[The following is reproduced from a special edition of our Europe
Through the Back Door Newsletter from 1988.]

Banana-ology -- 12 Days in Central America

    I'm a travel writer.  For ten years I've written accounts of
beaches, great hikes, fondue and wine.  I've just experienced the
richest travel experience of my life in a very unlikely place --
chaotic Central America -- and I came home with one goal in mind: 
to share what Rousseau called "the privilege of firsthand
experience."
    I spent two intensive weeks in El Salvador and Nicaragua in
December of 1988 with 14 Americans (mostly from the Seattle-area)
on a tour organized by Augsburg College's Center for Global
Education in Minneapolis.  Ya sure, that's a Lutheran school and
our guides were pastors, priests and nuns. The tour was straight
"educational tourism", a non-stop schedule of meetings with
groups of all kinds designed to give us a balanced look at a very
complicated situation.
    The purpose of this special edition of my Europe Through the
Back Door Travel Newsletter is to give you the benefit of my
experience.  (Our normal European Budget travel focus will resume
with our next issue.)  This is my journal, condensed a bit, with
a few names changed or left out to protect people or groups we
talked with.  
    For $1700 and 15 days, my experience was a bargain.  If, by
reading this, others like you can enjoy some of what I learned,
it will become time and money even better invested.
    This journal is a chronology of our meetings.  I've relied
heavily on quotes from a land where middle ground is almost non-
existent and nearly everyone has clearly taken sides.  This
passion colors facts and figures.  As you read, pay attention to
who's saying what.  If I say something, the figures are
conservative.  I was keenly aware of the dangers of being "duped"
by propaganda.
     Being a student of history, I'm sorry I missed the French
Revolution -- or America's, for that matter. But there's a
feeling that, today in Central America, a kind of feudal age may
be coming to a fitful end. And I wasn't about to miss the
opportunity to drop in for a look.

DAY 1 - From Suburbs
        to San Salvador

     The San Salvador airport was hot, filled with wealthy locals
and plastered with government propaganda posters showing a little
girl with one leg blasted off -- "Victims  of the Leftist
Insurgency."  We were being detained by an immigration official
who couldn't believe that we eight gringos would visit his war-
clenched country simply as tourists.
     We were taken to a room to wait while bureaucrats drank
cokes, read the newspaper and wondered what to do with us.  We
all had a chance to think, there in that room surrounded by old
manual typewriters with weak ribbons, a map of San Salvador and
mugginess.
     "It's not a good time for you to visit," we were told. "The
guerrillas have moved into the city."
     I was inclined to believe him, and my worst fear played
itself out in my mind.  I would be killed by the right-wing
military, but the leftist guerrillas would be framed for the
murder. My death would create an American surge of support for
the government and a wave of disgust with the people's movement.
I could picture my maimed body on one of the government
propaganda posters here in the airport with the caption --
"Another Victim of the Leftist Insurgency!" 
     Back at home, it's Christmas time. It was tough to leave my
wife Anne and two year old Andy, but the chance to take this tour
and see history first-hand was too exciting to pass up.
     Our last breakfast together was with my Mom and Dad, who
looked at me a little like the professional couple who just can't
understand why their son gave up his credit cards and joined an
ashram in India.  Dad's attitude about the repression in Salvador
was predictable -- "communist lies".  Mom shows as much
intellectual independence as a banana republic. Their farewell to
me was, "Don't be duped!"

Welcome to El Salvador

     Our episode with El Salvador customs lasted about an hour.
The immigration man kept insisting that our lives would be in
danger from a guerrilla attack. Then Maria, our local organizer
and guide, joined us and, magically, we were released.  She gave
me a feeling of calm and security.  As we grabbed our bags a man
said, "There's a huge popular rally tomorrow.  Bound to be
trouble.  It's dangerous for you.  Don't go."  I'll let Maria
make those decisions.
     We piled into our 15-seat bus and drove 45 minutes into town
on El Salvador's only real freeway. We drove by a post-earthquake
suburb of tin shacks, towards the capital city whose population
has doubled to a million in the last few years -- for many rural
people, urban squalor is seen as preferable to life in the war-
torn countryside. Lots of military presence, road checks, rich
people in cars, poor people on the shoulder walking.
     At one check point, a girl in a blue dress lay dead in a
circle of blood on the road.  She'd been hit by a car, but my
brain still flashed "Death squad" -- a natural reaction in a war-
torn country.
     A crowd gathered to direct traffic and wait for her ten-
year-old body to be taken away. The sign under the bridge said:
"Welcome to the Democracy of El Salvador." 

EL SALVADOR 
     A civil war rages in El Salvador, pitting leftist guerrillas
(the FMLN) against a U.S.-backed government.  Despite $3 billion
in U.S. aid, the Salvadoran army has not been able to win the
war.
     A wealthy elite owns most of the country's agricultural
land.  The ruling military has a long history of violent
repression.  During the 1960s the army permitted some political
activity, but prevented the opposition from taking office in 1972
and 1977 when it won elections.  Since then a broad opposition
movement has developed, seeking a new society with fundamental
economic and political reforms, and a negotiated solution to the
civil war.
     Since 1979, right-wing "death squads" and the army's
operations in the countryside have killed more than 60,000
civilians.  Government violence and the war's devastation have
driven more than a million Salvadorans (20% of the country's
people) from their homes as refugees inside and outside the
country.  After a five-year lull in killings, in the last year
bloodshed has increased, with more right-wing death squad murders
and a new guerrilla offensive into the capital city, San
Salvador.
     The U.S. government says it has tried to foster a
democratic, centrist government around Napoleon Duarte, but his
failure to carry out serious reform and his party's reputation
for corruption have denied him popular support. As the economic
and military situation has deteriorated, the oligarchy has moved
toward the extreme-right ARENA party, led by Alfredo "Freddie"
Christiani, which is expected to win the upcoming elections. 
     Many Salvadorans are skeptical about the upcoming elections,
and many will refuse to participate. Regardless of who wins,
history has taught them that real power remains with the armed
forces and the U.S.-backed oligarchy.
     Major players on the political scene here are:

LEFT                                          RIGHT 

FMLN guerrillas                       Army and death squads
FDR political wing                    ARENA
leftist Christian Democrats           Christian Democrats       
Protestant churches
many Catholic priests and nuns        Catholic hierarchy
student and labor groups              business, oligarchy



Orientation: Don't Feed the Guerrillas

     At our hotel, we had our orientation meeting and met our
tour guide. Looking around the room I realized that this group
was one of hardened political thinkers -- lawyers, a legislator,
political organizers, business people and citizens who questioned
our government's actions way back when I was still voting for
Ronald Reagan.
     Margarita, an Hispanic Washington State Representative, and
Wendy, who works for Seattle's Central American Peace Campaign,
each speak Spanish and were returning to these countries for a
second look. David, a long-time political organizer, was our
group's shutter-bug. Rounding out the group were Art -- a dentist
and friend of mine from church -- a small-town plumber, a
homemaker, a university student and eight others. It was clear to
me that I would learn from my partners as well as from our travel
experience. 



