“If such living conditions are the result of a revolution, doesn’t this revolution have to be questioned as a whole?“

The Many Faces of My Farewell

My farewell to Nicaragua has many personal faces. When I said goodbye to my friends in November 2021, it was in all likelihood a parting forever. Firstly, I can no longer bear to stay in Nicaragua under these conditions, and secondly, it is also quite possible that the regime would not let me return to the country. I had come to appreciate and love my friends over the course of four decades. I learned a lot from them. The memories of our shared experiences in building grassroots projects, in critical reflection, in philosophical discussion, as well as in enjoying Nicaraguan cuisine or some glasses of Flor de Caña Gran Reserva will accompany me for the rest of my life. I have dedicated most of my political life to Nicaragua, and I wouldn’t want to miss a second of it. It was a struggle for freedom and justice, and we must honestly admit to ourselves that we have lost that struggle at this moment. Every single time we said goodbye, the question arose: Was it right to throw ourselves into this struggle? Were the sacrifices we made for this project worth it? Was all our commitment completely in vain?

María Isabel

When I visited María Isabel, we once again let all the important stages that shaped her life pass us by. She kept telling the story of how during the uprising against Somoza, as a young girl, she held a heavily armed National Guardsman at bay from behind with a broomstick and then arrested him. She came from the countryside and only learned to read and write through the Frente (FSLN). Later she became involved in the trade union movement and still works in an independent women’s centre. But in the 1980s she also denounced her sister Juana, whose husband supported the Contra, to the Sandinista authorities. Juana was then thrown into prison for six months. María Isabel still suffers from the fact that she did not visit her sister once during her time in prison. At the same time, it is at least a certain spiritual comfort to her that she could ask Juana for forgiveness and that her sister was able to forgive her before she died. Was it right to participate in a revolution that called on its rank and file to behave so cruelly within their own family? It is an irony of history that nowadays a police officer, loyal to Ortega, lives across the street from her house so she is no longer allowed to speak her mind aloud in the street without risking arrest. Even in her own house we had to talk in a low voice because she had – without knowing it beforehand – taken in a young Orteguist as a lodger and now doesn’t know how to get rid of her. If such living conditions are the result of a revolution, doesn’t this revolution have to be questioned as a whole?

Ingra

Ingra comes from Sweden and went to Nicaragua in the early 1980s to support the revolution. Since then she has lived and worked there. She has initiated and helped to set up various projects. She has created dozens of jobs and organised training in various manual and administrative professions. She has supported guerrillas from El Salvador who had sought refuge in Nicaragua, or had to recover from war injuries. She has also played a leading role in various women’s projects over many years, and still does today. For all these activities, she has organised and handled large sums of international funding. All these projects have been harassed and bullied by the Orteguist state bureaucracy during the last year to such an extent that some of them have already had to stop their activities. Ingra no longer has any deep roots in Europe. She is set on spending the rest of her life in Nicaragua. However, the Ortega regime spends a lot of energy on destroying any grassroots initiative not controlled by it. Ingra’s life dream – a self-determined life serving those most in need in Nicaragua – is in danger of collapsing under these conditions. She is at an age when other people in Europe have been living a comfortable retired life for years. She is a passionate anti-fascist and anti-imperialist. It is unbearable to see this modest, thoroughly altruistic woman being cold-heartedly treated as a “foreign agent” by the Orteguist bureaucracy. Recently, she was urged by a good friend to refrain from making political comments in public. Ingra replied that she was in no danger because it was common knowledge that she had never done anything against the Nicaraguan government, or the FSLN. But her friend – a staunch supporter of Ortega – tearfully repeated her plea for restraint, saying she knew very well how the FSLN would also falsify information if it served their interests.

Luis Felipe Pérez Caldera

In the 1980s, twinning between cities in Nicaragua and many other countries, especially in Europe, was established as an expression of solidarity. The Sandinista mayor Luis Felipe Pérez Caldera was one of the central figures in establishing such a partnership between León and Hamburg (Germany). It is said of him that he had a good relationship with all social and political groups in León. He promised everyone that he would work for their interests. But if he was not able to keep his promises – which often could not be prevented – this in no way diminished the esteem in which he was held by the people.

