% FROM THE NOAM CHOMSKY ARCHIVE
% http://www.contrib.andrew.cmu.edu:/usr/tp0x/chomsky.html
% ftp://ftp.cs.cmu.edu/user/cap/chomsky/
% Filename:    articles/chomsky.z.democratic-decline
% Title:       The Decline of the Democratic Ideal
% Author:      Noam Chomsky
% Appeared-in: Z Magazine, May 1990
% Source:      ACTIV-L listserver file DEMOCRAT DECLINE
% Keywords:    Nicaragua, Contras, Chamorro, elections
% Synopsis:    Contrasts 1984 and 1990 Nicaragua elections
% See-also:    

               THE DECLINE OF THE DEMOCRATIC IDEAL
                          Noam Chomsky
                           March 1990
                      Z Magazine, May 1990


One fundamental goal of any well-conceived indoctrination program
is to direct attention elsewhere, away from effective power, its
roots, and the disguises it assumes. Thus to enter into debate
over Vietnam, or the Middle East, or Central America, one is
required to gain special knowledge of these areas while avoiding
scrutiny of the United States. Rational standards are permitted
for the study of Soviet intervention, which focusses on Moscow,
not Kabul and Prague; for us, however, the problems lie
elsewhere, not here. Respectable commentators can even speak of
``the tragic self-destruction of Central America,'' with the two
superpowers playing a (symmetrical) background role (Theodore
Sorenson). A similar comment about Eastern Europe would merely
arouse ridicule. {note: Sorenson, Op-Ed, _NYT_, Nov. 13, 1987.}

The serviceability of the doctrine is apparent. Those who hope to
understand world affairs will naturally resist it. The February
elections in Nicaragua are a case in point. The forces at work
within Nicaragua are surely worth understanding, the reactions to
the elections here no less so---far more so, in fact, in terms of
global import and long-term significance, given the scale and
character of U.S. power. These reactions provide quite
illuminating insight into the dominant political culture.  They
provide further and quite dramatic evidence that the concept of
democracy is disappearing even as an abstract ideal.


The Winner: George Bush

As a point of departure, consider a few reactions beyond the
borders. In Mexico City, the liberal _La Jornada_ wrote: ``After
10 years, Washington examines with satisfaction the balance of an
investment made with fire and blood . . ., an undeclared war of
aggression . . . The elections were certainly cleanly prepared
and conducted, but a decade of horror was behind them.''

While welcoming the electoral outcome, the right-wing daily _El
Universal_ acknowledged that ``The defeated Sandinista Front does
not have all of the responsibility for the disasters that have
fallen upon Nicaraguans. Its lead role in the construction of
Nicaragua in recent years cannot be denied, either. But the
voters have made an objective use of the essential prerogative of
democracy: to vote for who they believe can better their
situation,'' surely George Bush's candidate, in the light of
invariant U.S. policies that are as familiar to Latin Americans
as the rising of the sun. For the independent _El Tiempo_ in
Colombia, passionately opposed to ``frightening communism'' and
the Sandinistas who represent it on the continent, ``The U.S. and
President Bush scored a clear victory.'' {note: Cited in _World
Press Review_, April 1990.}

In Guatemala, the independent _Central America Report_
(Inforpress Centroamericana) concluded that ``Most analysts agree
that the UNO victory marks the consummation of the US
government's military, economic and political efforts to
overthrow the Sandinistas.'' Under the heading _The Winners_, the
journal added:

  US President George Bush emerged as a clear victor in the
  Nicaraguan elections. The decade-long Reagan/Bush war
  against Nicaragua employed a myriad of methods---both covert
  and open---aimed at overthrowing the Sandinistas. Bush's
  continuation of the two-pronged Reagan policy of economic
  strangulation and military aggression finally reaped tangible
  results. Following the elections, Ortega said that the
  outcome was not in retrospect surprising since the voters
  went to the polls ``with a pistol pointed at their heads''

---a conclusion that the journal accepts without comment. ``The
consensus attributes the population's defection . . . to the
critical economic crisis in Nicaragua,'' the report continues,
citing an editorial in the Guatemala City press that ``pointed
out that more than ten years of economic and military aggressions
waged by a government with unlimited resources created the
setting for an election determined by economic exhaustion.'' ``It
was a vote in search of peace by a people that, inevitably, were
fed up with violence,'' the Guatemala City editorial concluded:
``It is a vote from a hungry people that, more than any idea,
need to eat.''  {note: _Central America Report_, March 2, 1990.}

The analysis ends with this comment:

  ``While many observers today are remarking that never before
  has a leftist revolutionary regime handed over power in
  elections, the opposite is also true. Never has a popular
  elected leftist government in Latin America been allowed to
  undertake its reforms without being cut short by a coup, an
  invasion or an assassination''

---or, we may add, subversion, terror, or economic strangulation.

Readers in Guatemala, or elsewhere in Latin America, need no
further reminders of this truism. One will search far for any
hint of such a thought, let alone a discussion of what it
implies, in U.S. commentary. Even the fact that Nicaragua had a
popular elected government is inexpressible in the U.S.
propaganda system, with its standards of discipline that no
respectable intellectual would dare to flout.

Much of the press abroad saw the events in a similar light. The
editors of the London _Financial Times_ observe that ``The war
against the Contras has eroded the early achievements in health
and education of the Sandinista revolution and brought the
country close to bankruptcy.'' The victors, they add, are the
contras---which is to say, the White House, Congress, and the
support team who set up, maintained, and justified what was
conceded to be a ``proxy army'' by contra lobbyists, who hoped
that Washington might somehow convert its proxies into a
political force (Bruce Cameron and Penn Kemble of Freedom House);
in vain, despite resources and advantages undreamt of by
authentic popular and guerrilla movements. Their Managua
correspondent Tim Coone concludes that ``Nicaraguans appeared to
believe that a UNO victory offered the best prospect of securing
US funds to end the country's economic misery''---correctly, of
course. {note: _Financial Times_, Feb. 27, 1990. After noting
that the contra war brought the country close to bankruptcy, with
$12 billion in damages in addition to the vast costs of the
economic sanctions, they attribute primary responsibility to
Sandinista ``economic mismanagement'' and their ``totalitarian
system.'' I leave the logic to others to decipher. Cameron and
Kemble, _From a Proxy Force to a National Liberation Movement_,
ms, Feb. 1986, circulated privately in the White House.}

The left-wing Costa Rican journal _Mesoamerica_ added that ``the
Sandinistas fell for a scam perpetrated by Costa Rican President
Oscar Arias and the other Central American Presidents,'' which
``cost them the 25 Feb. elections.'' Nicaragua had agreed to
loosen wartime constraints and advance the scheduled elections by
a few months ``in exchange for having the _contras_ demobilized
and the war brought to an end.'' The White House and Congress
broke the deal at once, maintaining the contras as a military
force in violation of the agreements and compelling them to be
modified to focus on Nicaragua alone. With the deal effectively
broken, the U.S. candidate could promise to end the war, while
Ortega could not. ``War weary Nicaraguans voted for peace.'' The
operation was a stunning success for White House-Congress
duplicity, which succeeded brilliantly in undermining the
diplomatic settlement while the media provided their crucial
assistance by concealing the operation, a regular pattern in
Vietnam and the Middle East as well, as documented elsewhere.
{note: Tony Avirgan, _Mesoamerica_, March 1990; on the subversion
of the accords and the media role, see my _Culture of Terrorism_
(South End, 1988), _Necessary Illusions_ (South End, 1989). This
story is almost completely suppressed in the media and is
destined to be eliminated from history, along with earlier
similar successes in undermining diplomacy. _Ibid._; my _Towards
a New Cold War_ (Pantheon, 1982); Edward Herman and Noam Chomsky,
_Manufacturing Consent_ (Pantheon, 1988).}

In short, the winner of the elections was George Bush and the
Democrat-Republican coalition that waged ten years of economic
and military aggression, leaving a hungry and distraught people
who voted for relief from terror and misery. Democracy has been
dealt a serious blow, with a ``popular elected leftist
government'' replaced by one elected under duress, by violent
foreign intervention that proved decisive.