[PHOTO: Leave 1-3/4"]


14 gringos on tour in Central America.


     In our orientation, we covered the basics first. We learned
to buy our water at "Happy's" across the street, to put TP in the
waste basket not the tender toilet and to recognize people with
diarrhea by the thin pink Pepto Bismol line around their lips.
     We learned to be careful when we speak in El Salvador.
Nicaragua, a touchy subject here, is to be referred to as
"Nebraska". We learned that "security" in a country at war means
security for us, for the locals and for our program.  Photos
could incriminate anyone we meet, including our guides. The last
thing El Salvador's government wants in these difficult times is
nosy tourists.
    International phone calls are monitored. We will be watched
and rooms very well may be bugged. For the safety of our program
and those we visit, we are to carry our notebooks and schedules
with us at all times. It's illegal for us to take part in any
rally or demonstration. Don't be out at night. The guerrillas
have moved the war to the city so the wealthy can experience some
of it. Fast food places, theatres and government police stations
are likely targets. Speed bumps -- built to slow down guerrilla
attack cars -- mean you're in a sensitive area.
     We also learned that it's not possible for people to live
here and avoid taking sides in this situation.  Objectivity is a
luxury this poor country cannot afford.
     Maria promised to introduce issues to us without bias, and
to give opinions only if asked.  Our coordinators shared their
fear that despair can outweigh and overwhelm hope. But they noted
how hope is continually inspired by the Salvadoran people's
wonderful ability to continue celebrating life -- even this life.

Teachers Under Siege

     Wendy, David and I hired a taxi and loaded the ten suitcases
full of donated children's clothes and first aid supplies we'd
brought from home. We dropped off half of them with a poor
Baptist church school and the rest with the teacher's labor
union.
     We happened to hit the teacher's union headquarters just as
teachers from around the world were converging on San Salvador
for a three-day convention to support El Salvador's National
Teacher's Union, which is independent of the government.
    The physical presence of foreigners in the building is
considered the only thing saving this opposition group from
destruction by the right wing. If international observers go, so
does the free voice of Salvadoran teachers. Talking with some
visiting Canadians and Danes, I realized for the first time how
dangerous it is to stand up for basic freedoms here.
    Our taxi driver, who had happily waited outside for us at our
previous stop, knew this was no place for him to loiter.  He
asked for his money and was gone.
  
A Walk Through San Salvador

     Now I was alone to wander. The people of San Salvador rushed
by me like a river.  
     The nearby outdoor market bustled, stoked by this war
economy. I stumbled into a dark and steamy banana warehouse. 
Imagine the world's biggest K-Mart filled with bananas -- many
different kinds, but only bananas.  No shopping carts, just
ladies artfully balancing giant woven baskets full of bananas on
their heads.
     On the sidewalks, babies suckled, men hunched over games of
bottle-cap checkers, and legions of laborers worked on the
National Palace building. An impromptu Christmas market was set
up in front of the cathedral with gaily painted ceramic models of
Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus... and soldiers killing peasants.  I
bought two soldiers standing over a slain peasant for 40 cents.
This gruesomeness is a routine part of the average peasant's
manger scene --  as casual as the Doublemint twins.
     Buses passed by -- some packed with people, but some almost
empty. I later learned that when the insurgency (FMLN) calls a
transportation strike, a few private buses continue to run. Their
licenses are noted and reprisals are made -- violently.  Guards
are posted on these marked buses.  Yesterday two were ambushed
and killed.  I saw several soldiers guarding marked buses today,
looking alert and frightened under their berets.

There's Blood on Your Banana 

     I sat in the square, wishing the bananas looked tastier,
feeling tired and somewhat overwhelmed. All the facts and figures
I'd read to prepare for this trip were now staring me in the
face....
     Central America's five countries offer a textbook look at
Developing World problems and American foreign policy. These former
Spanish colonies have become, in our century, something like
economic "colonies" of the U.S.A. and Europe -- exporting their
raw materials and importing our finished products. As a result,
though these are fertile agricultural countries and they supply
the "First World" with coffee, bananas and sugar... they still
must import U.S. goods to feed their own people.
     Politically, Central America is not far from its "banana
republic" roots. The wealth and power still belong to a few noble
families and industrialists who rule with military support, while
the vast majority of people are landless, uneducated and poor. 
     To put things very simplistically on the political spectrum,
the landowners, businessmen and the military are right-wing,
trying to keep their hold on power. On the left are those that
want change -- peasants, workers, students and the popular
church. There are few "moderates", since the middle class is very
small. The masses of poor peasants, with little education and no
political voice, have only recently begun to get politically
involved with leftist groups that want change. The U.S. has
traditionally supported the right. 
    America is very influential in the region. Large American
companies invest heavily, owning large tracts of land to grow
cheap crops for export. Historically, the U.S. has been able to
install governments friendly to American business interests,
through economic pressure or actual invasion. Even today, U.S.
support is almost essential for a government to survive.
     To give an idea of America's enormous impact in the region,
consider that U.S. aid to El Salvador exceeds that country's GNP. 
And in Nicaragua, over half the national budget is spent
defending itself against the U.S.-sponsored contras. The interest
alone on Latin American debts to U.S. banks exceeds many of these
countries' entire export earnings.
    In El Salvador and Nicaragua, there are two clearly opposite
cases of U.S. involvement.  In El Salvador, the U.S.-backed
government is in power, while the leftist insurgency is "in the
hills", fighting the government. In Nicaragua, on the other hand,
the leftists are in power and a U.S.-backed counter-insurgency is
"in the hills." 
    Stepping out of our simplistic left/right spectrum, we see
the reality that thousands of civilians are dying, the local debt
is growing, poverty spreads, and in many areas, half of all the
children die before the age of ten.  It's a very human story, and
you and I -- whether we like it or not -- are intimately
involved...
    After only 24 hours away from home, I've already lived a
week. I headed back to the group, and we enjoyed a quiet and
atmospheric restaurant meal -- sea bass with garlic, rice,
consomme and fresh-squeezed orange juice. Back at the hotel, I
eagerly began introducing the Canadian teachers I had met to our
group as delegates in an exciting convention. I'd forgotten the
warnings about security, and everyone shut me up.  We're not in
Kansas anymore, Rick.  And next week it's Nebraska.


               population     GNP per  literacy   people per
                              capita              doctor
El Salvador    4,860,000      $710       50%      5,330
Nicaragua      3,270,000      $880       88%      2,690
USA          226,000,000     $8,612      96%        590


DAY 2 -- Ballots or Bullets? 

