Ever since I had the use of reason, the name Jesus Christ was one of the most familiar in my house and in school during my infancy and adolescence. I never saw a contradiction between the ideas that sustain me and the ideas of that symbol, of that extraordinary figure . . .
This may not seem to be the most stirring spiritual testimony on record--but consider the source. The words are those of Cuban President Fidel Castro, whose Communist regime has expelled bishops and priests, eliminated church schools, made it difficult for practicing Christians to get government jobs and even discouraged the observance of Christmas because it impeded the sugar- cane harvest. Pronouncements on faith, however, surface regularly in Fidel and Religion: Conversations with Friar Betto, just published in Cuba with Castro's own imprimatur. It is proving to be an instant hit: when the 379-page volume went on sale in Havana bookstores three weeks ago, lines of purchasers stretched for blocks.
The book is drawn from 23 hours of interviews Castro gave last May to Friar Betto, 41, born Carlos Alberto Libanio Christo. The author, a Dominican brother in Sao Paulo, Brazil, is a leftist churchman who served four years in a Brazilian prison for sheltering anti-government guerrillas. He embraces liberation theology, which offers theological support for resisting political and economic oppression and is usually based on Marxist analysis.
Fidel and Religion offers some rare glimpses into the Cuban leader's youth. He was raised in Oriente province, a region that had no resident priests, but his childhood home was full of religious objects. His mother was a "fervent Christian" who prayed daily and lit candles to the Virgin Mary and the saints. His father, a well-to-do farmer, had no time for religion. Castro was not baptized until he was five or six, but all his education until university was in Roman Catholic schools. "If someone were to ask, 'When did you have a religious conviction?' I'd say I never really had one," says Castro. "In school they weren't able to inculcate me with those values."
In the book, Castro basically views Christianity as useful for revolution. Disagreeing with Karl Marx, he does not think religion is necessarily the opiate of the people. That depends, says Castro, on whether it is used to defend the rich. He sees great promise in Latin American Catholicism's shift from a traditional alliance with "oppressors" to greater concern for the poor. Says he: "There are 10,000 more coincidences between Christianity and Communism than there could be with capitalism." Liberation theology, he exults, is "a re-encounter of Christianity with its roots, with its most beautiful, heroic and most glorious history." He also calls it "one of the most fundamental happenings that have occurred in our epoch."