United in Joy

Returning home, we find a different picture. The _New Republic_
editorial on the elections is entitled ``Who Won Nicaragua?'' The
answer is: ``Why, the Nicaraguans, of course''---not George Bush
and U.S. aggression. ``Those who supported aid to the contras . .
., as did this magazine, can find considerable vindication in the
outcome,'' which ``made nonsense of both the left-wing myth that
anti-Yankeeism is the centerpiece of all Latin America's
political identity and the right-wing myth that Leninists can
never be induced to change.'' Adding what remains unsaid, the
former ``myth'' succumbed to the successful use of terror and
economic strangulation, and the latter is based on the loyal
denial of familiar and well-attested facts about ``the
Sandinistas, who had won free and fair elections in 1984''
(London _Observer_). ``Gratifying as the election results are,''
the editorial continues, ``democracy is not yet quite safe in
Nicaragua,'' and ``having served as an inspiration for the
triumph of democracy in our time, the United States now has an
opportunity to see to it that democracy
prevails''---``democracy,'' _New Republic_-style: the kind that
``prevails'' in the Central American domains where the U.S. has
had ample opportunity to entrench it, to take the obvious
example. {note: _TNR_, March 19; _Observer_, March 4, 1990.}

Perhaps it is unfair to illustrate U.S. reaction by a journal
that gave ``Reagan & Co. good marks'' for their support of state
terror in El Salvador as it reached Pol Pot levels in 1981, and
then, surveying the carnage three years later, advised Reagan &
Co. to explain to the American people that we must support
``Latin-style fascists,'' sending military aid ``regardless of
how many are murdered,'' because ``there are higher American
priorities than Salvadoran human rights.'' In assessing U.S.
political culture let us, then, put aside the more passionate
advocates of state terror---though not without noting that these
values, familiar from the Nazi era, in no way diminish the
reputation of the journal, or even merit a word of comment in
left-liberal circles. Let us concentrate attention, rather, on
what is called the ``establishment left'' by editor Charles
William Maynes of _Foreign Policy_. He is referring specifically
to the _New York Times_, but doubtless would include also the
_Washington Post_, the major TV news bureaus, the _Boston Globe_
(which perhaps qualifies as ``ultra-left''), and his own journal,
the more liberal of the two major foreign affairs quarterlies.
{note: For further details, see my _Turning the Tide_ (South End,
1985, 167f.).  Maynes, _Foreign Policy_, Spring 1990.}

Turning to the left, then, we begin with the _New York Times_,
where Elaine Sciolino reviewed the U.S. reaction to the
elections. The headline reads: ``Americans United in Joy, But
Divided Over Policy.'' The policy division turns out to be over
who deserves credit for the joyous outcome, so we are left with
``Americans United in Joy.'' {note: Sciolino, _NYT_, Feb. 27,
1990.}

Such phrases as ``United in Joy'' are not entirely unknown. One
might find them, perhaps, in the North Korean or Albanian press.
Obviously the issue was contentious, certainly to Nicaraguans, to
others in Latin America as well. But not to educated U.S.
elites, who are quite eager to depict themselves as dedicated
totalitarians.

The review of opinion opens by noting that ``the left and the
right and those in between [have] a fresh opportunity to debate
one of the United States's most divisive foreign policy issues of
the last decade.'' The left-right debate now reduces to who can
justly claim credit. Sciolino begins with eleven paragraphs
reviewing the position of the right, followed by five devoted to
the left. In the former category, she cites Elliott Abrams, Jeane
Kirkpatrick, Fred Ikle of the Pentagon, Oliver North, Robert
Leiken of the Harvard University Center for International
Affairs, and Ronald Reagan. They portray the outcome as
``spectacular,'' ``great, wonderful, stunning,'' a tribute to the
contras who, ``when history is written, . . . will be the folk
heroes,'' a victory ``for the cause of democracy'' in a ``free
and fair election.''

Sciolino then turns to the left: ``On the other side, Lawrence A.
Pezzullo, who was appointed Ambassador to Nicaragua by President
fantastic'.'' We return to

[text is missing here---JBE]

Pezzullo's left-wing credentials directly. The second
representative of ``the other side'' is Sol Linowitz, who, as
Carter Administration Ambassador to the Organization of American
States (OAS), sought in vain to mobilize Latin America in support
of Carter's program of ``Somocismo sin Somoza'' (``Somozism
without Somoza'') after the murderous tyrant could no longer be
maintained in power, and later urged pressures to make Nicaragua
more democratic---like El Salvador and Guatemala, both just fine
and hence needing no such pressures. The final representative of
the left is Francis McNeil, who quit the State Department in 1987
when his pessimism about contra military prospects aroused the
ire of Elliott Abrams. {note: On Linowitz, see below and _Culture
of Terrorism_, 119. McNeil, _War and Peace in Central America_
(Scribner's, 1988), 33.}

The last paragraph observes that some ``were not entirely
comfortable with the results'' of the election, citing Lawrence
Birns of the Council on Hemispheric Affairs, who ``seemed to side
with the Sandinistas,'' expressing his ``inner rage that the
corner bully won over the little guy.''

Sciolino remarks incidentally that ``Sandinista supporters
expressed sadness, and said that the defeat was a product of
Nicaragua's economic troubles---a result of the American trade
embargo and other outside pressures''---thus lining up with much
of Latin America. But recall that Americans were United in Joy.
By simple logic, it follows that these miscreants are not
Americans, or perhaps not people. Earlier _Times_ reporting
suggests the latter interpretation. Thus, when the _Times_
reported in 1985 that ``no one is arguing strenuously that [the
embargo] be amended,'' many featherless bipeds were arguing
strenuously that these murderous and illegal measures be not
merely amended but terminated. Evidently, then, they bore only a
superficial resemblance to the human race. {note: Clyde
Farnsworth, _NYT_, Nov. 10, 1985.}

Summarizing, there are ``two sides,'' the right and the left,
which differed on the tactical question of how to eliminate the
Sandinistas in favor of U.S. clients and are now ``United in
Joy.''

There is one person who _seems_ to side with the Sandinistas, but
couldn't _really_ be that far out of step, we are to understand.
And there are some non-Americans, or perhaps non-humans, who
share the exotic opinions of Latin Americans as to what happened
and why. Having failed to obey state orders, these strange
creatures are off the left-right spectrum entirely, and do not
participate in the great debate over the sole issue still
unresolved: Who deserves the credit for the happy outcome?

The _Times_ conception of the spectrum of opinion is, then, very
much like that of the editor of _Foreign Policy_. Or former
Undersecretary of State David Newsom, now director of the
Institute for the Study of Diplomacy at Georgetown University,
who urges ``the ideological extremes of the nation's political
spectrum'' to abandon the fruitless debate over the credits for
our victories. Or Jimmy Carter, who explained to the press that
his observer commission was ``carefully balanced---half Democrat
and half Republican,'' thus carefully balanced between two groups
that satisfy the prior condition of objectivity: passionate
opposition to the Sandinistas and support for Washington's
candidates. {note: Newsom, _Christian Science Monitor_, March 22,
1990; Mike Christensen, _NYT_ news service, Feb. 7, 1990.}

Throughout, we see with great clarity the image of a highly
disciplined political culture, deeply imbued with totalitarian
values.


The Case for the Doves

In the new phase of the debate, the right attributes the defeat
of the Sandinistas to the contras, while the left claims that the
contras impeded their effort to overthrow the Sandinistas by
other means. But the doves have failed to present their case as
strongly as they might. Let us therefore give them a little
assistance, meanwhile recalling some crucial facts that are
destined for oblivion because they are far too inconvenient to
preserve.

