl E.T. Smith opined: “Without the United States, Castro would not be in power today.” In a letter published in a September 1979 edition of the New York Times, the ambassador reiterated his belief that U.S. actions to depose Batista amounted to intervention on the part of Castro’s communist cause:

    The final coup in favor of Castro came on Dec. 17, 1958. On that date, in accordance with my instructions from the State Department, I personally conveyed to President Batista that the Department of State would view with skepticism any plan on his part, or any intention on his part, to remain in Cuba indefinitely. I had dealt him a mortal blow. He said in substance: “You have intervened in behalf of the Castros, but I know it is not your doing and that you are only following out your instructions.” Fourteen days later, on Jan. 1, 1959, the Government of Cuba fell.”

    So it appears that the USA, unhappy with Batista, felt that they had a better kakistocrat candidate in Castro. They then enacted their tried and true banana republic coup protocol that worked in Guatemala. The “School of Americas”, now the “Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation”, would sadly export this process across the rest of central and South America. As far as Castro goes, I think he’s an actor. I say that because I now know he was helped into power by the US, but then he spurns them a few years later for their mortal enemy, 90 miles from Key West? Seems unlikely that a world superpower could mess up the situation any worse. Unless it wasn’t a mistake and the crime syndicate wanted a newer, scarier, closer to home bogeyman fake threat for their US audience. After all, fake threats are their specialty.

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