Not Condemned To Repetition

The United States And Nicaragua

Robert Pastor

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9780367096588
• eBook ISBN: 9780429978258
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

Through the fall of Anastasio Somoza, the rise of the Sandinistas, and the contra war, the United States and Nicaragua seemed destined to repeat the mistakes made by the U.S. and Cuba forty years before. The 1990 election in Nicaragua broke the pattern. Robert Pastor was a major US policymaker in the critical period leading up to and following the Sandinista Revolution of 1979. A decade later after writing the first edition of this book, he organized the International Mission led by Jimmy Carter that mediated the first free election in Nicaragua's history. From his unique vantage point, and utilizing a wealth of original material from classified government documents and from personal interviews with U.S. and Nicaraguan leaders, Pastor shows how Nicaragua and the United States were prisoners of a tragic history and how they finally escaped. This revised and updated edition covers the events of the democratic transition, and it extracts the lessons to be learned from the past.

Part One
Setting the Stage

You are doubtless aware that the conduct of our relations with Nicaragua is considered by the peoples of other countries as a test of our policies.

SECRETARY OF STATE CORDELL HULL,
letter to the secretary of the navy, August 1936¹

¹Hull was reprimanding the secretary of the navy for praising Anastasio Somoza Garcia. Hull called the praise "unfortunate in every respect." Cited in Paul Coe Clark Jr., The United States and Somoza, 3953-56 (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1992), p. 43.

1
Declining Dictators, Rising Revolutions

"Revolution." In politics, an abrupt change in the form of misgovernment. Revolutions are usually accompanied by a considerable effusion of blood, but are accounted worth it—this appraisement being made by beneficiaries whose blood had not the mischance to be shed.

AMBROSE BIERCE, The Devil's Dictionary

"HE'S A SON OF A BITCH, but he's our son of a bitch." This comment about Anastasio Somoza by President Franklin Roosevelt has been widely known and used.¹ The Somoza family referred to it—to show they were tough, but their partner, the United States, was even tougher. Moderate critics of U.S. foreign policy cited the remark to show the myopia of a policy that supports right-wing dictators just because they are anti-Communist. Radical critics of the United States use the comment to show that U.S. assertions of idealism are hypocritical and mask a hegemonic or imperialistic purpose. Latin Americans referred to it to distinguish themselves from Somoza. The comment has been used by everyone to make so many points that no one has bothered to find out whether it was actually ever used by Franklin Roosevelt.

It probably wasn't. The first record of the statement is in a cover article on Somoza in Time magazine on November 15, 1948—three and a half years after Roosevelt died, and nine years after he was said to have made the comment. Donald Schewe, an archivist who worked at the FDR Library in Hyde Park for nine years, searched for the citation but never found it. However, after reading through thousands of pages of Roosevelt's correspondence, press conferences, and records, Schewe concluded "that was not the kind of language that Roosevelt used."² "Son of a bitch" was, however, the kind of language that Somoza always used.³

Some have suggested that the essence of U.S.-Nicaraguan relations can be found in the words attributed to Roosevelt. The real clue to the relationship, however, is in the way this apocryphal comment has been used. Although few believed the many outrageous statements of the Somoza family, many wanted to believe this statement because it was comfortable. It reinforced two myths—first, Somoza ruled only because of the support of the United States; and second, the United States prefers vassals and right-wing dictators. Somoza enjoyed the remark because he viewed the myth as a source of power. The United States, hardly a victim, did not mind the comment when it supported Somoza and could not dissociate itself from it when it did not.

Over time, as the Nicaraguan state developed, Somoza's myth backfired, antagonizing the nationalistic sensibilities of independent-minded people in Nicaragua and throughout Latin America. Indeed, the Sandinistas, who replaced Somoza, chose to use the mirror image of Somoza's myth—the United States as a hostile colossus—for the same purpose: to strengthen their regime. Instead of advertising U.S. friendship, the Sandinistas denounced U.S. imperialism in order to demonstrate their nationalist credentials and to attract youthful support.

"Nicaragua" and "the United States"—the ideas, not the nations—have often functioned as metaphors serving ulterior purposes. Among North Americans in the 1980s, "Nicaragua" became a metaphor for "Vietnam" or "Cuba," depending on one's political preferences, and to Nicaraguans, "the United States" was either savior or Satan. Both nations, of course, are more complicated than these metaphors, and their relationship—the subject of this book—is even more so.