We begin with Lawrence Pezzullo, the leading representative of
the left in the _Times_ survey of opinion. Pezzullo was appointed
Ambassador in early 1979, at a time when Carter's support for the
Somoza tyranny was becoming problematic. Of course no one
contemplated any modification in the basic system of power,
surely no significant role for the Sandinistas (FSLN).  As
explained by Carter dove Robert Pastor, Director of Latin
American and Caribbean Affairs on the National Security Council,
there was complete agreement that Somoza's National Guard must be
kept intact, and it was not until June 29, shortly before the
end, that any participant in an NSC meeting ``suggested the
central U.S. objective was something other than preventing a
Sandinista victory.'' By then it was finally realized that means
must be sought ``to moderate the FSLN,'' who could not be
marginalized or excluded, as hoped. {note: Pastor, _Condemned to
Repetition_ (Princeton, 1987), 107, 157.}

As in U.S. political democracy generally, the Carter
Administration had its left-right spectrum. On the right,
National Security Adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski proclaimed that
``we have to demonstrate that we are still the decisive force in
determining the political outcomes in Central America,'' warning
of apocalyptic outcomes if the U.S. did not intervene. On the
left, Secretary of State Cyrus Vance and Assistant Secretary of
State for Inter-American Affairs Viron Vaky pursued a more
nuanced approach. Pezzullo's task was to implement the policy of
the left, that is, to bar the FSLN from power through the
``preservation of existing instititutions, especially the
National Guard'' (Vaky, June 15, 1979). This plan was proposed to
the OAS, but rejected by the Latin American governments, all
ultra-left extremists, by U.S. standards. Pezzullo was then
compelled to inform Somoza that his usefulness was at an end. On
June 30, he noted in a cable to Washington that ``with careful
orchestration we have a better than even chance of preserving
enough of the [National Guard] to maintain order and hold the
FSLN in check after Somoza resigns,'' even though this plan would
``smack somewhat of Somocismo sin Somoza,'' he added a few days
later.  For the ``successor government,'' the Carter
Administration approached Archbishop Obando y Bravo (in contrast,
our religious sensibilities are deeply offended by political
engagement of priests who envision a church that serves the poor)
and the right-wing businessman Adolfo Calero (later civilian
director of the main contra force); and for head of the National
Guard, it considered Colonel Enrique Bermudez, later contra
commander.  {note: _Ibid._, 161; Peter Kornbluh, _Nicaragua_
(Center for Policy Studies, Washington, 1987), 15f. For general
discussion, see Holly Sklar, _Washington's War on Nicaragua_
(South End, 1988).}

At the time, the National Guard was carrying out murderous
attacks against civilians, leaving tens of thousands killed.
Pezzullo recommended that the bloodbath be continued: ``I believe
it ill-advised,'' he cabled Washington on July 6, ``to go to
Somoza and ask for a bombing halt.'' On July 13, Pezzullo
informed Washington that the ``survivability'' of the Guard was
doubtful unless Somoza left, as he did, four days later, fleeing
to Miami with what remained of the national treasury. On July 19,
the game was over---that phase, at least. {note: Kornbluh, _op.
cit._}

As the FSLN entered Managua on July 19, the Carter Administration
``began setting the stage for a counterrevolution,'' Peter
Kornbluh observes, mounting a clandestine operation to evacuate
Guard commanders on U.S. planes disguised with Red Cross
markings.  This is a war crime punishable under the Geneva
conventions, the London _Economist_ observed years later, when
the same device was used to supply contras within Nicaragua
(pictures of CIA supply planes disguised with Red Cross markings
appeared without comment in _Newsweek_, while the vigorous
denunciation of this violation of international law by the Red
Cross passed without notice in the newspaper of record). Within
six months after the overthrow of Somoza, the Carter
Administration had initiated the CIA destabilization campaign,
inherited and expanded by the Reaganites. The Carter doves did
not give direct support to the National Guard forces that they
helped reconstitute, preferring to use the neo-Nazi Argentine
generals ``as a proxy for the United States'' (Rand Corporation
terrorism expert Brian Jenkins). The U.S. took over directly with
the Reagan presidency. {note: _Ibid._, 19; see _Culture of
Terrorism_, 86; Bob Woodward, _Veil_ (Simon & Schuster, 1987),
113; Jenkins, _New Modes of Conflict_ (Rand Corporation, June
1983).}

Pezzullo's next task was to ``moderate the FSLN.'' The Carter
doves proposed economic aid as ``the main source of U.S.
influence'' (Pastor). The U.S. business community supported this
plan, particularly U.S. banks, which, as noted in the London
_Financial Times_, were pressuring Carter to provide funds to
Nicaragua so that their loans to Somoza would be repaid (courtesy
of the U.S.  taxpayer, as in the Savings & Loan scam of the
Reagan years).  The banks were particularly concerned that if
Nicaragua, reduced to utter ruin and bankruptcy by the
U.S.-backed Somoza regime, were to default on the Somoza debt, it
would serve as a ``bad example'' for other U.S. clients. It was
also recognized that aid directed to anti-Sandinista elements in
the ruling coalition was the last remaining device to block the
FSLN and its programs.  {note: Pastor, _op. cit._, 157, 208--9;
Susanne Jonas, in Stanford Central America Action Network,
_Revolution in Central America_ (Westview, 1983), 90f.} After
Nicaragua reached a settlement with the banks, $75 million in aid
was offered, about 60% for the private business sector, with $5
million a grant for private organizations and $70 million a loan
(partly credits to buy U.S.  goods, another taxpayer subsidy to
corporations). One of the conditions was that no funds be used
for projects with Cuban personnel, a way of ensuring that nothing
would go to schools, the literacy campaign, health programs, or
other reform measures for which Nicaragua was likely to turn to
those with experience in such projects and willingness to serve.
Nicaragua had no choice but to agree, since, as the _Wall Street
Journal_ noted, without this ``signal of U.S. confidence in the
stability of the country'' there would be no bank loans, which
were desperately needed. Nicaragua's request for U.S. military
aid and training was rejected, and efforts to obtain such aid
from the West were blocked by U.S. pressure, compelling reliance
on East bloc aid as the external threat mounted. {note: _Ibid._;
Theodore Schwab and Harold Sims, in Thomas Walker, ed.,
_Nicaragua: the First Five Years_ (Westview, 1988), 461.}

As these events pass through the U.S. doctrinal system, they
undergo a subtle alchemy and emerge in a different form: The
Sandinistas ``enjoyed American encouragement at first; having
helped get rid of Somoza, the Carter administration also gave
them $75 million in aid. But when the Sandinistas brought in
Cuban and East German military advisers to help build their Army
into the region's largest fighting force, conflict with
Washington was sure to follow . . .'' (_Newsweek_). {note:
Charles Lane, _Newsweek_, March 12, 1990.}

Nicaragua also attempted to maintain its trade links with the
U.S. and the West, and succeeded in doing so through the
mid-1980s despite U.S. efforts. But Washington naturally
preferred that they rely on the East bloc, to ensure maximal
inefficiency and to justify the attack on these ``Soviet
clients.''  The U.S. also blocked aid from international
development organizations, and, after failing to displace the
FSLN, sought to destroy private business in Nicaragua to increase
domestic discontent and undermine the mixed economy (a major and
predicted effect of the Reagan embargo, and the reason why it was
bitterly opposed by the Nicaraguan opposition that the U.S.
claimed to support). {note: Walker, _Nicaragua: The Land of
Sandino_ (Westview, 1986), 67f.; Michael Conroy, in Walker, ed.,
_op.  cit._; _La Prensa_ (Managua), April 20, 1988, and Stephen
Kinzer, ``Anti-Sandinistas Say U.S. Should End Embargo,'' _NYT_,
Jan. 12, 1989.}

So enormous was the devastation left as Somoza's final legacy
that a World Bank Mission concluded in October 1981 that ``per
capita income levels of 1977 will not be attained, in the best of
circumstances, until the late 1980s'' and that ``any untoward
event could lead to a financial trauma.'' There were, of course,
``untoward events,'' but such facts do not trouble the ideologues
who deduce Sandinista responsibility for the subsequent economic
debacle from the doctrinal necessity of this conclusion. A
standard rhetorical trick, pioneered by the Kissinger Commission,
is to ``demonstrate'' Sandinista economic mismanagement by
comparing living standards of 1977 to those of the eighties, thus
attributing the effects of the U.S.-backed Somoza terror to the
Marxist-Leninist totalitarians. {note: Conroy, _op. cit._}