     Today, our first full day in El Salvador, was spent hearing
about the difficult political situation. As the elections
approach, things are heating up.
     The Salvadorans have two choices in the election. The ruling
Christian Democratic Party under Napoleon Duarte is closer to the
center but is viewed as corrupt, ineffectual and a U.S. puppet.
As a result, the far-right ARENA party will probably win with
their new "moderate" image and likeable candidate, Alfredo
"Freddie" Christiani -- American-educated, fluent in English and
good on American TV.
     On the left is the FMLN. They have significant political
support and exercise control in some areas of the country, but
hold no political power. They have refused to participate in the
elections, not wanting to legitimize a process they consider a
sham. They prefer a negotiated compromise, instead. Recently,
however, they've offered to participate if the elections are
postponed, and if candidates' security can be guaranteed.
     The FMLN proper consists of a small band of dedicated
guerrillas (about 6,000) hiding from government troops in the
countryside, occasionally attacking government installations.
Their political arm is known as the FDR.
     The Democratic Convergence is a new coalition of groups on
the left that will enter candidates in the election. In an
atmosphere marred by physical and psychological terror, it
doesn't hope or expect to win. It doesn't believe elections are a
solution.  Many on the left want no one to run.  They see the
military only allowing the election as a bonsai tree -- "it
adorns your house with political respectability, and when it
grows you trim it."  
     Regardless of who wins the election, the real power in the
country lies with the Army. In both 1972 and 1977, the Army
stepped in and negated the democratic elections, putting their
own people in power.
     El Salvador's recent history is one of civil war between the
right wing military and the left wing FMLN guerrillas.  The FMLN
grew into a mass movement in the 1970s. Fearing a repeat of the
Sandinista revolution in Nicaragua in 1979, the Salvadoran Army
staged a pre-emptive coup and took over the government.
     The FMLN responded by mounting a general insurrection in
1981. But Alexander Haig called Salvador a textbook example of
communist expansion, and U.S. aid poured in.  Airpower financed
by U.S. aid ($1.5 million a day) enabled the Salvadoran
government to survive. As the FMLN's "Final Offensive" petered
out, the Army and right-wing death squads went on a rampage,
killing thousands, mostly civilians. Many activists were exposed
and killed. The remainder fled to the hills and formed the
present guerrilla army, learning to adapt to survive air raids.
     By 1984, the Army was clearly winning. Many popular
organizations had been decimated, and the FMLN had to shift
tactics and operate in smaller units. Death-squad activity became
more selective. Having reached a military stalemate, the Army
effectively used elections to legitimize the right and
delegitimize the left.
     But the war is far from over. As the '89 elections draw
nearer, the popular organizations have regained strength, and
violence from both sides is increasing. The FMLN guerrillas are
currently waging their biggest offensive since '83  -- several
mayors have been assassinated, and Salvadoran Army bases are
being attacked, even in the capital.



[PHOTO: Leave 1-3/4"]


An anti-government poster showing the bloody consequences of U.S.
military aid to El Salvador.
 
     For their part, the Army is carrying out more countryside
massacres, security is tightening, travel in the  countryside is
restricted and there have been very strong responses to
demonstrations. The Army has grown from 10,000 troops in 1980 to
well over 50,000 today.  Death squads are active again.  There
are currently 30-40 assassinations weekly. And U.S. aid -- most
of it military -- continues to pour in to the tune of ten million
dollars a week.

The Press in an Oppressed Land

     An American journalist who writes for several mainstream
U.S. publications met with us for 90 minutes, giving us a
fascinating glimpse of a journalist's life here.  He explained: 
     "Traditionally, Latin American journalists are like waiters
-- lousy pay but good tips from city hall, coffee growers or
whoever you cover "properly".
     "When you read the U.S. press, remember, the higher up
people get in the media world the more conservative they tend to
be.  Editors are way up there. Writers whose work is not chosen
can starve.
     "There's no official censorship in El Salvador -- they just
kill those who write critically. ARENA does a cost-benefit
analysis of how much bloody repression can work without risking a
cutoff of US aid. They make sure not to target any famous victims
-- just middle managers of unions, universities, and so on."

Murder in the Cathedral

     Our journalist ran off for a dental appointment and we rode
our mini-buses downtown for a quick look at the tomb of Oscar
Romero, the charismatic archbishop who was gunned down in his
church by a right wing death squad in 1980. Romero had been
active in organizing and inspiring groups to help the poor. The
right wing saw this as a threat, and shot him as he was leading a
mass.  
     The cathedral where he used to preach is huge but very
plain, made of concrete and rebar (the steel bars inside
reinforced-concrete structures). They were selling Romero posters
in the sacristy and we bought the man out. Romero has become
something of a modern saint among poor Salvadorans, who put up
posters of him as a symbol of hope.
     For centuries in Latin America, life has meant suffering. 
(Good Friday -- the day when Jesus was executed -- is the big
holy day, not Easter Sunday). But with a more hope-filled
attitude among Christians known as "liberation theology", the
resurrection is the optimistic new focus.  Romero taught that the
local life and community which has been "killed" can also be
resurrected.
     On a restaurant wall in San Salvador, we saw a quote from
the Bible, Isaiah 43: "Others died that you might live. I traded
their lives for yours because you are precious to me and honored,
and I love you. Don't be afraid, for I am with you."  
     Archbishop Romero had said he would be resurrected in the
people of El Salvador.

