Haruko Hosoda, Castro and Franco: The Backstage of Cold War Diplomacy. London and New York: Routledge, 2019. 137 pp. ISBN: 978-1-138-34317-7
The Japanese historian and diplomat Haruko Hosoda has written a short book with a question in mind: why did socialist Cuba and Franco’s Spain – a conservative and national-Catholic dictatorial regime that had been friendly with the Axis powers – maintain good relations during the Cold War? To answer this, the author argues that the East–West divide was not always the alpha and the omega in the world of the Cold War and gives agency to both Cuba and Spain as independent states in terms of foreign policy. Hosoda draws from some of the latest interpretations of the period and contributes to the growing body of international and global histories of the Cold War that see beyond the US–USSR conflict, thus painting the picture of a multipolar world.
Hosoda’s approach personalises her argument and focuses on the figures of Fidel Castro and Francisco Franco, placing them at the centre of their countries’ relations. The first chapters focus on what Hosoda identifies as elements in common between both leaders: their Galician roots (chapter 2), the influence of the Spanish Civil War and of guerrilla warfare in both of them (chapter 3), Castro and Franco’s relationship with Catholicism and the Church (chapter 4), and a common anti-Americanism (chapter 5).
The attempt to draw conclusions from the sparse links between both leaders, which often seem to be not much more than anecdotical, probably undermines the strengths of Hosoda’s argument, which is at its best when she uses – sometimes unpublished – sources from Spanish and Cuban diplomats, from the backstage. An interesting contribution is the incorporation of the Vatican into the story, which draws from original archival research. Also using new sources, Hosoda demonstrates the initial fascination of the Spanish ambassador in Cuba for the figure of Fidel Castro and his recommendation to the Spanish foreign ministry to not fully support Batista, as he saw his regime as brutal and corrupt.
Throughout, the author’s analysis seems to have a temporal gap, as the narrative mainly deals with the early years of the Revolution and, in a later chapter, the years after the death of Franco (1975). This is especially problematic when dealing with religion, as Castro might be portrayed in the book as much closer to Catholicism than what revolutionary policy of later years might show. In general, this work paints a rather pragmatic portrait of Castro, who is sometimes depicted as de-ideologised, a view that requires more context when considering the abundant literature that claims the exact opposite in most issues regarding foreign and national policy.
After the death of Franco, Hosoda incorporates other Spanish leaders in the narrative, such as Adolfo Suárez and Manuel Fraga, as well as all the later Spanish presidents, from Felipe González to Mariano Rajoy. The focus on these big personalities can overshadow elements like economic and commercial issues, which should have been discussed at length to understand why the two countries maintained strong relations over the years and that needs to be dealt with more detail. Although the analysis might be incomplete from a more general point of view, by focusing on diplomacy the author provides an up-to-date assessment of the scholarship around an issue that had never been addressed in a full-length book, albeit a short one.
Hosoda’s book might not be a definitive and comprehensive analysis of the relations between revolutionary Cuba and Spain, but it is certainly a complete summary of the diplomatic history around it that also provides substantial original contributions. The renovated global history of the Cold War does not only advance with sweeping volumes that encompass the whole period; it is normally books like this that help fill gaps in our wider arguments and find previously unexplored nuances.