Despite the horrendous circumstances, Nicaragua's economic
progress through the early 1980s was surprisingly good, with the
highest growth rate in Central America by a large margin, an
improvement in standard of living in contrast to a substantial
fall for the rest of Central America and a somewhat lesser fall
for Latin America as a whole, and significant redistribution of
income and expansion of social services. In 1983, the
Inter-American Development Bank reported that Nicaragua's
``noteworthy progress in the social sector'' was ``laying a solid
foundation for long-term socio-economic development.'' The World
Bank and other international development organizations lauded the
``remarkable'' Nicaraguan record and outstanding success, in some
respects ``better than anywhere in the world'' (World Bank). But
U.S. pressures succeeded in terminating these dangerous
developments. By early 1987, business leader Enrique Bolanos,
well to the right of the UNO directorate, attributed the economic
crisis in Nicaragua to the war (60%, presumably including the
economic war), the international economic crisis (10%), the
contraction of the Central American Common Market (10%), and
decapitalization by the business sector and government errors
(20%). The London _Financial Times_ estimates the costs of the
contra war at $12 billion; UNO economist Francisco Mayorga adds
$3 billion as the costs of the embargo. Actual totals are
unknown, but plainly fall within the range of the ``untoward
events'' which, the World Bank predicted, would lead to
catastrophe. {note: _Ibid._, 232--3, 223, 239; Diana Melrose,
_Nicaragua: the Threat of a Good Example?_ (Oxfam, 1985); Sylvia
Maxfield & Richard Stahler-Sholk, in Walker, ed., _op. cit._;
Kornbluh, _op. cit._, 105f.; _Culture of Terrorism_, 52; Andrew
Marshall, _Financial Times_, Feb. 27; Christopher Marquis, _Miami
Herald_, Feb. 21, 1990.}

Naturally, the idea that the U.S. might pay reparations for what
it has done can be relegated to the same category as the notion
that it might observe international law generally: Too ludicrous
to merit a word of comment.

Underlying their various tactical moves, the Carter doves had a
strategic conception. Robert Pastor comments that ``The United
States did not want to control Nicaragua or the other nations in
the region, but it also did not want to allow developments to get
out of control. It wanted Nicaraguans to act independently,
_except_ when doing so would affect U.S. interests adversely.''
Nicaraguans, in short, should have complete freedom to do what we
want them to do, and need not be controlled unless they are out
of control. {note: Pastor, _op. cit._, 32 (his emphasis).}

Applying these principles to Nicaragua, Viron Vaky outlined ``the
principal arguments'' for supporting the contras: ``a longer war
of attrition will so weaken the regime, provoke such a radical
hardening of repression, and win sufficient support from
Nicaragua's discontented population that sooner or later the
regime will be overthrown by popular revolt, self-destruct by
means of internal coups or leadership splits, or simply
capitulate to salvage what it can''; another one of those cases
of ``the tragic self-destruction of Central America'' lamented by
Theodore Sorenson. The sole aim of Reagan policy, Vaky continues,
was ``a negotiation on the terms and schedule under which the
Sandinistas would turn over power,'' a goal that he sees as
``reasonable'' and ``idealistic,'' while acknowledging that the
U.S. proxy forces to which power is to be turned over ``have been
unable to elicit significant political support.'' {note: Vaky,
_Foreign Policy_, Fall 1987.}

As a dove, Vaky saw these goals as unattainable, and preferred
other measures (not excluding force) to ``contain'' the
Sandinista threat and promote ``the evolution of Nicaragua's
internal system into a more open, less virulent one,'' perhaps
even one as benign as in the U.S. terror states. In this way, he
concludes, we might be able to reach our ``objective of promoting
Nicaraguan self-determination,'' now happily achieved, at last.
The concept of democracy shines through bright and clear.

With a sufficiently powerful microscope one can distinguish this
left-wing perspective from that of the right, for example, the
DoD official who informed the press a few months later that a
small number of ``hard-core guys could keep some pressure on the
Nicaraguan government, force them to use their economic resources
for the military, and prevent them from solving their economic
problems---and that's a plus,'' because ``Anything that puts
pressure on the Sandinista regime, calls attention to the lack of
democracy, and prevents the Sandinistas from solving their
economic problems is a plus.'' {note: Doyle McManus, _Los Angeles
Times_, May 28, 1988.}

Nicaragua must be reduced to ``the Albania of Central America,''
a State Department insider is reported to have observed in 1981.
In a ``Latin American Albania . . . the Sandinista dream of
creating a new, more exemplary political model for Latin America
would be in ruins,'' John Carlin comments in the London
_Independent_. There would be no ``revolution without borders''
of the sort anticipated by Tomas Borge, with Nicaragua serving as
a model for its neighbors, the source of a well-known fraud
perpetrated by the government, the media, and segments of
scholarship. {note: See _Culture of Terrorism_, 219f.; _Necessary
Illusions_, 71f.}

Other government officials explained that they did not expect a
contra victory, but were ``content to see the contras debilitate
the Sandinistas by forcing them to divert scarce resources toward
the war and away from social programs''; the consequences could
then be adduced as proof of ``Sandinista mismanagement". Since
this understanding is common to hawks and doves, it is not
surprising that no reaction was evoked when it was reported in
the _Boston Globe_, just as no reaction was to be expected when
ex-CIA analyst David MacMichael testified at the World Court that
the goals of the contra program were to ``provoke cross-border
attacks by Nicaraguan forces and thus demonstrate Nicaragua's
aggressive nature'' and to pressure Nicaragua to ``clamp down on
civil liberties'' so as to demonstrate ``its allegedly inherent
totalitarian nature and thus increase domestic dissent within the
country.'' It is superfluous to document the enthusiasm with
which the educated classes undertook the task assigned to them in
these programs. {note: See my _Necessary Illusions_, 103, and _On
Power and Ideology_ (South End, 1986), 37--8. See these and other
sources cited here for further discussion of the context and
media performance.}

It thus made perfect sense for the U.S. command to direct its
proxy forces to attack ``soft targets''---that is, undefended
civilian targets---as SOUTHCOM commander General John Galvin
explained; to train the contra forces to ``attack a lot of
schools, health centers, and those sort of things'' so that ``the
Nicaraguan government cannot provide social services for the
peasants, cannot develop its project.'' ``That's the idea,''
contra Intelligence Chief Horacio Arce (_El Mercenario_) informed
the press in Mexico after defecting in November 1988 (but not the
U.S. press, which succeeded in evading such unpleasant
testimony). {note: _Necessary Illusions_, 204f., 71--2; _Culture
of Terrorism_, 43, 219--22.}

The Maynes-Sciolino left did not object to these policies in
principle. They had no fundamental disagremeent with the
conclusion of George Shultz's State Department that ``Nicaragua
is the cancer and [is] metastasizing'' and that ``the Sandinista
cancer'' must be removed, ``by radical surgery if necessary.''
{note: Bill Gertz, _Washington Times_, Dec. 5, 1988, citing a
leaked classified State Department report.} Furthermore, the
Carter doves effectively set these policies in motion. They can
therefore claim to have succeeded in their aims, as the election
showed. Their only fault was excessive pessimism over the
prospects of success of terror and economic warfare; in this
respect, the judgment of the right was correct, and it is
unreasonable for the left to deny that their right-wing opponents
had a sounder appreciation of the efficacy of state violence.
Thus left and right have every reason to be United in Joy at the
triumph of democracy, as they jointly conceive it: Free choice,
with a pistol to your head.