Poor Shacks and Pizza Huts

     We rode up into the fortified neighborhood where the wealthy
live -- coffee growers, landowners and military leaders.  Hitting
speed bumps, I remembered to look for something important --
there behind high walls and guards lived the new American
ambassador, William Walker. (Ironically, he has the same name as
the American soldier of fortune who virtually owned Nicaragua in
the 1800s.)
     The mansions are huge, very fortified and fully equipped
with nearby Pizza Huts, Mister Donuts and all the necessary First
World boutiques. We couldn't photograph any rich houses because
someone might note our license plate number and report the bus.
    Rashes of poor huts were breaking out all over these rich
neighborhoods.  Poverty -- what an eyesore.  The poor -- they
follow you everywhere.
    This poverty is structural, not brought on by simple
laziness. El Salvador has always been a land of grossly uneven
distribution of wealth. Some two hundred families own the vast
majority of land and industry, with foreign corporations owning
much of what's left over. Currently, El Salvador has a booming
war economy subsidized by U.S. aid. The rich are getting richer,
while health and education are ignored. 
     Minimum wage is supposed to be 15 colones ($3) a day. But 5
colones ($1) is the average coffee worker's wage. Over half the
population is illiterate. And the civil war hurts the poor the
hardest --  20% of the population has been displaced, 60,000
death-squad murders this decade with no prosecution, and things
are getting worse. 
     Thoughts have been pinpricking me all day.  They'd prick you
too in a land of poverty where a jolly Santa Claus arrives at a
Salvadoran shopping mall in a U.S. helicopter.
     What about U.S. aid? Why isn't it reaching the poor? The
U.S. spends $1.5 million every day on aid to El Salvador. Two-
thirds of that is spent on weapons, and much of what's left over
is spent to build the infrastructure of war -- roads, bridges,
and so on. When aid money does reach the people, it's for the
video-taping of a publicity film to influence U.S. public
opinion. 
     Consequently, our aid is really subsidizing huge capital
flight.  Many claim that, as U.S. aid increases, so does the flow
of local capital to Swiss banks. The Salvadoran rich have planted
nest eggs in Florida or Switzerland, and are ready to flee when
necessary.
     If a group is considered a "Marxist" front, then U.S. aid
goes elsewhere. In Salvador, anyone that seriously challenges the
wealthy status quo is said to be either a front for the communist
guerrillas or "duped" by propaganda.
     As one observer put it: "If you give food to the poor,
you're called a saint. If you ask why they're poor, you're called
a communist."   

Organized Labor
Organized Murder
         
     UNTS is the umbrella organization of Salvadoran unions. 
Very large and vocal, it's not at all appreciated by the
government. We met with three members of its executive committee.
     "78% of Salvadoran workers are unemployed or underemployed.
Wages are frozen. Since 1983, the average worker's real income
has dropped by a third. The people starve while millions in aid
is taken by the elite. The vast majority of the people are worse
off now than ever before in this century.
     "We workers must constantly battle against the label of
"communist".  The government runs ads in papers weekly tying
union groups to the FMLN. And before every UNTS activity, there
is a government campaign of psychological terror and publicity.
     In 1980-82, when times got very dangerous for all groups,
the unions went underground.  Then the U.S. embassy led a
disinformation campaign that we were subversives. So the U.S.
created a parallel union organization, one that is supposedly
more "democratic", using U.S. funds. All the money is going to
this U.S. group... but all the workers are coming to us.
     "Organizing labor is dangerous here. 6,000 labor organizers
and political prisoners are held secretly in local jails. And
Duarte says there's no repression in Salvador...."
     On the upcoming elections: "Elections in the 1970s had broad
participation.  Not these of the '80s.  The USA says vote.  Why
should the people give this system their approval by voting?
     "The voters are given a "choice" between two parties that
both want a military solution to El Salvador's problems: ARENA
wants to destroy all opposition, massacring 100,000 top
dissidents in an all-out war. On the other hand, the Christian
Democrats (and the U.S. embassy) figure that eight more years of
the current policy -- civil war and repression -- will exhaust
the opposition. What kind of choice is that?
    "Even so, it can be very dangerous to NOT vote here, so
nearly half the ballots dropped in voting boxes are unmarked or
scrawled with obscenities."
     The union man explained that Salvadoran activists will never
die of hunger.  "If we're going to die, we'll die fighting.  And
we won't bow to the USA."

Fighting WW III Today:
Low Intensity Conflict

     We met at our hotel with Jack Nelson-Pallmeyer. Jack has
lived and worked in Central America and has written several books
on the subject (including "War Against the Poor", 1989, Orbis).
He gave us a powerful talk on his area of specialty -- low
intensity conflict. 
     "In order to protect its worldwide economic interests, the
U.S. is engaging in a new kind of warfare throughout the Third
World. Since World War II we've built a far-flung economic
empire. Countries around the world have natural resources, a
ready market for U.S. goods or foreign debts that make them vital
to our economy. Any threat to U.S. business interests in these
countries is seen as a threat to the U.S. itself. We defend our
interests by supporting, defending or installing governments with
economic policies we favor. Traditionally, the U.S. has been less
interested in promoting democracy than in promoting U.S.
business.
      "In Vietnam, we learned that sending our own soldiers to
fight local insurgencies in faraway civil wars is very costly,
hard to win and unpopular at home. Now the USA has turned to a
new kind of war. Pentagon planners call it "Low Intensity
Conflict." 
     "Low Intensity Conflict (LIC) is total war -- weaving
psychological, economic, diplomatic and military together into a
comprehensive package. "LIC" is many different branches of the
U.S. government fighting in concert. Pentagon planners see us
fighting World War III right now.
     "The wars in El Salvador and Nicaragua are textbook examples
of LIC. The U.S. puts psychological pressure on its enemies (El
Salvador's FMLN and the Sandinistas in Nicaragua) with a constant
threat of invasion -- war games in nearby countries, sonic booms
from U.S. aircraft, and so on.
     "Economically, the U.S. supports its friends with millions
in foreign aid and punishes its enemies with embargos, boycotts
and leverage from these countries' huge debts to U.S. banks.
Diplomatic weapons include pressuring allies, withdrawing
ambassadors, paying defectors and supporting sham elections. By
forcing fledgling governments to turn to Cuba or the Soviet Union
for support, the U.S. can easily get popular backing at home to
fight the so-called "Marxists". 
    "And, of course, there's the crucial military side to Low
Intensity Conflict, better described as "low visibility warfare".
Instead of sending our own boys, we pay mercenaries (the
Salvadoran Army or the contras) to do the dirty work. We send
teams of military advisers and covert teams -- the CIA and the
"second CIA" of Oliver North fame -- to sabotage elections,
spread disinformation, influence public opinion by ghost-writing
for opposition newspapers, manage terror, ruin peace initiatives,
support fundamentalist Christian sects that support the status
quo and instigate a host of other political dirty tricks.
    "This is the way a superpower fights a guerrilla war. In the
final analysis, there's little difference between economic and
military aid -- the results are the same.
     "You don't have to actually win this kind of war. Sure, a
victory is best. But when a military victory is impossible (like
Vietnam), just stalemating the opposition can be enough. In El
Salvador, there's no need to wipe the FMLN off the face of the
isthmus. The death squads have sown so much fear already, that
now the repression can be "managed", and just a few
assassinations a year are enough to keep the enemy down -- or so
it is hoped.
     "LIC is based on an inaccurate view of Latin America. It
insists on an East-West analysis of foreign affairs which are
fundamentally North-South problems. The U.S. government can't
believe that an insurgency group might be purely homegrown -- it
figures there must be Soviets or Cubans behind every revolution. 
The fact is, though, that these are usually nationalist groups
who are legitimately questioning the system that oppresses them -
- much like Americans in the 1700s. "Ultra-nationalism", the term
the U.S. uses for when a nation is overly concerned about its own
people, is something America's resources must be protected
against.
     "Consider this. 40 million people in the Developing World die
hunger-related deaths every year. That's the equivalent of 300
fully loaded 747s crashing every day with no survivors. When
planes crash, we question the system. Yet when someone questions
a political system that allows this much death, they're labeled
"Marxists" and become the victims of a Low Intensity Conflict
with the United States."
                           ***

