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    Daniel Ortega and the Crushing of the Nicaraguan Dream

    Will they come for me? What will it be like to be jailed by the same people I fought alongside to topple the 45-year Somoza dictatorship in Nicaragua, my country?I joined the clandestine urban resistance of the Sandinista National Liberation Front, known as the FSLN, in 1970. I was 20. The long and bloody struggle to get rid of Anastasio Somoza Debayle is now a bittersweet memory of pride. I was once part of a brave young generation willing to die for freedom. Of the 10 “compañeros” who were in my clandestine cell, only two of us survived. On July 20, 1979, three days after Mr. Somoza was forced out by a popular insurrection, I walked into his office bunker on a hill overlooking Managua, filled with the empowering feeling that the impossible had been made possible.None of those illusions survive today. It is clear to me, looking back, that Nicaragua paid too high a cost for that revolution. Its young leadership became too enamored of itself; it thought we could defy the odds and create a socialist utopia.Thousands died to topple that dictator, and many more lost their lives in the Contra war that followed. Now, the man once chosen to represent our hope for change, Daniel Ortega, has become another tyrant. Along with his eccentric wife, Rosario Murillo, they rule Nicaragua with an iron fist.As the November elections approach, the couple seem possessed by the fear of losing power. They lash out and imprison whoever they think might stand in their way. In the past month, they have jailed five presidential candidates and arrested many others, including iconic revolutionary figures who were once their allies. Last month they even came for my brother. To avoid capture, he left Nicaragua. He wasn’t paranoid: Just a few days later, on June 17, over two dozen armed police officers raided his house looking for him. His wife was alone. They searched every corner and left after five hours. The next night several masked men armed with knives and a rifle robbed his house. One of them was heard to say it was a “second operation.” Another threatened to kill his wife and rape my niece who had arrived to spend the night with her mother. Mr. Ortega and Ms. Murillo appear to be using the crudest form of terror to intimidate their political opponents.I never admired Mr. Ortega personally. To me, he always seemed like a duplicitous, mediocre man, but his street smarts allowed him to outwit many of his companions. He was the head of the first Sandinista government in 1979 and president from 1984 to 1990. Losing the election to Violeta Chamorro in 1990 scarred Mr. Ortega’s psyche. Returning to power became his sole ambition. After the electoral defeat many of us wanted to modernize the Sandinista movement. Mr. Ortega would have none of it. He viewed our attempts to democratize the party as a threat to his control. He accused those who disagreed with him of selling our souls to the United States, and he surrounded himself with sycophants. His wife sided with him even after her daughter accused Mr. Ortega, her stepfather, of sexually abusing her from the age of 11, a scandal that might have ended another politician’s career.In fact, Ms. Murillo, who has been characterized as a tropical Lady Macbeth, cleverly reshaped his image after he ran in two more elections and lost. Her New Age ideas appeared in symbols of peace and love and banners painted with psychedelic colors. Rather conveniently, Mr. Ortega and his wife metamorphosed into devout Catholics after decades of revolutionary atheism. To further win over the Catholic Church, Mr. Ortega’s nemesis in the ’80s, he agreed to back a complete ban on abortion. He had also signed a pact in 1999 with President Arnoldo Alemán, who would later be found guilty of corruption, to stack government posts with equal shares of loyalists. In exchange, Alemán’s Liberal Party agreed to lower the percentage of votes needed to win the presidency.It worked. In 2006, Mr. Ortega won with only 38 percent of the vote. No sooner did he take office than he set about dismantling already weak state institutions. He obtained the support of the private sector by giving it a say in economic decisions in exchange for acquiescence to his politics. He trampled on the Constitution, which expressly forbade re-election, to allow for indefinite re-elections. Then, in his run for his third term in 2016, he chose his wife to be vice president.Mr. Ortega and Ms. Murillo seemed securely in power until April 2018, when a small demonstration against a reform that would have lowered social security pensions was violently repressed by Sandinista thugs. The entire country was swept by peaceful protests. Mr. Ortega and Ms. Murillo