``Rallying to Chamorro''

The Kim Il Sung-style unanimity considered so natural and
appropriate by the _Times_ has, in fact, been characteristic of
the ``divisive foreign policy issue'' that is said to have rent
the United States in the past decade. As has been extensively
documented, both reporting and permissible opinion in the media
were virtually restricted to the question of the choice of means
for returning Nicaragua to ``the Central American mode.'' There
was indeed a ``division'': Should this result be achieved by
terror, or, if violence proved ineffective, by arrangements
enforced by the death squad democracies that already observe the
approved ``regional standards,'' as advocated by Tom Wicker and
other doves?  This spectrum of thought was safeguarded at a level
approaching 100% in the national press, a most impressive
achievement. {note: See _Necessary Illusions_; also
_Manufacturing Consent_.}

Pre-election coverage maintained the same high standards of
conformism. It was uniformly anti-Sandinista. The UNO coalition
were the democrats, on the sole grounds that the coalition had
been forged in Washington and included the major business
interests, sufficient proof of democratic credentials by the
conventions of U.S. political discourse. On similar assumptions,
Bob Woodward describes the CIA operations launched by Carter as a
``program to boost the democratic alternative to the
Sandinistas''; no evidence as to the concern for democracy is
provided, or needed, on the conventional understanding of the
concept of democracy.

Commentary and reporting on the Sandinistas was harsh and
derisive. Some did break ranks. The _Boston Globe_ ran an op-ed
by Daniel Ortega a few days before the election, but the editors
were careful to add an accompanying caricature of an ominous thug
in a Soviet Field Marshal's uniform wearing designer glasses,
just to ensure that readers would not be misled. {note: _BG_,
Feb. 22, 1990.} Media monitors have yet to come up with a single
phrase suggesting that an FSLN victory might be the best thing
for Nicaragua. Even journalists who privately felt that way did
not say it; not out of fear, I suppose, but because they took for
granted that such an idea would be unintelligible, on a par with
``the U.S. is a leading terrorist state,'' or ``Washington is
blocking the peace process,'' or ``maybe we should tell the truth
about Cambodia and Timor,'' or other departures from dogma. Such
statements lack cognitive meaning. They are imprecations, like
shouting ``Fuck You'' in public; they can only elicit a stream of
abuse, not a rational response. This is the ultimate achievement
of thought control, beyond what Orwell imagined. Large parts of
the language are simply ruled unthinkable. It all makes good
sense: In a Free Society, _all_ must march on command, or keep
silent. Anything else is just too dangerous.

There must have been departures somewhere, but the performance in
the mainstream would have impressed any dictator.

On TV, Peter Jennings opened the international news by announcing
that Nicaragua is going to have its ``first free election in a
decade.'' {note: ABC World News Tonight, Feb. 20, 1990.} Three
crucial doctrines are presupposed: (1) the elections under Somoza
were free; (2) there was no free election in 1984; (3) the 1990
election was free and uncoerced. A standard footnote is that
Ortega was driven to accept the 1990 elections by U.S. pressure;
here opinion divides, with the right and the left differing on
who deserves the credit for the achievement. Recall that truly
sophisticated propagandists understand that it is a mistake to
articulate basic doctrines, thus opening them to critical
reflection. Rather, they are to be presupposed, setting the
bounds of thinkable thought.

We may disregard point (1), though not without noting that it has
been a staple of the ``establishment left,'' with its frequent
reference to ``restoring democracy'' in Nicaragua. The second
point expresses a fundamental dogma, which brooks no deviation
and is immune to fact; I need not review this matter, familiar
outside of the reigning doctrinal system. The footnote ignores
the unacceptable (hence unreportable) fact that the next election
had always been scheduled for 1990, and that the total effect of
U.S. machinations was to advance it by a few months.

The most interesting point, however, is the third. Suppose that
the USSR were to follow the U.S. model as the Baltic states
declare independence, organizing a proxy army to attack them from
foreign bases, training its terrorist forces to hit ``soft
targets'' (health centers, schools, etc.) so that the governments
cannot provide social services, reducing the economies to ruin
through embargo and other sanctions, and so on, in the familiar
routine. Suppose further that when elections come, the Kremlin
informs the population, loud and clear, that they can vote for
the CP or starve. Perhaps some unreconstructed Stalinist might
call this a ``free and fair election.'' Surely no one else would.

Or suppose that the Arab states were to reduce Israel to the
level of Ethiopia, then issuing a credible threat that they would
drive it the rest of the way unless it ``cried uncle'' and voted
for their candidate. Someone who called this a ``democratic
election,'' ``free and fair,'' would be condemned as an outright
Nazi.

The pertinence of the analogies is obvious. Simple logic suffices
to show that anyone who called the 1990 Nicaraguan elections
``free and fair,'' a welcome step towards democracy, was not
merely a totalitarian, but of a rather special variety.  Fact:
That practice was virtually exceptionless. I have found exactly
_one_ mainstream journalist who was able to make the obvious
points. {note: Randolph Ryan, _BG_, Feb. 28. Also, outside the
mainstream, Alexander Cockburn in his monthly _Wall Street
Journal_ column, March 1. See also _New Yorker_, ``Talk of the
Town,'' March 12, 1990.} Surely other examples must exist, but
the conclusion, which we need not spell out, tells us a great
deal about the dominant intellectual culture.

It was apparent from the outset that the U.S. would never
tolerate free and fair elections, as I have been emphasizing in
these columns since the campaign opened in October. The point was
underscored by repeated White House statements that the terror
and economic war would continue unless a ``free choice'' met the
conditions of the Enforcer. It was made official in early
November when the White House announced that the embargo would
continue unless the population followed U.S. orders. In a
political culture that is more free and independent than ours---
the military-run terror state of Guatemala, for example---the
media had no difficulty perceiving these trivialities, as we have
already seen.

To be sure, the kinds of ``divisions'' that the _Times_ perceives
were to be found here as well. There were a few who simply denied
that the military and economic wars had any notable impact; what
could a mere $15 billion and 30,000 dead mean to a society as
rich and flourishing as Nicaragua after Somoza? {note: See, e.g.,
Robert Leiken, _BG_, March 4, 1990, reprinted from the _Los
Angeles Times_.} Turning to those who tried to be serious, we
find the usual two categories. The right didn't mention these
crucial factors, and hailed the stunning triumph of democracy.
The establishment left did mention them, and _then_ hailed the
stunning triumph of democracy. Still keeping to that sector of
opinion, let us consider a few examples to illustrate the
pattern.

Michael Kinsley, who represents the left on the _New Republic_
editorial staff and in CNN television debate, presented his
analysis of the election in the journal he edits (reprinted in
the _Washington Post_). {note: Kinsley, _NR_, March 19; _WP_,
March 1, 1990.} He recalled an earlier article of his, omitting
its crucial content: that terrorist attacks against civilian
targets are legitimate if a ``cost-benefit analysis'' shows that
the ``blood and misery that will be poured in'' yields
consequences that he takes to be favorable. This doctrine, which
could readily be accepted by Abu Nidal, helps us situate the
establishment left in the general spectrum. {note: See _Culture
of Terrorism_, 77--8.} Kinsley then observes that ``impoverishing
the people of Nicaragua was precisely the point of the contra war
and the parallel policy of economic embargo and veto of
international development loans,'' and it is ``Orwellian'' to
blame the Sandinistas ``for wrecking the economy while devoting
our best efforts to doing precisely that.'' ``The economic
disaster was probably the victorious opposition's best election
issue,'' he continues, and ``it was also Orwellian for the United
States, having created the disaster, to be posturing as the
exhorter and arbiter of free elections.''

Kinsley then proceeds to posture, Orwellian-style, as the arbiter
of free elections, hailing the ``free election'' and ``triumph of
democracy,'' which ``turned out to be pleasanter than anyone
would have dared to predict.''