     After a local style outdoor dinner of beans and tortillas,
we met at the hotel to plan our meeting at the U.S. embassy
tomorrow morning. (The embassy almost insists that delegations
meet with them at the start of their visit... before they've seen
too much?)
     After today, it all seemed fairly clear -- there's good guys
and there's bad guys. But so far we've only heard from one side. 
Tomorrow the puddle is stirred.
     Art, Chris, Wendy and I discussed marriage, mid-life crises
and communicating -- a refreshing break from war and politics.
Later, as I wrote in my journal at poolside, I heard a loud
crash. I thought it was a bomb and started to duck. The waiter
laughed... and picked up his tray.

DAY 3 -- Lean to the Left
         Lean to the Right
         There's No Middle
         Fight Fight Fight

     We had a tasty breakfast of scrambled eggs, refries, goat
cheese, toast, fried banana, o.j. and coffee -- the menu called
it "Traditional", though I wondered where the campesinos plugged
their toasters in. Then we left for the American Embassy.  No
photos, no tape recorders.

The U.S. Embassy

     We passed a swamp of Salvadoran people waiting patiently to
be denied visas and arrived at the elaborately guarded and
fortified gate.  This is famous around here as the "Million
Dollar Wall".  A low estimate.
     At precisely 8:30, we passed security and got in.  We paused
at a memorial to the 14 Americans who've been killed in El
Salvador -- 12 servicemen, 2 agricultural workers... and zero
nuns.  Today is the anniversary of the murder of four American
church workers by right wing elements, so the absence of their
names was conspicuous.
     We were taken to a briefing room.  A man sat quietly in back
who is always present to take notes on what is said and to assure
that the "party line" is adhered to. Then an official from the
political section came in.  He apologized for being late, but
explained he didn't work well in the morning.  He was chummy and
self-deprecating, and talked to us like we were all in on an
inside joke here about the inept local people.  He was a likeable
guy -- like a traffic cop, full of jokes and small talk. He
answered our questions well for our government: 
     "El Salvador has traditionally had a basically feudal
economic system -- your typical "banana republic".  But with the
large shift of people from the countryside to the cities in the
1960s and '70s, the system that had worked so well began to
deteriorate.  The resulting civil war was inspired by the FMLN.
     "Thanks to U.S. money, the situation today is much improved. 
The guerrilla army of 12,000 is now only 6,000, there's been a
significant readjustment of power with new key players in the
economy and much broader access to bank loans and education. 
Most U.S. officials figure the democratic process here merits
continued support."
     We asked: Will the U.S. support an ARENA victory?
     "In l984, the U.S. supported Duarte in every way it could. 
Back then, ARENA's right-wing extremism would have meant the end
of U.S. involvement. But things change, and ARENA is now more
moderate.  The U.S. embassy will live with an ARENA victory if
they win -- as long as they behave."  
     How about charges that ARENA is linked to political
violence?
     "Violent repression has increased, but we see no political
link. Most killings aren't political, just private feuds,
settling of scores, and so on." 
     The embassy's primary source of human rights violations
reports are the local newspaper and the military, which are,
admittedly, right wing. But, he explained, "the numbers are the
numbers."
     As we were leaving, we asked if we could take a photo of the
outside of the embassy from a distance down the road and were
told no.

Human Rights --
Keeping Tally 

     Our next stop was Tutela Legal, the human rights office of
the archdiocese and a very powerful independent voice locally. 
In sharp contrast to the embassy, their office was like a grade
school building -- low tech, plain and filled with down-to-earth
people.
     This is the organization that all major embassies here --
except the U.S. -- rely on for information on human rights
violations.  The U.S. calls Tutela Legal a guerrilla front.
     Tutela Legal's report:  "There is no democracy in Salvador.
Recent history on human rights can be divided into three stages:
1) From 1980-82, hellish. 2) 1983-87, far fewer assassinations.
3) October 1987 to the present, getting worse. The roots of the
problem -- a weak government and an untouchable military --
remain unchanged."
     We asked: Who is responsible for the most violations? The
government or the guerrillas?
     "There are undoubtedly more government violations than FMLN
ones.  68% of human rights violations are from the government and
Army while 32% are from the left.  The government propaganda 
routinely tries to blame the FMLN for its own terrorist activity,
concocting a false history around important murders with
elaborate TV coverage and the works to frame the FMLN." (I
flashed back to the "Victims of the Leftist Insurgency" posters
we saw at the airport.)
     We had to cut our conversation short in order to make the
special anniversary mass. From photo albums of corpses to
"passing the peace" with blue and white clad nuns.