The Ghost of Cuba Past

On July 17, 1979, Anastasio Somoza Debayle* resigned from the Presidency of Nicaragua, and three days later, a new government led by the Sandinista National Liberation Front (FSLN, or Frente) took power. The Carter administration had foreseen the possibility of a Sandinista victory about a year before it occurred. Viewing the key Sandinista military leaders as Marxist-Leninists who admired Cuba and despised the United States, the administration aimed to preclude a military victory by the Sandinistas but not to support Somoza, who was seen as indefensible. Over the course of the year, a subcommittee of the National Security Council met nearly twenty-five times to formulate policies to facilitate a peaceful democratic transition in Nicaragua and thus avoid a violent takeover by the Sandinistas.

In the middle of die crisis, a group of young, well-groomed Americans arrived in Managua with a quiet determination to solve the conflict through transcendental meditation.⁴ As it turned out, the U.S. government had about as much impact on the outcome of the Nicaraguan revolution as did this group.

How could that be? It was generally assumed by most Nicaraguans, ranging across the political spectrum from Somoza to the Sandinistas, that the United States was a crucial actor in Nicaraguan politics. While Nicaraguans were dying in Nicaragua, Somoza told reporters: "The battle is being fought in the U.S."⁵ Most of those who have written about the Nicaraguan revolution assumed that the U.S. role was decisive. If that was the case, why did it not prevent a Sandinista victory?

Two major critiques of U.S. policy answer that question, though their authors contradict each other in their description, interpretation, and judgment. Jeane Kirkpatrick, who would become President Ronald Reagan's ambassador to the UN, wrote two provocative essays for Commentary in which she interpreted the Carter administration's policy as designed "to weaken the government of Anastasio Somoza and to strengthen his opponents." Her judgment is that Carter's policy "brought down the Somoza regime."⁶

An alternative view is offered by William LeoGrande, a professor at American University, in an article in Foreign Affairs. He criticizes the policy for always being several steps behind events, as it "labored mightily ... to prevent the accession of a Sandinista government in Nicaragua." LeoGrande, Tom Farer, Shirley Christian, and others who have written about U.S. policy and the Nicaraguan revolution reach a conclusion the opposite of Kirkpatrick's—that the Carter policy failed precisely because it did not try to bring Somoza down.⁷

Ironically, both sides agree that the administration set an objective—in the first case, to bring down Somoza; in the second case, not to overthrow him—and achieved that objective, even though it was mistaken.

Analysts also differ on the causes of the policy failure. Whereas Kirkpatrick suggests that the Carter administration was insufficiently alert to the Communist involvement in the Nicaraguan opposition, Richard Fagen writes that the policy failed for the opposite reason—that the Administration's "twisted perceptions... [of a] Cuba-Sandinista connection" prevented it from taking the actions necessary to topple Somoza.⁸ William LeoGrande also attributes the failure to misperception: "the fear of'another Cuba,' and the questionable conviction that the radical opposition was intent on creating one."⁹

LeoGrande is correct that the Carter Administration feared "another Cuba," and that this concern influenced policy. Yet the Nicaraguan revolution evolved in ways that were strikingly reminiscent of the Cuban revolution twenty years before. Both revolutions were propelled by broad-based opposition to long-standing dictators who were despised by their own citizens and much of the international community. Rather than oppose the revolution, the middle class and the business community in both countries played leading roles, first in organizing general strikes, then in waiting for the United States to find a solution, and finally in ignoring U.S. advice and supporting the rebels. The United States deliberately withdrew support from the dictators and searched in vain for a middle, democratic option. Democratic leaders in Costa Rica and Venezuela passed arms covertly to rebel leaders in both cases.

In their memoirs, which were written for a North American, English-speaking audience, both dictators blamed the United States rather than themselves for their fall. A sense of déjà vu is perhaps most vividly conveyed, however, in the titles of those memoirs: Cuba Betrayed by Fulgencio Batista, and Nicaragua Betrayed by Anastasio Somoza, Jr.¹⁰

After the Sandinista triumph, many leaders—even Fidel Castro—expressed their hope that Nicaragua would not become another Cuba.¹¹ In Nicaragua and throughout the region, most hoped that the United States would support the revolution rather than confront it, and that is what the United States did at the beginning. But within eighteen months, the United States stopped supporting the Nicaraguan government and, one year after that, was financing a covert war to overthrow it. In the same period, the Sandinista government accelerated its revolution and became more dependent on Cuba and the Soviet bloc for military and economic aid.

The most fascinating and puzzling aspect of the Nicaraguan story was that all the key leaders in the United States, Nicaragua, and the neighboring countries were not simply aware of the Cuban events; they were preoccupied with the parallels. With the exception of Castro and the Sandinistas, they kept reminding each other during the revolution to avoid repeating the mistakes made in Cuba two decades before, but that's what they did. This was not only true of the United States, but of Venezuela, Costa Rica, the middle-class leadership in Nicaragua, and especially Anastasio Somoza.