At the extreme of the establishment left, Anthony Lewis of the
_New York Times_ writes that ``the Reagan policy did not work. It
produced only misery, death and shame.'' Why it did not work, he
does not explain; it appears to have worked very well, including
those parts that were supported throughout by the doves. Lewis
then proceeds to hail ``the experiment in peace and democracy,''
which ``did work.'' This triumph of democracy, he writes, gives
``fresh testimony to the power of Jefferson's idea: government
with the consent of the governed, as Vaclav Havel reminded us the
other day. To say so seems romantic, but then we live in a
romantic age.'' We are ``dizzy with success,'' as Stalin used to
say, observing the triumph of our ideals in Central America and
the Caribbean, the Philippines, the Israeli-occupied territories,
and other regions where our influence reaches so that we can take
credit for the conditions of life and the state of freedom.
{note: _NYT_, March 2, 1990.}

The reference to Havel merits some reflection. Havel's address to
Congress had a remarkable impact on the political and
intellectual communities. ``Consciousness precedes Being, and not
the other way around, as the Marxists claim,'' Havel informed
Congress to thunderous applause; in a Woody Allen rendition, he
would have said ``Being precedes Consciousness,'' eliciting
exactly the same reaction. But what really enthralled elite
opinion was his statement that the United States has ``understood
the responsibility that flowed'' from its great power, that there
have been ``two enormous forces---one, a defender of freedom, the
other, a source of nightmares.'' We must put ``morality ahead of
politics,'' he went on. The backbone of our actions must be
``responsibility---responsibility to something higher than my
family, my country, my company, my success.'' To be moral, then,
we must not shirk our responsibility to suffering people in the
Dominican Republic, Timor, Vietnam, Guatemala, El Salvador,
Mozambique, and others like them throughout the world who can
offer direct testimony to the great works of the ``defender of
freedom.'' {note: See Excerpts, _NYT_, Feb. 22; _WP weekly_,
March 5, 1990.}

These thoughts evoked an overwhelming reaction. Lewis was not
alone in being entranced. The _Washington Post_ described them as
``stunning evidence'' that Havel's country is ``a prime source''
of ``the European intellectual tradition,'' a ``voice of
conscience'' that speaks ``compellingly of the responsibilities
that large and small powers owe each other.'' The _Boston Globe_
hailed Havel for having ``no use for cliches'' as he gave us his
``wise counsel'' in a manner so ``lucid and logical.'' Mary
McGrory reveled in ``his idealism, his irony, his humanity,'' as
he ``preached a difficult doctrine of individual responsibility''
while Congress ``obviously ached with respect'' for his genius
and integrity. Columnists Jack Germond and Jules Witcover asked
why America lacks intellectuals so profound, who ``elevate
morality over self-interest'' in this way. A front-page story in
the _Globe_ described how ``American politicans and pundits are
gushing over'' Havel, and interviewed locals on why American
intellectuals do not approach these lofty heights. {note:
Editorial, _WP_, Feb.  26; _BG_, Feb. 23, Feb. 26; Feb. 24;
Charles Radin, March 1, 1990.}

This reaction too provides a useful mirror for the elite culture.

Putting aside the relation of Being to Consciousness, the
thoughts that so entranced the intellectual community are, after
all, not entirely unfamiliar. One finds them regularly in the
pontifications of fundamentalist preachers, Fourth of July
speeches, American Legion publications, the journals and
scholarly literature generally, indeed, everywhere. Who can have
been so remote from American life as not to have heard that we
are ``the defender of freedom'' and that we magnificently satisfy
the moral imperative to be responsible not just to ourselves, but
to the Welfare of Mankind? There is only one rational
interpretation. Liberal intellectuals secretly cherish the
pronouncements of Pat Robertson and the John Birch society, but
are embarrassed to say so; they can therefore gush in awe when
these very same words are produced by Vaclav Havel.

Havel's ``voice of conscience'' has another familiar counterpart.
In the Third World, one sometimes hears people say that the
Soviet Union defends our freedom while the U.S. government is a
nightmare. I have heard such sentiments in remote villages in
Vietnam in areas destroyed by U.S. bombardment, in the
Israeli-occupied territories, and other places, as have many
others. Journalist T.D. Allman, who wrote one of the few serious
articles on El Salvador in the early eighties, described a visit
to a Christian base community, subjected to the standard practice
of the U.S.-backed security forces, where an old man told him
that he had heard of a country called Cuba across the seas that
might have concern for their plight, and asked Allman to ``tell
us, please, sir, how we might contact these Cubans, to inform
them of our need, so that they might help us.'' {note:
_Harper's_, March 1981.}

Let us now try another thought experiment. Suppose a villager in
Vietnam, or Allman's Salvadoran peasant, had reached the Supreme
Soviet to orate about moral responsibility and the confrontation
between two powers, one a nightmare and the other a defender of
freedom. There would doubtless have been a rousing ovation, while
every party hack in _Pravda_ would have gushed with enthusiasm. I
do not, incidentally, mean to draw a comparison to Havel. It is
easy to understand that the world might look this way to someone
whose experience is limited to U.S. bombs and U.S.-trained death
squads on the one hand, and, on the other, Soviet tractors and
anti-aircraft guns, and dreams of rescue by Cubans from
unbearable torment. For victims of the West, the circumstances of
existence---incomparably worse than those of Eastern
Europe---make the conclusion plausible while barring knowledge of
a broader reality. Havel and those who gush over his familiar
pieties can claim no such excuse.

We once again learn something about ourselves, if we choose. The
other _Times_ spokesman for the left, Tom Wicker, followed the
same script. He concludes that the Sandinistas lost ``because the
Nicaraguan people were tired of war and sick of economic
deprivation.'' But the elections were ``free and fair,''
untainted by coercion. {note: _NYT_, March 1, 1990.}

At the dissident extreme, William LeoGrande also hailed the
promise of the ``democratic elections in Nicaragua,'' while
noting that ``In the name of democracy, Washington put
excruciating military and economic pressure on Nicaragua in order
to force the Sandinistas out of power.'' Now, he continues, ``the
United States must show that its commitment to democracy in
Central America extends to pressuring friendly conservative
governments as well.''  Thus, having demonstrated its
``commitment to democracy'' by terror and economic warfare, the
U.S. should ``extend'' this libertarian fervor to pressure on its
friends. {note: _NYT_, March 17, 1990.}

Turning to the shining light of American liberalism, the lead
editorial in the _Boston Globe_ was headlined ``Rallying to
Chamorro.'' All those who truly ``love Nicaraguans,'' editorial
page editor Martin Nolan declared, ``must now rally to
Chamorro.''  Suppose that in 1964 someone had said that all
Goldwater supporters ``must now rally to Johnson.'' Such a person
would have been regarded as a throwback to the days when the
Gauleiters and Commissars recognized that everyone must rally
behind der Fuehrer. In Nicaragua, which has not yet risen to our
heights, no one issued such a pronouncement. We learn more about
the prevailing conception of democracy. {note: Nolan, _BG_, Feb.
27, 1990. Nolan identified himself to the _Nation_ as the author
of these fine words.}

Nolan goes on to explain that ``Ortega was not an adept
politician. His beloved masses could not eat slogans and voted
with their stomachs, not their hearts.'' If Ortega had been more
adept, he could have provided them with food---by following
Nolan's advice and capitulating to the master. Now, in this
``blessing of democracy,'' ``at long last, Nicaragua itself has
spoken''---freely and without duress, wherever ``their hearts''
may have been.

