It is often remarked that history is written by the victors. As we approach the millenium, history’s current victors are busy portraying all struggles for social justice and economic equity as misguided enterprises at best, or more often, demogogic misadventures. A case in point is Francisco Goldman’s article on Daniel Ortega in the August 23 issue of the New York Times Magazine. Goldman’s article reveals that even well-intentioned observers share an understanding of the past that is filtered through a screen constructed by the winners of recent political conflicts. Nothing less is at stake than the historical record of struggles for social justice.
Goldman, a celebrated novelist and sophisticated observer of the Central American political scene, traveled to Nicaragua earlier this year to interview the former president and current FSLN party general secretary, Daniel Ortega, about allegations of sexual abuse made by his stepdaughter, In his reporting of the scandal itself, Goldman treats Ortega fairly, leaving the final verdict in the case to the Nicaraguan courts and, ultimately, to history. This is what one would expect of a journalist of Goldman’s caliber, especially given the sensitive portrayal of Central America in his novels. But when it comes to the wider historical context within which this personal and political drama unfolded, Goldman exhibits no careful weighing of the evidence or attention to detail.
In Goldman’s version of history, for instance, Ronald Reagan “floridly celebrated the Contra rebels’ attempt to overthrow Ortega’s ‘totalitarian’ government.” Floridly celebrated? Even the most cursory reading of the Iran-Contra episode shows that the counterrevolutionary army was actually a creation of the U.S. government, fully armed, funded and directed by the CIA.
Goldman tends to reduce the revolution’s legacy and accomplishments to a caricature: “Ortega’s leadership was itself often brutal,” including “Cuban-style agricultural methods” and “the trampling of individual freedoms.” The rest is summed up with “30,000% inflation” while “shortages, rationing, and ‘states of emergency’ became the norm.” As Goldman himself admits, the economic costs of the “floridly-celebrated” Contra war were devastating to “Sandinista-inspired hopes of a benevolent socialism,” but the Contra war not only undermined “hopes,” it shattered an economy and crippled a real political and social project.
And despite all this, the record shows solid Sandinista accomplishments. On the question of agriculture, for example, the FSLN actually carried out one of the largest and most comprehensive agrarian reforms in Latin America. The state-farm sector, only superficially similar to Cuba’s, even at its peak included only 20% of the country’s arable land, and had dwindled to under 12% by 1990. By the time the Sandinistas left office, 43% of all peasant families in Nicaragua had received land, another 17% secure title to land, and nearly 30% of the land area under cultivation had changed hands.
Similarly, Goldman muddies the civil and human rights record of the FSLN by focusing on what he refers to as “civil repression.” It is clear that the Contra war did indeed occasion some restrictions of civil rights. But Goldman fails to give a full accounting, ignoring achievemerits such as the democratic elections of 1984 or the Constitution of 1987. He does cite Sandinista Vice President Sergio Ramirez (now Ortega’s political foe), who says that former combatants can still feel proud of having fought for democracy, and praises Ortega’s 1990 concession speech celebrating a victory for democracy as his “greatest political moment.” But Goldman then distorts the facts. In his discussion of the FSLN’s record as the opposition to the Chamorro government, the author accuses Ortega of having encouraged “wholesale takeovers of towns by soldiers loyal to the Sandinistas,” implying that regular army troops were involved. In fact, former soldiers (so-called recompas), disgruntled by the broken promises of Violeta Chamorro’s government, took over one town––Estelí––and were forcibly removed by the army under the direct orders of the President.
Goldman plays fast and loose with the FSLN’s record in opposition, its attempts––-not to mention actual achieve-ments at reform, and the party’s treatment of dissidents. It is true, as Goldman claims, that the FSLN is in crisis and that it has fallen short of a truly comprehensive makeover. But Goldman’s exclusive reliance on Ortega’s political foes and those who have left the party to make his case ignores the degree to which move-ments for reform continue to operate within the Frente as well as the extent of continued popular activism at its base.
This facile dismissal of the Nicaraguan left is no great surprise in the pages of the Times, but given Goldman’s prior record, one might have expected greater historical accuracy. Providing a clear picture of the shortcomings of Daniel Ortega and the Sandinistas is indeed crucial, but such a portrayal, and its value as a “lesson of history,” can only arise from a fair evaluation of the historical record. The defeats and failures of the Latin American left took place in a wider context that must also be rendered accurately. Otherwise we remain in the grip of an official memory which does its utmost to teach us that all social struggles are for naught.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Pierre LaRemée is the Executive Director of NACLA Report on the Americas
