The enemies of the Revolution tried to build a story of spontaneous protests repressed by a tyrannical government.  Photo: Granma Archives

When Fidel Castro Ruz went to the streets of Havana's Galiano and San Lázaro during the height of the riots unleashed on August 5, 1994, the sign of that violent day changed, and the usual peace began to take shape again. The figure of the Commander-in-Chief seemed almost legendary, on par with the warrior from Julio Cortázar's story Tema para un tapiz, capable of driving away an army of thousands with his presence.

Of course, in contrast to the short story, far from fighting alone, the leader of the Revolution had immense support. Reynaldo Herrera, a refrigeration mechanic, said at that time: "No president in the world can do what Fidel did yesterday (...) he has always had the support of his people. Everything is very clear, there is no fear."

That day, recounted Eusebio Leal in one of the interviews published in the book Hay que creer en Cuba, "in the middle of that battle, when the patriotic crowd, angry and enraged against what was happening, surrounded him (Fidel), he turned and said to me: What to do now? I answered him: Follow your hunch. And he affirmed: The hunch is this, let's go that way. That's how we got to Malecón."

In spite of the anguish, the leader described the day as a good one, an opportunity to reaffirm principles, a battle resolved with the weapons of morality and with the conviction of fighting for the right cause.

In the genesis of the disorders, Port Avenue became witness to an unusual concentration of antisocial elements, attracted by the rumors of radio stations located in the United States about the possibility of emigrating by sea, without the need for formalities.

At that time, there was an abundance of kidnappings of boats to travel to the "American dream", a journey that so often turned into a nightmare. On August 3, they took La Coubre, and on the following day, during a similar attempt, they assassinated the sub-officer of the National Revolutionary Police, Gabriel Lamoth Caballero, only 19 years old.

After another 24 hours, they tried to seize, for the second time, the Baraguá boat, which had been kidnapped on July 26 and later recovered. This time, they were prevented from doing so and unleashed their anger in the municipalities of Habana Vieja and Centro Habana, smashing shop windows, looting stores, and physically attacking even the police.

"We did not have a Sierra or a Girón (...) This is our time and our fight", expressed an official of the Young Communist Youth Union, who gathered the feelings of her comrades mobilized from the National Committee of the organization to confront the delinquent attitudes. "I was not the only woman", she emphasized.

Residents of nearby areas showed different signs of firmness. Workers of the Deauville Hotel -the point of popular union for the counter-offensive-, the Hermanos Ameijeiras Hospital, and the Blas Roca Contingent shouted: "This street belongs to Fidel."

At nine in the morning, an advance guard of 300 members of the latter force interrupted their work in the building of the Meliá Cohíba Hotel to respond to the emergency. In the following hours, they doubled their troops, deploying from the exit point of the Casablanca boat to 23rd and Malecón. Among the scars of the horror, a builder lost an eye, and others suffered skull fractures.

"I wanted to receive my share of stones (...) one wants to be there where the people are fighting (...); but also, I had the special interest to talk to our people, to urge them to be calm, patient, cold-blooded". This is how Fidel would detail in his appearance at the center of the upheavals, before his order to put away the firearms. Suddenly, the threat disappeared, and only the chorus of his name was intoned.

After the storm, great lessons remained, mentioned by journalist Julio García Luis in the newspaper Trabajadores, who pointed out the accomplices of the counterrevolution in the internal marginal groups. "Having seen the face of barbarism is an experience that will not be erased (...) The only future is to work and persevere in our path. Anything else is the abyss, chaos, and death," he said.

On August 5 of the following year, the streets were full again, but with a different energy, thanks to the Youth March against the Blockade. In memory of the recent horror, Granma journalist Alberto Núñez said: "The Malecón will always be a place of love and victory." (Granma)