Commentaries

In his cogent assessment of Nicaragua’s “new normal” following the 2018 protests, Cruz-Feliciano demonstrates how, despite the government’s efforts, the seeds of discontent continue to germinate even as the possibility of a political future beyond Daniel Ortega and his wife/vice president, Rosario Murillo, seems more distant than ever before. While the FSLN is still—by far—the most powerful party in the country, it seems that the rebellious spirit that the 2018 protests unleashed remains a source of anxiety for the Ortega administration. This is apparent in the ways that it has attempted to bolster its position, including (1) passing an antiterrorism law to neutralize public protest and arbitrarily detaining activists, (2) stripping critical nongovernmental organizations of their legal status in an attempt to weaken civil society, and (3) attacking the free press and journalists critical of the regime. ¹ Additionally, the administration has further solidified its position by consolidating control over the country’s electoral institutions and by suspending the legal status of political parties aligned with the opposition and disqualifying them from participating in the upcoming presidential elections. ²

It is clear that there is plenty to mobilize a citizenry exhausted by the Ortega administration’s violent repression and its inept handling of the COVID-19 pandemic, which has devastated Nicaragua. ³ Yet, as Cruz-Feliciano argues, the problem with the opposition is that it lacks “enough moral authority to gather the masses.” This was a concern that supporters of the opposition identified early in its formation. A second concern was the ideological diversity of the movement as the right, the left, the private sector (represented by COSEP), the Catholic Church, student activists, and others have struggled to assert hegemony over it. Politically and ideologically heterogeneous, these groups are bound together only by a shared desire to see Ortega removed from office and the rule of law restored. As has become apparent over the past three years, these singular demands have proven largely inadequate to maintain this fragile political coalition.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the movement’s consistent inability to include the political concerns of black and indigenous peoples of the Caribbean coast in its political agenda. Many of the costeño activists with whom I have worked over the past 15 years quickly became involved in the 2018 opposition movement and viewed the protests as an opportunity to articulate their communities’ specific grievances with both the Ortega administration and the state of Nicaragua, which has historically undermined their rights to territory, autonomy, and sovereignty. ⁴ They argued that the coast has been a testing ground for many of the most repressive tactics that the Ortega administration has deployed against the protest movement. For example, the state’s redistribution of private property to its political supporters reflects a similar practice of allowing landless farmers to occupy black and indigenous communal lands, producing a slow land grab that has displaced thousands of indigenous people and resulted in the deaths of dozens of indigenous community leaders. ⁵ Moreover, black and indigenous activists have long argued that the FSLN does not rely solely on violent political repression but has instead mastered the art of soft authoritarianism through a complex strategy of co-optation, patronage, “consensus” governance, and intervention in local politics. ⁶ In short, the political repression that Nicaragua is currently experiencing has been the norm for black and indigenous communities on the coast for some time, and therefore they can offer key insights into what the “new normal” under the Ortega administration might hold for the country.

Thus far, the opposition—like nationalist movements of the past—has been unable to meaningfully address the political concerns of black and indigenous communities. While it might be argued that Ortega’s dominance of the political system and the likelihood that he will—by hook or by crook—win the 2021 presidential elections make these questions politically insignificant, I would suggest that they are essential. As black and indigenous activists have argued, imagining a future beyond the Ortega regime is only half the battle; to be a truly representative national struggle, this movement must come to terms with the everyday racism of Nicaraguan politics that, as Simmons points out, ⁷ has been the “normal” state of affairs for far too long.