Mass for Martyrs

     In a poor but lovingly decorated church, some 300 locals and
50 internationals gathered to worship.  The service was a typical
Latin American "liberation theology" service. A Mariachi-type
band played a Latin cliche of happiness.  People clapped and
there was a very strong feeling of unity. The priest was a
prominent voice of the popular church rare in the post-Romero
church hierarchy.
     The mass was in honor of the four American church women who
were murdered in 1980 -- presumably by a right-wing death squad -
- while working for the Salvadoran poor. The message of the
service was one of hope, applying the word of God directly to
these people's struggle.
     While we Americans pray that the judge will let our traffic
ticket be just a warning this time, they pray that their blood
waters the seeds of their hope and continued struggle; that those
who've made the ultimate sacrifice might still live on with them;
that the Latin American church might continue to work for the
needs of the people.
     "Passing the peace of Christ", when everyone greets their
fellow worshippers, was a wonderful experience. (The practice,
stilted in uptight U.S. churches, is party time here. "May the
peace of Christ be with you!") I was very moved -- almost
tearful. These young nuns were the soldiers of peace. 

The Hopes of the Right Wing

     We ate bananas on the bus, racing to the National Assembly
House. We were met with smiles and kisses on cheeks by Horacio
Rios, the ARENA deputy representing the district of Santa Ana.  A
very gracious man, he ordered us all cokes, invited us to take
photos of anything, assured us with a laugh that the National
Assembly was not really the infamous arsenal of the death squads
("We can look around for guns if you'd like"), joked that in
spite of his slight paunch he too had struggled, reminded us
several times that he'd nearly been killed three times, mentioned
that he gives clothing to Nicaragua's poor Miskito Indians, and
that his mother has just passed away. He pulled a chain out of
his shirt and showed us his crucifix.
     Though ARENA, the political party with a majority in the
National Assembly, is too far to the right for even our U.S.
embassy to easily embrace, most people assume ARENA will soon
rule El Salvador. The U.S. government realizes that they'll most
likely be dealing with these people, so many ARENA leaders are
spending time in the USA cleaning up their act and getting to
know the power that fuels their political oxygen tent.
     ARENA is trying to build a new image.  They have been
thought of as the party of the death squads (60,000 murders this
decade).  Now they're "working very hard for the poor and their
children."  They hope to "teach them the American lifestyle."
     Rios explained: "We are finding our way to democracy. It's
difficult.  We have 77% un- or under-employment.  We need your
help and aid.  We want no Nicaragua.  We need land reform but
first we need better education.  The campesinos (farm people)
can't even handle their money at this point. 80% of the
campesinos support ARENA. The rich don't really like our
policies."
     Then he closed with a passionate and eloquent explanation of
how this is our (America's) war.  "You live in paradise and have
much to lose.  The struggle is simply USA vs. USSR. People,
economy, social problems, and so on, are secondary. Nicaragua
fell.  Without your $3 billion in aid, Salvador would also have
fallen.  Your last buffer, Mexico, is in worse shape than you
think.  The USA itself is threatened.  Please, help us win this
war for you."
     It's strange. I wanted to believe that the ARENA man was a
well-meaning, hard-working good guy.  But does he really believe
the things he says? Is he duped by right-wing propaganda? Am I
duped by left-wing propaganda? Is it possible to be objective in
this country? This is a struggle.  I see only difficulties for El
Salvador.

Reflections

     Exhausted and hungry, we went to the hotel for a time of
reflection before dinner.  I feel like we've listened to The Big
Lie all day.  I want to believe it.  But the world is more than
red and white.  Today we saw how democracy is "elections".  And
the people on the right will ride on that symbol. But graffiti
all over town reads: "Elections with repression are no solution
at all."
     A subtle new angle showed up in the use of the concept of
terrorism.  The ARENA man had justified violent repression as an
antidote to "terrorism". Could this apply to the U.S. as well?
How far would our leaders go in order to "protect us from
terrorism"? Even if the fear of communism fades, "terrorism" will
be the excuse for denial of civil liberties, social tension and
gross defense spending.  An SS force needs legal permission.
     Earlier in the day, I'd wondered if I was duped by left-wing
propaganda. Now, after hearing from the right wing, I've decided
-- if siding with the people is being "duped", then I'm duped. I
don't know about you, but I'm duped.





[PHOTO: Leave 1-3/4"]

On Day 4, we hiked into a remote village of 350 campesinos who
are settled here temporarily until they can return to their rural
farms. It was a fascinating day which rounded our Salvadoran
experience out nicely. If this was a 36-page newsletter, I'd tell
you all about it.

     I see two needs for these people, needs that often conflict: 
the socialist material need for basic human dignity -- peace,
food, clothing, education, health and land to work.  And the free
enterprise need to have the opportunity to get so rich you don't
know what to do with all your snowmobiles.  Not everybody has or
needs the American dream.  By pushing this dream on others, we
Americans are more likely to get more of this dream cake
ourselves, but leaving the Developing World with raped land, civil
wars, urban elites and enhanced appetites.
     Writing in my journal at very quiet pool side, the late
night waitress brought me my agua mineral with lemon. We enjoyed
our flirty, nightly ritual as she shoved my straw that floats too
well back into my drink.  The Salvadoran people make me hate war
more than ever.

