52 SMITHSONIAN.COM | November 2019
American approach. There is no forgiveness for Cuba! The
idea that one little island can stand up to the empire, to resist
the waves of U.S. infl uence crashing over Latin America, can-
not be pardoned.” After an hour or so of such haranguing, he
apologized that the study center was closed for renovations
due to a 2018 fl ood. When I asked if I could go upstairs and
peek into Che’s study, Camilo froze: “Oh, no, you need proper
credentials for that.” He said I would have to return to New
York, secure a journalist’s visa and a Cuban press pass.
The study seemed harder to get into than the Vatican. Still,
a month later, I dutifully returned with expensive visa and
credentials in hand. This time, Camilo was happy to show me
around the center, whose mix of concrete and wood gives it a
vaguely Pacifi c Northwest air. The space was currently being
used as a children’s day care facility, but barring more natu-
ral disasters, in 2020 it will display unseen family artifacts,
photos and home movies. It will also house Che’s personal
archive, including such treasures as the typed manuscript
of The Motorcycle Diaries and a copy of his original war diary
from Bolivia, which was smuggled out of the Andes on micro-
fi lm in 1967. The center con-
tinues to produce Che texts
with an Australian publisher,
Ocean Books. But it remains
wary of outside researchers.
“Some historians set out to
deliberately denigrate Che’s
personality,” Camilo said.
“They are fantasists! They
come in here looking for
documents that don’t exist.
But history is not a chunk of
meat that you can grind up
and turn into chorizo!”
When I asked him about
Che’s legacy, Camilo launched
into a speech whose passion-
ate socialism and critique
of unbridled capitalism would
have impressed Fidel. “Che’s
life gives us hope,” he said. “It
was an act of solidarity with
his fellow human beings. Peo-
ple have forgotten today that
to be human is to be part of
the human race. We’re not ele-
phants, tigers or lions that can
face the world alone. We need
to work collectively to survive.
The planet today is being de-
stroyed. It’s not volcanoes or
earthquakes that are doing it.
We are doing it ourselves! The
world can be a better place.
And human beings have to
fi ght for that!” Consumer-
ism is part of the problem, he
said. “Life has to have some
meaning. What is the point
of spending your days on an
enormous sofa, in an enormous house, surrounded by televi-
sions? You’re going to die anyway! In the end, what did you
leave? People are losing the capacity to change. It’s a lack of
imagination.”
Finally, I asked Camilo to show me the shrine I had set my
heart on—Che’s study. His face froze again. “It will not hap-
pen.” he said. “It’s locked with three keys.”
I was taken aback. The visa and press credentials were not
going to help: The resistance to me seeing it ran deeper.
But perhaps that’s as it should be, I suddenly realized. Their
father had been for so long the world’s collective property—
his life poked and prodded, his every written word pored over,
his mausoleum in Santa Clara a tourist attraction visited dai-
ly by busloads of people—that the family might want to keep
one place private, just for themselves.
Sensing my disappointment, Camilo led me into the court-
yard and pulled back a plastic drop sheet to reveal Che’s 1960