At that time, there was no internet, no WhatsApp, no e-mails. We wrote letters by hand or with a typewriter with several carbon copies for the archive. The answers sometimes took six months to arrive. Phone calls barely worked and were almost unaffordable. When we visited León, he made it possible for us to talk to whomever we wanted. When the FSLN lost the presidential elections in 1990, León remained firmly in Sandinista hands. But in the political struggle that followed, Luis Felipe took a clear stand against the FSLN’s verticalismo and authoritarianism. Because of his critical stance, his house was later branded with the graffiti “Death to the traitor”. With his inclusive and conciliatory nature, he was the exact opposite of the exclusive and repressive Orteguism that characterises the FSLN today. When I visited Nicaragua, it was an indispensable part of every trip to meet with him and talk for hours about current developments or reflect on historical issues. There was hardly anyone with whom I discussed Mikhail Gorbachev’s book Perestroika as long and intensively as I did with him. Although I knew that he currently was severely limited due to his age, I would never have forgiven myself if I had not said goodbye to he and his wife, in person. He no longer speaks and is largely living in another world. But our last handshake was so strong that I am convinced that he still recognised me, and perhaps deep inside even remembered our times together. Maybe it is good for him not to have to witness all the horrors of Orteguism with full consciousness.

Rigoberto Sampson Granera  

His good friend and successor in the mayor’s office, Rigoberto Sampson Granera  (affectionately called Rigo) long ensured that an open and free atmosphere prevailed in León while in Managua nepotism, corruption and secret pacts were gaining the upper hand in political life. Twice Ortega visited him personally to dissuade him from running for mayor, and instead imposed one of his henchmen as the FSLN candidate. But Rigo stood firm. He was elected with large majorities in the primaries and then in the municipal elections of 1997. Later he became a deputy in the National Assembly. He never accepted any personal advantages for himself. While Ortega gives his children radio stations, or sends them on state visits to other countries, Rigo has never put a single relative or friend into any well-paid position. When he passed away in 2009, at the evening vela,^[1] his entire neighbourhood was blocked by the multitude of mourners. I have not the slightest doubt that today’s obsequiousness inside the FSLN would have provoked deep aversion in him. And I am absolutely certain that he would never have participated in, nor backed, the violent crackdown on the civil protests of 2018. Since he is no longer with us, it was all the more important for me to say goodbye to his family in person.

José Antonio

On the civil society level, the priest and teacher José Antonio was a central hinge in organising the twinning process of the up to 30 schools that had established partnerships between Hamburg and León. He understood better than anyone how important communication was between the partners on both sides. He was not only a living expression of the connection between the Sandinista Revolution and Christianity, he was also an example of the importance of people’s civil commitment in that period. These grassroots twinnings functioned completely independently of the state administrative structures. The mayor’s office of León made an effort to support these activities, but there were no regulations, or even restrictions, on the connections that had grown from below. In this framework, donations in kind and money were organised for many years and on a large scale, not only for school projects in León. However, all this is now a thing of the past and has largely been forgotten. Currently, not a single dollar can be transferred from abroad to Nicaragua without first being checked and approved by the state bureaucracy in Managua in a complicated and tedious procedure. José Antonio was also active in the movement of Christian based communities, but can only continue to do this to a very limited extent for health reasons. But even in this grassroots movement, the idea of solidarity has been partially displaced by Orteguista nepotism and corruption. When we took stock of our joint activities over four decades, we agreed that it was right to have supported the unique project of the Sandinista Revolution with all our strength. But we both also came to the frustrating conclusion that this project has been destroyed by the current prevailing Orteguism. As I left his house into the evening darkness, I looked around again from a distance, I saw him sitting in his wheelchair, and we waved to each other once more. That was probably the last time I would see this great friend and comrade in struggle.