DAY 5 -- Young Christian Soldiers

     The last thing my dad had told me before I left home was "Be
sure you talk to the real people."  Like most Americans, he was
concerned I'd be duped by a series of smooth talking leftists. In
our quest for objectivity, it was another long intense day of
learning.
     We drove to a large unfinished church I'd describe as "rebar
gothic".  The arches of the ceiling ended with rusty concrete
reinforcement bars.  The nave was walled off, and the rest of the
church was a dentist office, daycare, home to an American church
worker and a honeycomb of other social services.  The basement
was once a hidden refugee center where scores of displaced people
lived like moles, never coming out for years at a time.
     It was a warm and uplifting mass. The songs made you feel
good and strong even if you didn't understand Spanish.  Several
were Nicaraguan folk hymns -- a strong statement in this land
where our tour has to say "Nebraska" for the N word.
     After church, we went downstairs, made a large circle of
chairs and met with fifteen teenagers from the church's youth
group. In our introduction, when one of our group mentioned that
she was trying to change U.S. foreign policy in the region, the
kids clapped.
     I was immediately impressed by the maturity, commitment and
faith of these 14-to-19 year olds. Surrounded by rough concrete,
a few bare fluorescent bulbs and piles of musty old mattresses, I
took notes feverishly, trying to imagine the youth of my church
so committed. I'd like to think that in a similar situation the
youth of my country would leave their safe world and take the
reigns of their lives too.  The answers the youth group gave were
short, direct and without all the rhetoric we've heard from
politicians. We covered a lot of ground.
     They told us about their school environment. "The government
bombards our youth with messages to ignore poverty.  Most become
apathetic, but many are active.  Government education is at an
all-time low. There is absolutely no encouragement to think
critically about reality.  The focus is on materialism,
cosmetics, fashion, parties and how to look good for our
boyfriends. We are taught to respect superiors and the hierarchy.
Our student councils are fronts for the school administration.
They think that all the students are stupid!"
     "Only the poor boys are recruited -- by force -- for the
Army, yet the Army fights for the rich."
     "Change requires a struggle on all possible fronts -- in the
mountains and in the cities.  For this reason, I don't join the
FMLN, which hides in the countryside.  We cannot abandon the
city."
     "Christians can turn to violence. For ten years our popular
movement was a peace movement.  Only after the murder of our
priest leadership and all the death squads have we turned to
violence.  The Army bombed our churches, soldiers defecated on
the holy host. It's a struggle of life or death.  We want a
negotiated settlement, giving us peace with dignity and social
justice."
     "Please help stop the flow of U.S. money.  Don't just feel
sorry for us -- join in our political struggle.  Your work is not
in vain.  Christ is being crucified again here in El Salvador. 
But we have faith and hope -- and He will be resurrected."
     It was a powerful experience, to hear teenagers tell us
their struggle in the crude basement of a half-finished church,
hardly noticing the soft thud of bombs falling on ramshackle
villages just outside the capital city.
     These youth organizations train a broad base of leadership
so they won't be shaken by the death or disappearance of a
charismatic leader.  They train each other.  Some are to take the
spotlight so that others are able to keep a low profile, ready to
take over if necessary.
     After the ritual shaking of the hand of every person in the
room, we drove to the appropriately named Puerta del Diablo
(Devil's Gate) on a lush windy promontory overlooking the city. 
This is a romantic viewpoint... but notorious as a body dump for
the death squads.
     I greeted a jovial man with a wife and baby in a car with
black tinted (polarized) windows.  We chatted, I admired his baby
and he started asking questions.  Way too many questions.  The
conversation turned cold, and I conveniently lost what meager
ability I had to speak Spanish.  Those cars with polarized
windows are the typical death squad cars.

Don't Worry, Be Happy.

     Next we visited a priest in a tin church whose parish
consists of 50,000 people who have settled literally on the
garbage dump. Before touring the "parish", we sat down for a most
enlightening conversation.
     "The Salvadorans are soft people.  After 500 years of
repression, they are good at being on the bottom.  They're timid
and have a tough time saying no.  When they play checkers they
just don't like to jump you.  When they attend a rally, they are
going against their nature.  Unfortunately, their non-violence is
answered by violence.
     "They are terrorized into silence and saturated with
propaganda from the right.  They all have the same needs and
concerns but they can't speak out. First off, there's no mass
media voice of the left (radio, newspaper or TV). And second, the
periodic disappearances and murders remind them where the power
is, so they'd better keep quiet.
     "One disappearance every six months is enough to keep the
fear so high that even good friends and close neighbors don't
really know each other's politics.  They discuss other
controversial things with gusto (like religion) but politics is
not to be dealt with.  Many former refugees don't even say where
they're from since certain areas and towns are black-listed as
communities that "organized" politically against the government."
     (At one point today, when asked a particularly sensitive
question, one of our contacts had to say: "I can't talk about
this.  I don't know who you are."  We found out several weeks
later that his suspicions were justified -- he was arrested.)
     "The government neglects social services. Though there are
government schools, the students must wear uniforms. The very
poor can't afford these uniforms, so they'd get no education
without the help of a church school. The state provides one
clinic with one doctor and almost no medicine for this area of
50,000.  People prefer the church clinics.




[PHOTO: Leave 1-3/4"]

Barrio kids that live on a San Salvador garbage dump.
 
     "Organized religion offers the people of El Salvador two
outlooks on life, "colonial theology" and "liberation
theolology". Colonial or conformist theology, taught by the
fundamentalist and evangelical sects in poor communities, says
that the Kingdom of God is not of this world, that things cannot
be changed, so just suffer quietly and await your reward in
heaven. Like the medieval church, their main attraction is
escapism. Reality is ignored.  They tell people, "Christ is
coming soon. Don't worry, be happy."  Assembly of God (Jimmy
Swaggart) is the biggest, but there are many others.  These
churches are sent to Salvador by the same country that finances
its war -- the U.S. -- and enjoy government support while other
churches are harassed.
     "Liberation theology, taught in many Protestant and Catholic
churches, says that God loves the poor and encourages them to
carve out some dignity in their mortal lives.
     "They fight for the people's loyalty by offering day care,
schools, clinics, and things like love, respect, and truth. This
is seen as a threat to the status quo. Only the evangelicals are
unharassed by the government. 
     "The Lutheran and Baptist churches are making the strongest
political statements these days. The Lutheran headquarters was
bombed twice in early 1989. The Catholic hierarchy is doing
little now, but the people seem to be propelling the church on
their own and with their liberation theology." 
     The priest explained that the people are incredibly
religious here.  "The least religious Salvadoran is more
religious than the average European priest."
      He finished by noting that, "Salvadorans, like campesinos
throughout Latin America, are beginning to speak out loud.  This
is a big step.  When you speak your mind, even if it's only to a
group of five or six people, you feel your dignity as a human
being."

