TIME: Almanac 1995

home *** CD-ROM | disk | FTP | other *** search

/ TIME: Almanac 1995 / TIME Almanac 1995.iso / time / 022690 / 0226007.000 < prev next >

Wrap

Text File | 1994-03-25 | 6KB | 125 lines

<text id=90TT0498> <title> Feb. 26, 1990: Nicaragua:The Odd Couple Plays Managua </title> <history> TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1990 Feb. 26, 1990 Predator's Fall </history> <article> <source>Time Magazine</source> <hdr> WORLD, Page 25 NICARAGUA The Odd Couple Plays Managua </hdr> <body> In the first free (more or less) elections in years, Ortega and Chamorro offer themselves to the people, but not much else By John Moody/Managua Daniel Ortega Saavedra hit the road at 5 a.m., bound for the northwestern city of Ocotal, where several thousand supporters awaited him. The same day, Violeta Barrios de Chamorro met in her airy Managua home with advisers of her National Opposition Union (U.N.O.), then received a courtesy call from Joao Baena Soares, secretary-general of the Organization of American States. Next door, Chamorro's aides frantically tried to add more appearances to her schedule, despite doctors' orders not to tax her limited stamina. With the election set for Sunday, the two candidates for the presidency of Nicaragua continue to campaign against type. Ortega, 44, the sometimes arrogant incumbent who has ruled since 1979, is hopscotching around the country with the fervor of a write-in contender. Gone are his military fatigues in favor of cowboy togs, complete with pointed boots. Chamorro, 60, a political neophyte who depicts herself as the best chance to save Nicaragua, placidly directs her campaign from her living room. Though Sandinista leaders exude confidence, opinion polls project wildly conflicting results. One survey puts Ortega 20 points ahead of Chamorro; another gives Chamorro almost exactly the same lead. The discrepancy confirms a suspicion that Nicaraguans, unused to honest elections and chary of speaking their minds to strangers, say whatever they think a pollster wants to hear. Gallup would go mad. Eager to win official recognition from the Bush Administration, the Sandinista National Liberation Front (F.S.L.N.) has turned up the propaganda noise and ladled out servings from a meager pork barrel. Billboards featuring Ortega nuzzling his daughter Camila, 2, dominate Managua, while the strains of the Sandinista campaign song (and old Beatles hit) All You Need Is Love blare from TVs and radios. The F.S.L.N. has distributed nearly a million toys in a country where playthings are a rarity, and has also handed out 1,000 parcels of land to farmers. Two weeks ago, Ortega pardoned the last of Nicaragua's political prisoners--more than 1,000 former contras--captured since the Sandinistas seized power in 1979; a week earlier he had promised to loosen exit-visa requirements. But the Sandinistas have not changed their Marxist ways altogether. U.N.O. poll watchers assigned to monitor the ballot counting have complained of harassment by members of the Interior Ministry urging them to quit the party. Those who comply are rewarded with perks like free coupons for gasoline. Diehards who refuse such blandishments are threatened with loss of jobs or property. After weeks of languishing in low gear, Chamorro's campaign revved up over the past fortnight. She is relying on voters' pent-up fury with ten years of Sandinista mismanagement. Inflation last year hovered around 1,700%, unemployment around 25%. Real wages have dropped more than 90% since 1981. "All she has to do is point to the Sandinista record," says Alfredo Cesar, Chamorro's chief adviser. "She doesn't have to convince anyone she's better than Daniel Ortega." That is just as well. Dona Violeta is a charming woman whose smile ignites crowds. But she owes her candidacy to the memory of her late husband Pedro Joaquin Chamorro Cardenal, the revered publisher of the Managua daily La Prensa who was assassinated in January 1978. Her casual pace suggests disorganization rather than confidence. Until last month, Chamorro restricted her forays outside Managua to weekends, supposedly for lack of funds. Her unfamiliarity with the details of issues, like Nicaragua's hyperinflation, has spawned unflattering comparisons with Ronald Reagan. Enthroned in a wheelchair because of knee surgery, Chamorro becomes testy when asked if she feels Ortega is outhustling her. Even if Chamorro wins, many Nicaraguans doubt that the Sandinistas would willingly relinquish power to her, especially control of the 70,000-member armed forces, which is called the Sandinista People's Army and is the main guarantor of the F.S.L.N.'s power. Chamorro favors drastically reducing the army's size. If Ortega should win in a fair election, the U.S. would be under pressure to normalize relations with Managua or at the very least to lift the economic boycott imposed in 1985. For now, the Bush Administration is taking a tough stance, promising to improve relations with the Sandinistas if they are victorious, but only if they stop aiding rebel groups in neighboring countries and maintain the democratic freedoms that have been expanded during the campaign. A Chamorro triumph would lead not only to the ending of the boycott but also, most likely, to an infusion of U.S. aid designed to help resuscitate the country's economy. But after spending more than $300 million in aid to the contras to dislodge the Sandinistas, Washington might find itself allocating large sums to a country run by a President who so far has demonstrated neither the vision nor the administrative skills to do her job well. Ortega's election, on the other hand, would signal that the nation's 1.75 million voters prefer the devil they know. In either case, Nicaraguans in search of a brighter future may find little reason to celebrate after the election. </body> </article> </text>