Manuel

Manuel is one of the group of young Chileans who went to Nicaragua to support the Sandinista Revolution after the suppression of Unidad Popular. He has built one of the most comprehensive historical archives on Nicaraguan political developments from 1979 to 2021. He has written, edited, transcribed, and made available to the public hundreds of documentary texts. There is hardly a scholarly work on Nicaragua that does not draw extensively on this archive. The salient feature of this collection is from the beginning it was compiled organisationally and politically independently of the FSLN. This meant that the respective state of the criticism of the policies of the Sandinista leadership was documented since very early on. From today’s perspective, the depth of this criticism may appear inadequate. But the publication of the relevant texts alone has created a rich archive based on which the recent history of Nicaragua and Sandinism can be critically examined in an outstanding manner. The FSLN has not yet opened any of its archives. No one knows whether there are any at all and where they might currently be. But precisely because of the independent character and critical continuity of his archive, Manuel is nowadays very afraid of being kicked out of Nicaragua. He too is now over 70 years old. And where on earth would he be able to once again build a new existence for himself? He made Nicaragua his adopted home country, putting down deep roots, because of the Sandinista Revolution. He has devoted most of his life, strength, and commitment to Nicaragua. But the only thing he can do now is to keep a low profile and hope that Ortega’s ray of banishment will not hit him. This is also the option of almost all the other critical voices that have not yet gone into exile because Nicaragua is their home. Of course, at the moment of our departure our deep political disappointment, our powerlessness in the face of the brutal current conditions, and the sadness of our definitive separation, again began to gain the upper hand because it was clear that I will not travel to Nicaragua again as long as the Ortega regime is still in power. But he replied that we should not cry now. Instead, we should have new hope because Ortega’s speech the day after the so-called elections was the speech of a loser. Although the Supreme Electoral Council awarded him a majority of 76 per cent due to his massive manipulations, he knew that no-one would believe him, not abroad, not inside Nicaragua, not even in his own party. He had to insult the political prisoners as “hijos de perra” (sons of dogs) in his unusual outburst of rage on 8 November. And afterwards, even letting himself be embraced and celebrated by some of the selected guests for this disgusting speech whitewashing the disgrace of the people’s successful boycott of the elections. Ortega, Manuel assured me, is already on the decline and as soon as he has finally gone, we will meet again. He wanted me to promise him that, and so I did.

Mildred

When Mildred had the chance to go to a safe foreign country during the uprising against Somoza, she decided to stay in Nicaragua and take part in the revolution. While she was involved in the Sandinista Revolution, her brother, an elite National Guard fighter, remained loyal to Somoza until the final day. After the triumph, he was captured by the new revolutionary forces and shot dead by his guards in circumstances that have not been fully clarified. Mildred had to organise his funeral. For this, however, she was not only viewed with suspicion by her Sandinista comrades, but on top of that she had to endure her mother cursing her and chasing her out of her house because she blamed her adherence to Sandinism for her son’s death. Much later, Mildred became reconciled with her mother, but the scars of such experiences remain for a lifetime. Mildred worked for many years as a journalist in various Sandinista media. She was also involved in the women’s movement and later became a fierce critic of Ortega. If she had left the turmoil of the revolution in 1979 with her companion and sought refuge in a safe foreign country, she might now be living the life of a highly respected writer, or a well-off professor in Germany or the USA. Instead, she has to stay hidden, living in constant fear of being arrested and thrown into prison as has been the fate of more than 150 political prisoners in Nicaragua.

Nidia

If you have been involved in Nicaragua Solidarity for more than four decades, it would be very unusual not to develop good connections, even very close friendships, with people who, more or less, support the current regime. Nidia’s family is traditionally pro-Sandinista. Her grandparents supported the revolution out of a deep Christian faith. For this, they were first brutally tortured and then murdered by the Contra. Their family history is part of the FSLN’s revolutionary history. It is an expression of the deep roots of the Sandinista Revolution in the poor and largely religious population. And it is also a testimony to the suffering that thousands of devout Christians had to endure because they supported this revolution. Nidia says of herself that she is not an Orteguista, but a Sandinista. Of course, she was shocked when police and paramilitaries used weapons of war against the students in 2018. Her house is just a few metres from where one of the universities came under fire. She knows my critical attitude towards the Ortega regime. But given her political and family history, she feels a loyalty to Nicaragua and the FSLN that is almost unshakeable. It is not possible for her to share her unease, and also her inner criticism of the current conditions with a foreigner, no matter how many years he has been active in solidarity with Nicaragua. When we, as was our habit, went out to share some pleasant moments in a good restaurant it was an unwritten law not to talk about the political situation in Nicaragua. Of course, I could not tell her it was no longer possible for me to meet with friends in a public restaurant if they were critical of the regime or were regarded as such.

