Target JFK: The Spy Who Killed Kennedy
(Excerpted from "Target: JFK, The Spy Who Killed Kennedy?" by Robert K. Wilcox)
In a diary written in 1970—only seven years after JFK’s assassination— Bazata begins, “This is a history of the liaison of 2 men across 50 years of clandestiny ... It culminated in the death of John F. Kennedy [although, he adds, Kennedy wasn’t the first president targeted.] It is not a belated ‘confession’ or spate of ‘remorse’ or spiteful tale. It is not told for money ... It is revealed because this ‘telling’ is part of the gigantic [assassination] plan [bringing it] to a ‘near’ finish. It remains for [America to change and thus] finish it.”
Dussaq, writes Bazata, hatched his plot ultimately to make America aware of its leaders’ manipulation of smaller countries, and the price he believed would have to be paid because of that waywardness. Further, he delegated Bazata, when the time was right—after the assassination’s shock had dissipated—to tell the public the truth about what had happened in hopes America’s leaders would change and allow sovereign nations like Cuba to decide their own fate rather than have America decide it for them.
Throughout the diaries, Bazata, to protect his friend, calls Dussaq “Peter” or “Paul,” mostly “Paul.” It’s a play on the Biblical transformation of Saul to Paul, which occurs soon in their relationship. But there is no doubt in my mind who Bazata means. Occasionally he slips, naming Dussaq outright. Regardless, there are so many indicators in the story pointing directly to Dussaq that “Peter” or “Paul” could be no other.
The plotter-shooter in Bazata’s diaries was born in Argentina, grew up in Switzerland and spoke many languages. He was an ex-Hollywood stuntman, had a bad back, was naturalized in 1942, and lost his wife tragically during the war in a military aircraft accident. He even carried a picture of his father’s bicep, as Dussaq did. Plus, again, Dussaq is inadvertently named sometimes. The odds that Bazata is writing about someone other than Dussaq are astronomical.
“Long have I kept Paul’s story in my heart,” writes Bazata. “Paul never spoke to me from bragging or compulsion. He spoke in tears and hope . . . He chose me to [tell the story] ... You either believe me or you don’t. I care not one fig either way. I merely set down here a story 50 years in the making. It is all totally true ... I change only the names of those I love [Dussaq and other clandestine brothers involved] and those I fear. Yes fear. I have survived these past 50 years through skill and never talking. Not once [through] tortures, doubts, temptation, sleepless nights over this . . . Now I’m going to lose my privacy.” He felt compelled. “The nuts will come out ... ”
Only they never did. Bazata never allowed what he’d written to be published. Why is a matter of speculation. Perhaps the fear became too real and halted him? Perhaps, as the story will show, his attempts to leak it out piecemeal to friends were ignored or shunned which gave him pause and he retreated. Perhaps publishers didn’t believe him, or didn’t want to believe him. No question the diaries are not only explosive but in need of editing. They are hard to read—several thousand handwritten pages in all—often coded, jumping from thread to thread on different pages. And from page to page out of numbered sequence, requiring the reader to go to different parts of a notebook, and/or turn the notebook upside-down to continue reading. Sentences are unfinished. Different handwriting and script styles are used, even different sizes of letters which is jarring to the flow of the sentences and their meaning. All this presents a problem to anyone not willing to fight with what is written until it becomes clear.
But once deciphered, the JFK passages jibe with much that is known. There are gaps in Bazata’s knowledge. “Tho I knew Peter/Paul most profoundly, I know almost nothing of prolonged periods [in his life], vast areas of surely much activity. We [clandestines] never confided in anyone, ever—including each other, never probed each other, never asked a personal question. We just let it issue forth as the talker wished and decided. We trusted each other. We were brothers to the fullest.” They shared the strong bond of fear and danger.
I don’t think Bazata wanted anyone else, not sanctioned, to read the diaries, and was still debating within himself when he died whether to go public or not. The reason he gave me access, in my opinion, was that he’d recently had a stroke, which had weakened in his mind the long-time code of silence he’d always lived by. He gave me the diaries almost nonchalantly, as if to say, “Go ahead if you want. Look through them. Take them ... ” He didn’t seem to care. I had approached him on another subject and was later completely surprised with what I found.
Near death, had he lost the fear and wanted me to discover what was in them? Is it all a lie, made up? But for what? He didn’t ask for money or even credit. Perhaps this was his last, tired attempt to set the record straight. You be the judge.
■ ■ ■
On November 22, 1963, half past high noon, Hydra-K commenced. As the motorcade approached, René, preparing to shoot, readied his weapon. Bazata doesn’t say where he is, only that he was a “great distance” from his target. He is “in front” of the motorcade. His soon-to-be-fired shot, however, would not be the first. It would be the second. The first shot, according to Bazata, would be by Oswald—who, most accounts agree, was at this same moment also aiming a rifle from a sixth floor window in the Texas School Book Depository. He is above and—unlike Dussaq—behind the slow-moving motorcade.
Here, however, Bazata’s account deviates from the standard. Since Dussaq didn’t want Oswald in Hydra-K but was forced to use him, he devised a “brilliant” (according to Bazata) alternative plan to use Oswald to his own advantage, i.e., in the fulfillment of his quest for Cuba. Oswald, in effect, would become Dussaq’s patsy.