_Times_ correspondent David Shipler contributed his thoughts
under the headline ``Nicaragua, Victory for U.S. Fair Play.''
Following the liberal model, Shipler observes that ``it is true
that partly because of the confrontation with the U.S.,
Nicaragua's economy suffered terribly, setting the stage for the
widespread public discontent with the Sandinistas reflected in
Sunday's balloting.'' Conclusion? ``The Nicaraguan election has
proved that open, honorable support for a democratic process is
one of the most powerful foreign policy tools at Washington's
disposal''---to be sure, after imposing ``terrible suffering'' to
ensure the proper outcome in a ``Victory for U.S. Fair Play.''
Shipler adds that now Nicaragua ``needs help in building
democratic institutions''---which he and his colleagues are
qualified to offer, given their profound understanding of true
democracy. {note: Op-Ed, _NYT_, March 1, 1990.}

In _Newsweek_, Charles Lane recognized that U.S. efforts to
``democratize Nicaragua'' through the contra war and
``devastating economic sanctions'' carried ``a terrible cost,''
including 30,000 dead and another half million ``uprooted from
their homes,'' ``routine'' resort to ``kidnapping and
assassination,'' and other unpleasantness. So severe were the
effects that ``by the end of 1988, it was pride alone that kept
the Sandinistas from meeting

[text is missing here---JBE]

cry uncle'!'' But the population finally voted for ``a chance to
put behind them the misery brought on by 10 years of revolution
and war.'' ``In the end, it was the Nicaraguans who won
Nicaragua.'' We must ``celebrate the moment'' while reflecting
``on the peculiar mix of good intentions and national
insecurities that led us to become so passionately involved in a
place we so dimly understood.'' {note: Lane, _op. cit._, possibly
also the author of the unsigned _New Republic_ editorial cited in
note 5, to judge by the similarity of wording.}

The moral cowardice reeks even more than the hypocrisy.

Editorials in the national press hailed ``the good news from
Nicaragua,'' ``a devastating rebuke to Sandinistas,'' which
``will strengthen democracy elsewhere in Central America as
well'' (_New York Times_). The editors do recognize that one
question is ``debatable,'' namely, ``whether U.S. pressure and
the contra war hastened or delayed the wonderful breakthrough.''
But ``No matter; democracy was the winner,'' in elections free
and fair. Note that this contribution falls on the
``conservative'' side of the debate: No mention of the crucial
factors, rather than mention and dismissal, as in the liberal
model. The _Washington Post_ editors hoped that these elections
would launch ``Nicaragua on a conclusive change from a
totalitarian to a democratic state,'' but are not sure. ``The
Masses Speak in Nicaragua,'' a headline reads, employing a term
that is taboo apart from such special occasions.

The _Christian Science Monitor_ exulted over ``another stunning
assertion of democracy,'' an unflawed triumph. {note: _NYT_, Feb.
27; _WP_-_Manchester Guardian Weekly_, March 11, _WP weekly_,
March 5; _CSM_, Feb. 28, 1990.}

Perhaps that is enough. I have sampled only the less egregious
cases, avoiding the right. It would be hard to find an exception
to the pattern.

Several features of the election coverage are particularly
striking: the extraordinary uniformity; the hatred and contempt
for democracy revealed with such stark clarity across the
political spectrum; and the utter incapacity to perceive these
simple facts. Exceptions are marginal indeed.


Within Nicaragua

I have kept to the factual circumstances and the reaction here,
saying nothing about why Nicaraguans voted as they did under the
conditions imposed upon them by the terrorist superpower, an
important question, but a different one. But the Nicaraguan
reaction merits a few comments for what it shows about U.S.
political culture.

Within the United States, the standard reaction was joyous
acclaim for the Nicaraguan ``masses'' who had triumphed over
their oppressors in fair elections. In Nicaragua, the reaction
seems to have been rather different. After informing us that the
winners were ``the Nicaraguans, of course,'' the _New Republic_
turns to its Managua correspondent Tom Gjelten, who writes: ``UNO
victory rallies were small, mostly private affairs, and there was
no mass outpouring into the streets. Most people stayed home.''
Almost a month after the elections, AP reported that ``UNO
supporters still have not held a public celebration.'' Many other
reports from around Nicaragua confirm the somber mood, which
contrasts strikingly to the Unity in Joy here. The comparison may
suggest something about who won and who lost, but the thought was
not pursued---here, that is; in Latin America, the meaning was
taken to be clear enough. {note: Gjelten, _New Republic_, March
19 (written weeks earlier; I am concerned only with the facts he
describes, not his personal interpretation of them); Candice
Hughes, AP, March 19, 1990.}

AP reporter Candice Hughes filed an interesting report from
Bluefields on the Atlantic Coast, where ``Anti-communism runs
deep, a legacy of the region's ties to the Yankees who mined its
gold, cut its lumber, fished its waters, and to the missionary
fervor of the Moravians and the Capuchin priests who educated its
children''; a well-known center of opposition to the Sandinistas
with close ties of travel and trade with the United States, so
much so that ``anti-Cuban riots erupted when the government
announced plans to send in more teachers'' in 1980. A Cuban
medical brigade has been working in Bluefields, ``15 idealistic
envoys of a revolution becoming isolated and stale,'' along with
a construction brigade that is building 5,000 homes to replace
those destroyed in Hurricane Joan (which devastated the region,
eliciting aid from Cuba and U.S. citizens who are non-Americans
by _Times_ standards, but few others). The Cubans are living in a
complex they built that will become a university when they leave.
They stayed home after the elections, and ``Bluefields got a
taste of life without the Cubans,'' as ``things fell apart'' at
the hospital and construction stopped. ``After two days,
community leaders went to the Cubans and persuaded them to return
to work, reassuring them they were not only safe, but desperately
needed.  The experience converted all but the most fervent
anti-communists in Bluefields,'' the Nicaraguan doctor who
directs the local hospital said: ``People changed colors like
chameleons.'' Hughes reports that ``today, many Bluefilenos dread
the Cubans' departure,'' which ``would strip Nicaragua's isolated
South Atlantic coast'' of its major medical services and ``would
shatter the vision'' of the ``sturdy new homes replacing shacks
flattened by Hurricane Joan.'' {note: AP, March 18, 1990.}

Yet another Nicaraguan reaction is described by _Times_ reporter
Larry Rohter, in a typically bitter and scornful condemnation of
the ``internationalists,'' who carry out such despicable
activities as fixing bicycles and distributing grain ``to child
care centers and maternity clinics,'' and who intend to continue
``serving the vast majority of workers and peasants whose needs
have not diminished,'' an activist in the Casa

[text is missing here---JBE]

Benjamin Linder says.  Rohter quotes Vice President-elect
Virgilio Godoy, who says that the new government will keep a
close eye on these intruders: ``we are not going to permit any
foreigner to interfere in our domestic political problems.''
{note: Rohter, _NYT_, March 13, 1990.}

In a well-disciplined society, no one laughs when such statements
are reported. Under the totalitarian Sandinistas, foreigners were
permitted to forge a political coalition based upon the terrorist
force they created to attack the country and to pour millions of
dollars into supporting it. Foreigners engaged in what the World
Court condemned as ``the unlawful use of force'' against
Nicaragua were nevertheless allowed to fund a major newspaper
that called for the overthrow of the government and openly
identified with the terrorist forces pursuing these ends, proxies
of the foreign power funding the journal. Under these
totalitarians, such foreigners as Jeane Kirkpatrick and U.S.
Congressmen were permitted to enter the country to present public
speeches and news conferences calling for the overthrow of the
government by violence and supporting the foreign-run terrorist
forces. ``Human Rights'' investigators accompanied by contra
lobbyists posing as ``experts'' were permitted free access, along
with journalists who were scarcely more than agents of the
foreign power attacking the country. Nothing remotely resembling
this record can be found in Western democracies; in the United
States, Israel, England, and other democracies, such freedoms
would be inconceivable, even under far less threat, as the
historical record demonstrates with utter clarity.

But now, at last, totalitarianism is yielding to freedom, so
Nicaragua will no longer tolerate ``interference'' from
foreigners who have the wrong ideas about how to contribute to
reform and development, foreigners who are not working for the
violent overthrow of the government but rather are supporting the
only mass-based political force in the country.

In short, freedom in Nicaragua is over, so, naturally,
``Americans are United in Joy.'' Again we see exactly what is
meant by ``freedom'' and ``democracy'' in the elite political
culture.


Looking Ahead

Let us depart now from the factual record and turn to a few
speculations.