Pedro

I have a very close friendship with Pedro that has grown over decades. We may not hear from each other for a year, but when we meet again it is as if we had seen each other the day before. There is no topic we won’t talk about openly with each other. He works on various projects and teaches at university. He is not a formal member of the FSLN, but he supports President Ortega and his policies. During the first protests in 2018, he was pelted with stones by students when he tried to protect a monument to freedom fighters who died fighting Somoza. But he has never taken part in violent actions against opposition members. When I told him at our meeting that this would be my last visit to Nicaragua and that I would never return, it was a great shock to him. He was deeply affected by this and did not understand why I had come to this decision. I tried to explain my decision to him with some concrete examples, without entering into a general ideological debate, or making political accusations against him. So, I told him that I had met many people who feel great fear at the moment.  Who no longer dare express their opinions publicly, fear losing their jobs if they do not participate in the political activities demanded of them and who fear being spied on by their neighbours. He replied that he couldn’t understand that at all, and literally added: “I don’t feel any fear at all.” I have not the slightest reason to doubt this, and it may be one can live quite unconcerned as a supporter of the government. But even though some of his family members are highly critical of Ortega, the idea that opposition members would be afraid of being arrested and thrown in jail was completely alien to him. I know that he holds Vilma Núñez in high regard. However, he also reacted with incomprehension to my pointing out that the Human Rights Centre, of which she is president, had been deprived of its legal status by the government. Instead, he pointed out that such things are more likely to be discussed in Managua and not so much in the cities on the periphery. When I then added that it was unacceptable that world-renowned writers like Gioconda Belli or Sergio Ramírez did not return to Nicaragua because they were afraid of becoming victims of repression, he replied thoughtfully that there were indeed some things that were not going so well in Nicaragua and that no country in the world could develop without freedom.

Jaime

In 1984 I met Jaime, a young teacher and trade unionist and since that moment we have been in regular contact with each other. He is highly educated, has studied in different countries, has obtained various academic degrees, and is highly qualified in both sociology and technical disciplines. He has supported the FSLN since a young age, but according to his own statements, he was not involved in any repressive measures during the 2018 clashes. He is prepared to take part in any discussion, is a good listener and openly states his own opinion, forms of communication that not everyone in Nicaragua masters. When we got to talking about the 2018 protests, he showed me the death threats against him and his family that he received on his mobile phone. He told me quite openly that – independently of whether the criticisms of the government may be justified – he cannot forgive the perpetrators of these threats. Nevertheless, he tries to keep in touch with some old political acquaintances who nowadays belong to the opposition, because he knows that at some point, a dialogue between the government and the opposition will have to take place and it will require people who can re-establish the relevant contacts. We spent many hours together discussing all possible aspects of the current political situation in Nicaragua. He did not deny that there are democratic deficits, nepotism, and corruption under the current government. But in order to justify why he considered Ortega’s presidency to be the better alternative compared to the opposition candidates he kept talking about the new asphalted roads, the new hospitals, and the electrification of the country. He considered it right that people like Dora María Téllez or Hugo Torres, among many critics of the regime, are currently in prison.^[2] Although no evidence has been presented publicly, he is firmly convinced that these two outstanding former commanders of the Sandinista liberation struggle have attempted to organise an US supported military coup d’état to overthrow the Ortega-Murillo government.

…

Farewell to Nicaragua (4) Justice and democracy need a completely new start

---

^[1] Mourning service at the home of the deceased on the evening of his death.

^[2] Hugo Torres died in prison on 11 February 2022.