The Cuban Drama in Seven Stages

What images of Cuba's history did decision-makers have in mind as they addressed the Nicaraguan crisis? The predominant image was of a long-standing dictator, Fulgencio Batista, who had been close to the United States, but whose repression sparked a general rebellion led by Fidel Castro, who professed democratic principles and overthrew Batista in 1959, The relationship between Castro and the United States deteriorated quickly Castro sought support from the Soviet Union, and the confrontation with the United States almost led to a nuclear war. Those were the broad outlines of the Cuban revolution, but the details are even more fascinating because they are so similar to what occurred in Nicaragua two decades later.

Indeed, the relationship between the United States, Cuba, and Nicaragua was shaped by U.S. intervention in both countries at the turn of the century. Washington withdrew its troops from both countries, but sent them back whenever there was instability. However, by the mid-1930s, the U.S. finally replaced its periodic interventionism with a rigid non-interventionism.

Although Havana was beset by terrorism, President Franklin Roosevelt rejected two requests by his Ambassador Sumner Welles to intervene: "Certainly, we cannot be in a position of saying to [Cuban President] Machado,'you have to get out.' That would be obvious interference in the internal affairs of another nation."¹² Welles continued to pressure Machado and conspire with the military, and on August 12, 1933, Machado left Cuba. The immediate effect was a period of instability and a political vacuum, which was filled by Sergeant Fulgencio Batista. As Chief of the Army, Batista ruled from behind the scenes until his election as President in 1940. By then, the United States was prepared to overlook the dictatorship because of the stability he brought to Cuba during a time of world war.

Batista relinquished power at the end of his term in 1944, but in 1952, he ran for President again. Behind in the polls, Batista staged a military coup in March of that year. On July 26, 1953, Fidel Castro led a group in a futile attempt to overthrow Batista. Castro was imprisoned, but Batista permitted him to leave the country.¹³ By Christmas of 1956, however, he returned to Cuba and, with twenty followers, had launched his revolution in the mountains of the Sierra Maestra. U.S.-Cuban relations then passed through seven stages.

1. IDENTIFICATION. U.S. Ambassador Arthur Gardner (1953-57) was effusive in his praise of Batista, and in the first stop of a Latin American tour, Vice President Richard Nixon reinforced the impression that the United States stood firmly behind the dictator. The opposition to Batista therefore identified the United States with the dictator, although at the same time it tried to persuade the United States to change its position.

In order to be recognized among all the opposition groups, Castro had an interview arranged for him with Herbert Matthews of the New York Times in February 1957 in the mountains. Awed by Castro and by what he thought was a band of about 200 (although only 18 at the time), Matthews' articles made Castro an international figure. On July 12, 1957, Castro issued a manifesto calling for free elections, agrarian reform, a constitutional government, and an end to foreign intervention.

2. DISTANCE AND DISSOCIATION. The State Department was increasingly worried about the deterioration in Cuba and attributed it to Batista. The United States pressured him to hold free elections in 1958, hoping that they would provide an escape valve for the political pressures that were building. Earl Smith, an investment banker, arrived as the new U.S. Ambassador in mid-July, and he made a good impression in the country by criticizing "excessive police action."¹⁴

The Catholic Church also contributed to Batista's isolation. On March 1, 1958, Cuban bishops called for an investigation of the regime's brutality and asked Batista to step down in favor of a government of national unity. The statement influenced public opinion against Batista in the United States, forcing the U.S. government to reevaluate its military aid program. On April 8, 1958, Secretary of State John Foster Dulles announced an arms embargo against Batista, saying: "We don't like to have them [arms] go where the purpose is to conduct a civil war."¹⁵ This was the clearest sign of U.S. dissociation from Batista. Hugh Thomas described the State Department's dilemma: "As democrats, they would have liked an alternative to Castro as a successor to Batista; but hostile to the idea of intervention, they shrank from any positive action to unseat Batista. The arms embargo seemed then the most positive form of negative action."¹⁶

3. THE LEFT LEGITIMIZED BY THE MIDDLE. Castro announced a general strike on April 9, 1958, and although it failed to unseat Batista, it added to his image as the center of the opposition. On July 20, 1958, representatives of all the opposition groups, including Castro's 26th of July, signed an agreement in Caracas—the "Caracas Pact"—which named an opposition government, with a moderate judge as president and Castro as commander-in-chief.

The Caracas s...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• List of Illustrations
• Preface
• Acknowledgments
• PART I: SETTING THE STAGE
• PART II: THE SUCCESSION CRISIS, 1977—1979
• PART III: RELATING TO THE REVOLUTION
• PART IV: THE DEMOCRATIC TRANSITION AND NICARAGUA'S LESSONS
• Notes
• Index