March 31, 1961: The Last Dramatization of the Passion of Jesus
The last time the Dramatization of the Passion of Jesus was staged in Güines, it had the character of a real tragedy—not only historic—because it ended under a barrage of shots, with a lot of wounded and a great deal of arrested people.
Following the customary process, the Organizing Committee requested from the Municipality the proper permit to carry out the Dramatization. Despite the delay in receiving a response from the Municipal authorities, the preparations proceeded normally. At last, when only hours remained, the requested permit arrived. By then, some clandestine defense groups had been formed to protect the Dramatization. Although the Organizing Committee did not authorize this defensive method, it looked favorably to the preparation of some sort of protection for organizers and actors, in case that any problem would arise.
Prior to that, for many days, we had received threats that we would be kidnapped, that the members of the cast would be shot in the cross, that the actors would not be alive on the day of the Dramatization… From our part, the only thing that we were thinking of was the need to carry out the performance, because it would constitute a vigorous and public repudiation of the Communist system.
During all of Holy Thursday, while we were finishing the last details of the sets, helping Efrén del Castillo and Alejandro Asís, my good friend René Alvarado did not leave me alone, with his mind set in protecting me. I remember that that evening we took a break to have dinner at El Primo (The Cousin) Restaurant. Seated at the table were Rafael Becil, Erasto Morales and his wife Alina, Julio Troya and myself. It was around ten o’clock when some unknown persons approached Erasto and asked him:
"Are you the one who plays Pilate?"
Erasto answered affirmatively.
Then they replied:
"We believe that tomorrow you will not play it".
Erasto, at the beginning thought those words were a joke but after reflection, realized that they were a serious threat, and he told us who were with him, his fears. He also told us, that those unknown persons had asked him who played the role of Jesus and if the actor was there among us. This incident was proof that the repressive police had decided to break up the dramatization that Holy Friday, using violent methods.
The following day, early, there was an air of tension and nervousness. My wife, my mother and all my relatives were afraid of what could happen to me. I, differing from them and trusting God, was very calm. During the first hours of the morning we went to the Catholic Cultural Hall (Parish Center), which was the center of reunion of all of us who participated in the drama. There, we submitted ourselves to the rigors of the make-up procedure.
The Passion process started to take shape before ten o’clock, and at that time we arrived at Pontius Pilate’s Tribunal. In that place, behind the sets, there were René Alvarado and my uncle Mongo Vargas, who thought that if some disturbance or breach of the peace would occur, they could easily rescue me. It looks like—and I firmly believe so—God placed His hand in the events of such dangerous moment.
The shooting started before I was placed on the cross, although the circumstances in which I was, were not less exposed. In Pilate’s Tribunal, I was tied to a column, while I was being flagellated. The noise of the shots and the staccato of the machine guns were expected surprises for me. Immediately, Tony Marín, who was one of Pilate’s helpers, Mongo Vargas my uncle, and René Alvarado came to my rescue. Breaking one of the walls that divided Pilate’s set from the hardware store El Candado (The Lock) and without knowing where to go, they took me to the nearby clothing store La República (The Republic) where, due to the kindness and bravery of its owner, Mr. Evelio Estévez and his wife, we were able to hide. We spent hours of anguish there, waiting for the Government’s agents to come and arrest us. From there, we watched how the people, shouting: Long live Christ the King! were dispersed and were bravely resisting in the main square, while a powerful and surging murmur, like the waves of an enraged sea, repeated the slogan: Cuba, yes, Russia, no!
But they did not arrest us. The Marxists wanted to give the impression that the organizers of the Passion and its participants had full cooperation and backing from the Government and that the perpetrators of the disorders were counterrevolutionary elements.
Three buses full of arrested persons left for Havana. Among them, there was Henio del Castillo, a very skilled photographer, who took very good pictures of the tragic events of Güines. Understandably, these pictures were never published.
One of the most memorable moments recorded in the history of this date was the protest staged by Major Raúl Díaz, who, in a heroic gesture, ripped off his military stripes, saying that he had not fought to have the authorities commit outrageous acts and abuses against the people, like the ones he had witnessed.
The people of Güines showed its integrity and deeply rooted faith in this occasion, a reminder to us, of the Budapest rebellion. Had I not been a participant in this event, I would have wanted—with joy and pride—to be one of the people from Güines that on that Holy Friday, cried out under the bullets and with their lives in danger: Long live Christ the King!