reacted with fury and crushed the revolt with firepower: 328 people were killed, 2,000 were wounded, and 100,000 went into exile, according to the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. Armed paramilitaries roamed the streets in a killing spree, and hospitals were ordered to deny assistance to wounded protesters. Doctors who disobeyed were fired. The regime imposed a de facto state of emergency and suspended constitutional rights. Public demonstrations of any sort were banned. Our cities were militarized. Mr. Ortega and Ms. Murillo justified their actions by fabricating a big lie: The uprising was a coup planned and financed by the United States.Nicaragua’s next elections are scheduled for Nov. 7. In late spring, the two major opposition groups agreed to choose one candidate under the umbrella of the Citizens Alliance. Cristiana Chamorro, daughter of former President Chamorro, had strong showings in the polls. Soon after she announced her intent to run for president she was placed under house arrest. The government appears to have fabricated a case of money laundering in its deluded notion that this would legitimize her detention. More arrests followed: four more presidential candidates, journalists, a banker, a private sector representative, two accountants who worked for Cristiana Chamorro’s foundation and even her brother, all of them accused under new and conveniently ambiguous laws that essentially make any opposition to the ruling couple a treasonous crime. Mr. Ortega insisted that all the detainees are part of a vast U.S.-sponsored conspiracy to overthrow him.Nicaraguans now find ourselves with no recourse, no law, no police to protect us. Habeas corpus has been replaced by a law that allows the state to imprison people who are under investigation for up to 90 days. Most of the prisoners have not been allowed to see their lawyers or members of their families. We are not even sure where they are being held. Every night, too many Nicaraguans go to bed afraid that their doors will be the next that the police will break down.I am a poet, a writer. I am an outspoken critic of Mr. Ortega. I tweet, I give interviews. Under Mr. Somoza, I was tried for treason. I had to go into exile. Will I now face jail or exile again?Who will they come for next?Gioconda Belli is a Nicaraguan poet and novelist. She is the former president of the Nicaraguan PEN center.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

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    Daniel Ortega, el hijo de Somoza

    En solo unos días, han sido detenidos líderes de la oposición en Nicaragua. ¿Acaso la diplomacia puede hacer algo eficaz para detener a un líder que ha decidido convertirse en dictador?El 17 de julio de 1979, el dictador Anastasio Somoza Debayle abandonó definitivamente Nicaragua. Esa fecha —conocida como el Día de la Alegría— parecía cerrar definitivamente una etapa terrible y sangrienta en la historia del país centroamericano. Tras años de lucha, en múltiples frentes, el pueblo había conquistado la libertad y podía comenzar a construir una vida en democracia. Daniel Ortega Saavedra, el comandante del ejército rebelde de 33 años, era uno de los líderes fundamentales de esa revolución. Cuatro décadas después, sin embargo, se convirtió en lo que ayudó a derrotar: es el nuevo Somoza que ahora oprime salvajemente a Nicaragua.Una de las de características del reciente autoritarismo latinoamericano es el descaro, la falta de pudor. Se comporta de manera obscena, con absoluta tranquilidad. Esta semana, en Nicaragua, han sido detenidos cinco líderes de la oposición, cuatro de ellos posibles adversarios a Ortega en las elecciones presidenciales de noviembre. No se trata solo de una estrategia de fuerza, de control interno, también hay un mensaje desafiante hacia el exterior: Ortega actúa con arrogante impunidad, como si la reacción de la comunidad internacional no le preocupara demasiado. Habiendo pasado el tiempo de las invasiones, ¿acaso la diplomacia puede hacer algo eficaz por detenerlo?Conocí a Daniel Ortega en una visita que hizo a Venezuela, buscando fondos para apoyar la lucha contra Somoza. Yo tenía 18 años y formaba parte de una brigada de solidaridad con Nicaragua en la ciudad de Barquisimeto. Ahí, un grupo de jóvenes nos reunimos una noche con el comandante guerrillero. Era un hombre sencillo, sin pretensiones personales, se expresaba siempre de manera directa. Nos habló de la guerra en Nicaragua pero, también, de la necesaria batalla en el exterior, de la imprescindible ayuda de los otros países de la región para lograr la caída de la dictadura de Somoza. Hoy todo es tan distinto y tan igual que la historia parece un relato absurdo.Tras la victoria de la revolución en 1979, Daniel Ortega y el Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional gobernaron el país hasta 1990, cuando perdieron las elecciones frente a Violeta Chamorro.Década y media pasó Daniel Ortega en la oposición hasta que logró ganar las elecciones con un mínimo margen y regresar al poder en 2007. A partir de ese momento, con la ayuda de los petrodólares venezolanos (entre 2008 y 2016, recibió alrededor de 500 millones de dólares anuales de manos del chavismo), comenzó a construir y a desarrollar un proyecto autoritario, destinado a ocupar los espacios de poder y a eliminar la institucionalidad, a someter a la sociedad civil y a garantizar su permanencia indefinida al frente del gobierno.Es un proceso que, con sus diferencias y atendiendo a sus circunstancias particulares, sigue un libreto similar al aplicado por el chavismo en Venezuela. Tiene grandes visos de nepotismo, ha secuestrado y socavado la autonomía de los poderes, limita a la prensa independiente, controla el aparato de justicia, los órganos electorales, el ejército. Es un modelo que permite que Ortega pueda reelegirse de manera ilimitada mientras sus adversarios —de forma ilegal— son inhabilitados, suspendidos o encarcelados.La crisis que comenzó en 2018, que tienen en las protestas estudiantiles un protagonista esencial, han mostrado cuán dispuesto está Ortega a emular a Anastasio Somoza. La represión, las detenciones ilegales, los juicios fraudulentos, las denuncias de tortura, el acoso más feroz a la prensa y la persecución política cada vez más implacable dibujan un cuadro crucial de violación permanente a los derechos humanos. Tampoco los diversos intentos de diálogos han logrado prosperar. El país, sin duda, está ante el peor escenario para que se puedan dar unas elecciones libres. Sergio Ramírez, extraordinario escritor y figura emblemática de la lucha contra Somoza y de la Revolución sandinista, retrata así el panorama: “El Estado de derecho dejó de existir en Nicaragua. Lo demás es ficción y remedo”.Frente la avanzada autoritaria, el Departamento del Tesoro de Estados Unidos ha sancionado a tres funcionarios cercanos a Ortega y a su propia hija. Ya antes, tanto Estados Unidos como la Unión Europea, Canadá y el Reino Unido han puesto en vigencia medidas coercitivas contra el gobernante nicaragüense. También esta semana, António Guterres, secretario general de la ONU, instó a Ortega a liberar a los líderes opositores y a recuperar la credibilidad en la democracia en su país. Todas estas posturas y declaraciones, sin embargo, son cada vez más inocuas frente al desparpajo con el que actúa el poder en Nicaragua. Parecen una representación lejana en el aire, mientras los ciudadanos están cada vez más indefensos y acorralados. “Somos rehenes de la dictadura”, define acertadamente el periodista nicaragüense Carlos Fernando Chamorro.Parece evidente, al menos en la región, que urge reinventar la diplomacia. Las experiencias de Cuba, de Venezuela, ahora de Nicaragua, son más que elocuentes. Ni las sanciones económicas ni las presiones más formales, por separado o en conjunto, parecen haber tenido resultados medianamente palpables. Tampoco los organismos multilaterales o los bloques de varios países han conseguido en la mayoría de los casos alguna consecuencia positiva. El autoritarismo no solo sigue obrando a sus anchas, institucionalizando su violencia, sino que además avanza sin miramientos tratando de legitimar hoy en día las antiguas formas de tiranía militar del siglo XX latinoamericano.Hay que crear un tipo de relaciones internacionales distintas, que no terminen atrapadas entre una imposible invasión militar o la lentitud de la burocracia de las asociaciones o grupos multilaterales. Tiene que haber una manera de inventar nuevos mecanismos, pactos diferentes, que permitan otras alternativas de intervención regional que —al igual que en el siglo XX— apoyen a las ciudadanías y frenen el avance autoritario en la región.Para todo esto, es necesario comenzar a despolarizar los conflictos. No estamos ante un debate entre ideologías sino ante una pugna entre el despotismo y la democracia. En distintos niveles y en coyunturas diferentes, lo que está en riesgo es lo mismo. No importa si el gobernante se llama Nayib Bukele o Daniel Ortega. Si se define como liberal o como socialista. Lo que importa es el poder de los ciudadanos, la independencia de las instituciones, la libertad y la alternancia política. El caso de Nicaragua, en ese sentido, es proverbial: un mismo actor ha elegido jugar papeles opuestos. Quien enarboló las banderas contra la dictadura y se proclamó un orgulloso “hijo de Sandino” es hoy, por el contrario, el más perfecto y genuino hijo de Somoza.Alberto Barrera Tyszka (@Barreratyszka) es escritor venezolano. Su libro más reciente es la novela Mujeres que matan. More