With Soekarno, you can lie :DD
--- In [email protected], "sunny" <am...@...> wrote:
>
> http://www.granma.cu/ingles/cuba-i/20mentir-mayo.html
>
> Havana. May 21, 2010
>
>
> With Fidel, you cannot lie
>
> Manuel E. Yepe
>
> FIFTY years ago, when I was chief of protocol for the Foreign Ministry, I
> witnessed an incident which, while not very important, did involve important
> people: Ahmed Sukarno, the former president of Indonesia; Ernest Hemingway,
> the great U.S. author; and the maximum leader of the Cuban Revolution, Fidel
> Castro.
>
> On that Sunday in May 1960 the plan for the official visit of the Indonesian
> president, the first head of state to visit Cuba following the revolutionary
> victory was the following: lunch and a day at Jibacoa beach, which is around
> 40 km outside of Havana, as Fidel Castro's guest.
>
> A lack of organization due to leadership inexperience, which frequently
> caused problems, led us to change our rendezvous to Santa Cruz del Norte, a
> small fishing village a little closer to the capital, but also on the same
> coastal route.
>
> There, right on the highway, we had to stop the convoy which was taking
> President Sukarno to Jibacoa, on the same road that we had just taken to
> bring in the musicians by bus.
>
> From Santa Cruz del Norte we got word to Havana to let the Prime Minister
> Fidel Castro know that the meeting place had been changed.
>
> Everything appeared to be happily resolved when drinks and hors d'oeuvres
> were served to the guests and the musicians began to play.
>
> But, a half hour later, the prime minister had not arrived and we were
> worried that Sukarno would get impatient with the absence of his host.
>
> Then we got a short wave radio message from the leader of the Cuban
> Revolution.
>
> He was competing in the Marlin Fishing Tournament with Ernest Hemingway for
> whom this annual tournament is now named. He asked to be excused for being
> late. In a short while he hoped to join his guest, and he suggested that we
> not wait for him to have lunch.
>
> I conveyed his apology to the president but lied about the reason, "..serious
> issues of government were preventing the prime minister from joining us at
> the appointed time, but he was already on his way."
>
> Another half hour passed. I received another message from the prime minister.
> He was winning, and so he could not leave the fishing tournament. Once again
> he asked to be excused and suggested that lunch be served without him.
>
> "It seems that the prime minister has had to call a very urgent government
> meeting and he ask you to wait for him and that he will not be delayed for
> long," was the false message that I gave to Sukarno.
>
> After another 30 minutes had gone by, the distinguished foreign dignitary
> could no longer hide his displeasure.
>
> "The thing is that there is a very tense situation with the United States and
> surely something extremely serious has arisen," I tried to calm him.
>
> The foreign leader went ahead and ate lunch without waiting for his host. He
> seemed to enjoy the food and the artists' performance. But after the dessert
> he arose and asked to leave.
>
> While Sukarno and his party got into their cars, I was convinced that I had
> just witnessed a serious incident in diplomatic relations between our two
> nations.
>
> But 10 minutes later, when the convoy had taken the broad Via Blanca highway
> headed for the capital, it came to an abrupt halt.
>
> The car carrying Comandante en Jefe Fidel Castro in the opposite direction
> had intercepted it. Fidel got out and personally opened the left rear door of
> the car carrying President Sukarno. He entered and I gave him my seat next to
> the president.
>
> "Did they tell you that I was competing against Ernest Hemingway in the
> fishing contest? I couldn't leave because I was winning. I won the first
> prize without any doubt!" was the cheerful greeting from the leader of the
> Revolution.
>
> "Yes, I knew that. I am very happy. Congratulations. I am very glad that you
> were able to come," said Sukarno.
>
> And they embraced smiling while I, acting as interpreter, was sweating
> profusely. And from that experience, I learned one lesson, with Fidel, you
> cannot lie.
>
>
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>