A fundamental goal of U.S. policy towards Latin America (and
elsewhere), long-standing and well-documented, is to take control
of the police and military so as to assure that the population
will not act upon unacceptable ideas. As Edward Herman has
observed, just as there are ``worthy and unworthy victims'' (the
worthy being those persecuted by official enemies, who arouse
great anguish, the unworthy being our victims, whose fate is
therefore a matter of indifference), so there are ``worthy and
unworthy armies.'' Worthy armies, such as those of Somoza, El
Salvador, Guatemala, South Africa, or Indonesia, need no
interference, because they are doing their job quite
satisfactorily. Unworthy armies, which do not meet these high
standards, must be reformed. In Nicaragua, then, the goal will be
to restore something like the Somozist National Guard, following
the prescriptions of the Carter doves.

A secondary goal is to destroy any independent press. Sometimes
this requires murderous violence, as in El Salvador and
Guatemala. The broad elite approval of the practice is evident
from the reaction when it is carried out; typically, silence,
coupled with praise for the advances towards democracy.
Sometimes market forces suffice, as in Costa Rica, where the
Spanish language press is a monopoly of the ultra-right, so there
are no concerns about freedom of the press.

More generally, there are two legitimate forces in Latin America:
First and foremost, the United States; secondarily, the local
oligarchy, military, and business groups that associate
themselves with the interests of U.S. economic and political
elites. If these forces hold power without challenge, all is
well. The playing field is level, and if formal elections are
held, it will be called ``democracy.'' If there is any challenge
from the general population, a firm response is necessary. The
establishment left and right will typically differ over tolerable
levels of atrocities, repression, and general misery.

In Nicaragua, it will not be so simple to attain the traditional
objectives. Any resistance to them will, of course, be condemned
as ``Sandinista totalitarianism.'' One can write the editorials
in advance, just as those with sufficient literary skill might be
able to write the unpublishable editorials on the reality of life
in U.S. domains.

Perhaps the political coalition constructed by Washington will be
unable to meet the demands imposed upon it by the master. If so,
new managers will be needed. It is clear where to turn. There is
a mass-based political organization, and if it can be brought to
heel, perhaps it can be assigned the task. The point was made
obliquely by the _Wall Street Journal_, in its triumphal
editorial on the elections. ``In time,'' the editors wrote,
``Daniel Ortega may discover the moderating influences of
democratic elections, as did Jamaica's Michael Manley, himself
formerly a committed Marxist.'' {note: _WSJ_, March 1, 1990.}
Translating from Newspeak, the U.S. may have to try the Jamaica
model, first working to undermine and destroy a popular movement,
then lavishly supporting the preferred capitalist alternative
that proved to be a miserable failure, then turning to the
populist Manley to manage the resulting disaster---but _for us_,
now that he and the population generally have been tamed, and
understand that they have no choice but to follow orders.

The point is widely understood, though generally left tacit in
the media. As if by instinct, when the election returns were
announced, Ortega was instantaneously tranformed from a villain
to a statesman, with real promise. He can be kept in the wings,
to be called upon if needed to follow our directions.

The policy is routine. Once popular movements are crushed, once
the dream of a better future is abandoned and ``the masses''
understand that their only hope is to shine shoes for whitey,
then it makes good sense to allow a ``democratic process'' that
may even bring former enemies to power. They can then administer
the ruins, for us. A side benefit is that populist forces are
thereby discredited. Thus the U.S. was quite willing to permit
Manley to take over after the failure of the Reaganite free
market experiment, and would observe with equanimity (indeed,
much pride in our tolerance of diversity) if Juan Bosch wins the
elections in the Dominican Republic. There is no longer any need
to send the Marines to bar him from office as in 1965, when the
population arose, defeating the army and restoring the populist
constitutional regime that had been overthrown by a U.S.-backed
coup. After years of death squads, starvation, mass flight of
desperate boat people, and takeover of the rest of the economy by
U.S. corporations, we need not be troubled by democratic forms.
On the same reasoning, it is sometimes a good idea to encourage
Black mayors---if possible, civil rights leaders---to preside
over the decline of what is left of the inner cities of the
domestic Third World. Once demoralization is thorough and
complete, they can run the wreckage and control the population.
Perhaps Ortega and the Sandinistas, having come to their senses
after a dose of reality administered by the guardian of order,
will be prepared to take on this task if the chosen U.S. proxies
fail.

If all works well, Maynes's establishment left will once again be
able to celebrate what he calls the U.S. campaign ``to spread the
cause of democracy.'' It is true, he observes, that sometimes
things don't quite work out. Thus ``specialists may point out
that the cause of democracy suffered some long-run setbacks in
such places as Guatemala and Iran because of earlier CIA
successes' in overthrowing governments there,'' but ordinary folk

[text is missing here---JBE]

will not be troubled by the human consequences of these setbacks.

More successful is the case of the Dominican Republic, or
Grenada, where the cause of democracy triumphed at not too great
a cost to us, ``and the island has not been heard from since.''
There has been no need to report the recent meaningless
elections, the social dissolution and decay, the state of siege
instituted by the official democrats, the decline of conditions
of life, and other standard concomitants of ``the defense of
freedom.'' Perhaps, with luck, Nicaragua will prove to be a
success of which we can be equally proud. Panama is already well
along the familiar road.

While the official left and right differ in their tolerance for
atrocities and misery, we should bear in mind that the standards
are quite high, on all sides. As an illustration, consider the
events of March 22--24 in El Salvador, a three-day commemoration
of the tenth anniversary of the assassination of Archbishop
Romero. ``The poor, the humble and the devout flocked by the
thousands'' to honor his memory at a Mass in the cathedral where
he was murdered, AP reported, filling the plaza and the streets
outside after a march led by 16 bishops, three from the United
States. Romero is being formally proposed for sainthood by the
Salvadoran Church---the first such case since Archbishop Thomas a
Becket was assassinated at the altar over 800 years ago.
Americas Watch published a report on the shameful decade,
symbolically bounded by ``these two events---the murder of
Archbishop Romero in 1980 and the slaying of the Jesuits in
1989'' ---which offer ``harsh testimony about who really rules El
Salvador and how little they have changed,'' people for whom
``priest-killing is still a preferred option'' because they
``simply will not hear the cries for change and justice in a
society that has had too little of either.'' In his homily,
Archbishop Romero's successor, Archbishop Arturo Rivera y Damas,
said that ``For being the voice of those without voice, he was
violently silenced.''  {note: Douglas Grant Mine, AP, March 23,
24; Americas Watch, _A Year of Reckoning_, March 1990.}

The victims remain without voice, and the Archbishop remains
silenced as well. No high-ranking official of the Cristiani
government or his Arena party attended the Mass, not even their
leader Roberto d'Aubuisson, assumed to be responsible for the
assassination in coordination with the U.S.-backed security
forces. The U.S. government was also notable for its absence.
The anniversary passed with scarcely a notice in the country that
funds and trains the assassins. Not a great surprise, after all,
considering that from the start the media suppressed the
circumstances of the assassination, the evidence of military
complicity, and the role of the U.S. government in the background
events and the aftermath. The assassination did not even merit an
editorial in the _New York Times_. Why trouble, then, to remember
ten years later? {note: I saw one notice of the anniversary, in
the religion pages of the _Boston Globe_, by Richard Higgins, who
is writing a book about Romero: ``Religion Notebook,'' _BG_,
March 24, 1990, p. 27. On the record of suppression and
distortion of the assassination, see _Turning the Tide_, 103f.;
_Manufacturing Consent_, 48ff.}

There should be no further embarrassment, however---assuming that
there is any now. This will be the last public religious homage
to Romero for decades, because Church doctrine prohibits homage
for candidates for sainthood. Revulsion at the assassination of
Thomas a Becket compelled King Henry II, who was held to be
indirectly responsible, to do penance at the shrine.  One will
wait a long time for a proper reenactment, another sign of the
progress of civilization.

Outside of the official left-right spectrum, the non-people have
other values and commitments, and a quite different understanding
of responsibility to something other than ourselves and of the
cause of democracy and freedom. They will also understand that
solidarity work is now becoming even more critically important
than before. Every effort will be made to de-educate the general
population so that they sink to the intellectual and moral level
of the cultural and social managers. Those who do not succumb
have a historic mission, and should not forget that.