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Cuban President Fidel Castro (left) and Canadian Foreign Minister Lloyd Axworthy meet at the Revolution Palace in Havana, Cuba in 1997.Supplied

Lloyd Axworthy is chair of the World Refugee and Migration Council and a former Canadian foreign affairs minister. He is the author of My Life in Politics, from which this essay has been adapted.

Over dinner in late January of 1997 at the Havana Palace of the Revolution, Fidel Castro gave me his recipe for vegetable soup. It was not a major diplomatic coup but it did mark a step in interactions with “El Comandante,” which occupied a lot of attention during my tenure at Foreign Affairs. It was an opportunity to witness in action one of the most dominant, long-lasting and controversial world leaders of the late 20th and early 21st century.

Fidel was a big man, well over six feet, but whatever had been formidable in his manner during his guerrilla fighting days was absent in this encounter. He was affable, voluble and engaging, seeming to relish the exchange of views and the comfort of our shared interests in baseball, politics (in that order) and soup! Over dinner my admiration for the plateful of vegetables served up led Castro to comment with obvious pride that they were grown in his garden, which he tended personally. Great, I thought, a topic worth extending, one of those gems needed in close social encounters with foreign leaders. I pursued this line of conversation and he responded by giving me the soup recipe. Our ambassador, Mark Entwistle, seated at dinner with us, was visibly astounded at this unorthodox diplomatic take-away. For me the recipe was a surprise but a notable gesture, signalling to me there was an opening in our relationship that went beyond typical diplomatic bafflegab.

In a more private moment after the meal, I was able to raise the names of certain Cuban dissidents, asking for their release from prison. Eventually, there was an agreement for their resettlement in Canada. The next afternoon I signed an agreement with my counterpart, Foreign Minister Roberto Robaina González, that committed both countries to meetings on women’s and children’s rights, to explore Cuba joining the UN Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, and to establish clear rules for international funding of Cuban NGOs. In exchange we agreed to support projects that could help their economy, such as a system of land surveying. It was a beginning of a dialogue that continued as long as I was foreign minister.

There were historical roots to this occasion. In January, 1976 Prime Minster Pierre Elliott Trudeau visited Cuba, opening up personal relations with Mr. Castro and striking a decidedly different Canadian diplomatic stance toward Cuba. Unlike American policy that portrayed the small country as a dangerous, communist threat (just 150 kilometres from Florida), a perception generated by Cuban exiles who fled the country after the downfall of the Batista dictatorship. They established political bases in the key states of Florida and New Jersey and strongly influenced both Democratic and Republican parties. Canada didn’t have the same political pressure.

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Former Cuban president Fidel Castro, left and then Canadian foreign minister Lloyd Axworthy meet at the Revolution Palace in Havana, Cuba in 1997.Jose Goitia/The Canadian Press

The Americans used assassination attempts, invasion, and embargo as their tools against the Cuban regime. Successive Canadian governments (Stephen Harper’s was the exception) worked on what we called “constructive engagement,” tying together challenges of Cuban human-rights abuses with efforts to more fully integrate Cuba into international, western-hemisphere arrangements. Diplomacy does not require an endorsement of another country’s position. It does require openness to sitting down and listening, finding out the possible areas of agreement, or at least deciding on an agreement to disagree.

There was a major brush up with the Americans over US legislation called the Helms-Burton Act that applied extraterritorial punishments to companies that took over assets of Cuban exiles. This involved several Canadian companies. We pushed back, as did the Europeans, gaining a favourable response from other countries in the Americas that were fed up with American bullish ways. We demonstrated to our business community that we had their interests as a priority. The Clinton administration felt the pressure of this and delayed implementation of penalties. I opened up a dialogue with Secretary of State Madeline Albright, who privately acceded to our initiative as long as I kept her informed of our actions, another layering of the growing trust we had with each other.

It also led to overtures for dialogue from Cuban vice-president Carlos Lage Davila. He and I began a series of private meetings. At an overwrought replica of a Tudor-style English inn close to Heathrow, we agreed to initiate formal talks. Following that, prime minister Jean Chrétien authorized me to go to Cuba and meet with Mr. Castro, the first official visit since Mr. Trudeau’s in 1976 and the one that garnered the soup recipe. Mr. Chrétien followed through with a visit to Cuba in April of 1998 using it as an opportunity to engage Mr. Castro into rejoining the Organization of American States (OAS) at its summit meeting in Canada, a priority for the PM. The issue of human rights dominated the media coverage, but the plan to bring dissident prisoners to Canada couldn’t be made public. The US government’s response was mildly critical. The US media was caustic in its comments. Other governments in the Americas applauded our overtures.

In an ongoing pursuit of this constructive engagement policy, I revisited Havana in early January of 1999, resulting in another memorable engagement with Fidel. On the morning of Jan. 9, I was up island visiting a camp the Cubans had established for the treatment of children affected by radiation from the Chernobyl disaster. Officials from our embassy called to say they had received word that Fidel had declared he was coming to lunch. A completely surprise visit. We immediately flew back in a very clunky Soviet-style helicopter and arrived to see “El Présidente” with his lengthy frame draped comfortably in a wicker chair on the summer porch. (I have the photo.) His first words were, in Spanish, “What took you so long?”

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Castro receives Axworthy.The Canadian Press

Over lunch we began with the usual civilities. Having a conversation via a translator is often a bit like having a bath with your socks on – there’s some barrier to the full experience. But that day, and during the “soup” visit the time before, our conversation flowed smoothly. His facility with English was good, and he used it whenever the spirit moved him, but relied mostly on his native Spanish.

The serious conversation began after lunch and continued for the next two hours. My case to him was that he could best serve his own people by lifting restrictions on free speech and assembly and by joining multilateral organizations that would offset the US embargo and allow the Cubans to develop exportable skills and products. His retort was that any lessening of the tight police control would enable the CIA and US right-wing sponsored groups to foment distrust and disruption in the country. It was a classic debate – security of the state versus liberties for the people.

Fidel made a point that during Pope John Paul II’s recent visit, foreign agents (i.e. American) incited dissent and calls for an overthrow. My counter was that being a member of the OAS and joining UN human-rights agencies would provide a counter. There was no conclusion in the debate, but it was a serious discussion with a lot at stake, not set rhetorical positioning. We had gambled on proffering the Cubans an alternative pathway to that of being in the thrall of one big power (Russia) and in the economic and political stranglehold of another (the United States). Progress stalled after that. The Cuban government, seemingly spooked by the civilian unrest following the papal visit, started a crackdown on political dissidents. The hard liners in the government were ascendant; the more progressive leaders like Mr. Lage and Mr. Robaina were dismissed. Cuba continued on a perpetual slope of economic and political decline. Recent reports are that once again Cuba is appealing to Russia for bailouts. The U.S. embargo is a continuing barrier, and the enmity between the two countries driven by domestic political imperatives continues to warp hemispheric efforts at co-operation. Cuban emigration grows. Canada has ceased to play much of a role.

I had one further encounter with the Cubans that showed there was a flicker of residual respect. In July, 1999, the Pan Am Games were held in Winnipeg. Cuba and Canada were to meet in the baseball final, and I was scheduled to hand out medals to the winner. I received a note from the manager of the Cuban team who wanted to meet. He was a long-time Fidel supporter, and known to our security officials. His request was simple: “If Cuba wins would you still present them with the gold?” No reservations on my part. When Cuba won a close game, 3-2, I gave out the medals and congratulated the Cuban team.

A month later I received a brown package from the Cuban embassy – a box of Cohiba cigars, signed by Fidel. The now-empty box is put away for safe keeping.

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