The City Built Upon a Garbage Dump

     We wandered for half an hour around this "city" of 50,000,
dusty frills of garbage blowing like old dandelion spores in the
wind. It was a ramshackle world of corrugated tin, rocks and
laundry. I'll not forget the piles of tin, the ripped and
shredded sofas, tire parts and filthy plastic bowls I saw at one
point. This was a store whose major supplier was the city dump. 
Corrugated tin was used for chairs, tables, walls and roofs.
     Overlooking the tin shacks was a billboard from a local
bank, advertising home loans for the wealthy. It read: "With
every day that passes, your house is closer to being yours."
     We passed through a "suburb" of tin shacks which lived off
the dump, walking past houses where they sorted out saleable
garbage, stacked broken glass and pounded rusty metal barrels
into cooking pots and pans. In a church there was a sandbox
manger scene with two soldiers standing over a slashed and bloody
campesino positioned next to the Wise Men and cows -- the new
centurions are the government, while the poor people see
themselves as Christ figures, crucified for the truth.
     The people had done what they could to make their slum
liveable. There was greenery, cute children bringing home huge
jugs of water (2 cents each) and lots of mud, bamboo and
corrugated tin buildings. As we approached the ridge overlooking
the main dump, I thought to myself this really wasn't all that
awful. 
     Then we went to hell.  We'd heard of the people living off
garbage dumps, and now we were in for a firsthand look. Huge
bulldozers, circling black birds, and a literal mountain of
garbage ten stories high with people picking through it.  It was
an urban fruit rind covered with human flies.
     A policeman with a machine gun kept the people away from one
half of the mound. That was where aid items which the government
figured would cost them too much to disperse were being buried
under the garbage. About thirty people gathered, waiting for the
guard to leave. Our escort told us this, but I couldn't believe
him.  But then the guard left and all thirty scavengers broke
into a run and dashed into the best part of the dump.  The smell
was sweet and sickening.
                             ***

     Back at the hotel, Art and I laid down, heads spinning, and
ordered orange juice. We figured that a good garbage picker earns
in a day what we'd just spent on that juice.  Or, another way to
put it, he earns in a day about what the two photos I clicked of
him will cost me to develop.
     What can be done about these people? Will they one day just
grab guns to meet their basic needs any way they can? It occurred
to me that an interest in the hunger problem, nourished by the
right books, could slide the unsuspecting "First World" observer
right into progressive politics.
     Earlier, as we'd walked through the worst part of the
garbage dump slum, I told the person behind me that Jesus was a
liberal. My friend corrected me -- "Jesus was a radical."


DAY 6 -- Mothers of
         the Disappeared

     There have been 60,000 assassinations by the right-wing
death squads in this civil war, not to mention the actual war
casualties.  For each of those there is a family ripped apart.
     Death squads are secret para-military bands financed by the
right wing to terrorize their enemies. They raid a home or
village at night, kidnapping suspects, who are then imprisoned,
tortured or killed, their bodies dumped on the roadside. Or --
worst of all for their families -- many of them simply
"disappear" forever, with no explanation.
     All over Latin America, mothers of the murdered, imprisoned
or disappeared victims of American-supported, CIA-coached
governments are uniting and speaking with a strong voice. When
they take your sons and daughters, you tend to act bold.
     In l984 they were given the Robert F. Kennedy award for
battling for human rights. The U.S. government would not grant
visas to these widows and grieving mothers to accept the award
because they were... "terrorists". 
     We sat with eight mothers, wives and sisters of the
disappeared and, surrounded by posters, photos of gruesome
corpses and a chart of all the physical ways the government
tortures its prisoners, we heard their testimony.
     We heard horrifying accounts of husbands decapitated, their
corpses left with their voter-identity cards stuck in their
mouths, showing they'd refused to participate in the last
election. We heard of sons and daughters tortured, killed or
disfigured with acid; of political slogans cut into victims'
chests; of brothers held in prisons indefinitely with no charges
filed against them; loved ones missing for years with no word as
to their fate; and on and on, each story documented with a
scrapbook of black and white photos.
     These women have very strong convictions.  We were told:
"The government and the military say they can win the war  --
assuming continued U.S. aid -- just by killing the top 100,000
activists.  There are lists already on U.S. computers of all the
people with a free spirit. Rallies have been videotaped, teachers
and priests red-listed.  It's a straightforward job and victory
is the oligarchy's.
     "The U.S. government is the principle protagonist, the most
responsible for the situation we're living in.  Disappearances
are part of a total policy of the U.S. and Salvadoran
governments.  If it weren't for the U.S. aid, we'd have  no
torture, no suffering.  Please, leave the Salvadorans to solve
their own problems."
     Robert Kennedy looked down on us from the bookshelf as these
women brought us to tears with their strength, faith, hope and
stories of their fight against this amazing repression.  Two of
us had to leave, it was so intense, and I was emotionally
exhausted by it all.  I kept wondering how I'd ever explain these
powerful experiences to my wife, Anne, back in Seattle.
     The mothers finished by saying, "Thank you for coming.  Your
visit gives us strength and hope to continue.  We hope for your
prayers."

Liberation Theology -- 
The God of the Poor

     After a too-short rest in the hotel and feeling mentally
very rummy, we bused to the impressive University of Central
America campus and met with a priest who is one of the world's
leading liberation theologians. We sat at a large table, he laid
out his cigarettes and started our meeting, explaining things as
easily as breathing.
     Liberation theology looks at Developing World politics from a
Christian perspective. God's message is meant to free people from
oppression. In Latin America, oppression takes the form of
poverty and political violence. By liberating people from these
evils, you are following God's word.  
     The priest explained, "Liberation means nothing without
oppression.  Those who deny the need for liberation deny the
existence of oppression. You must have experienced this
oppression to truly understand liberation theology.
     "The most fundamental oppression in El Salvador is not war
but poverty. Remember, El Salvador's standard of living -- not
the USA's -- is the world's norm. 
     "There are different poverties. In El Salvador poverty drags
one to a slow death.  It's a life not worthy of human beings.  It
also brings violent death.  It's the poor, 60,000 of them here,
who are assassinated because they want change.
     "The cause of poverty is not lack of industriousness.
Injustice here is structural, and this oppression is what
liberation theology applies to.  God shows himself to the
oppressed, as when he freed the Israelites from bondage in Egypt.
God's basic reaction is to liberate --  "I have heard the cries
of my people and I've come to free them."  
     "Some theology says God shows himself to the powerful. 
Reagan says God has blessed the USA in particular because they're
so powerful.  That's at least a heresy, if not a blasphemy."
     We noted that liberation theology, which pursues structural
change, is often associated with Marxism. Is liberation theology
Marxist, then?
     "No, Marxism is not essential to liberation theology.  What
is essential is a good understanding of reality.  If Marx helps,
great. The current system is not producing life, and Marx is
helpful to understand and criticize capitalism.  Of course, its
analysis needs to be refined, but Marxism is the best tool for
looking at the system from below.  Marx has nothing to do with
Lenin or Stalin or repressive dictatorships.  They are political. 
Marx is economic.
     "Whether you're a Marxist or not, you must admit that in
Latin America there is a class struggle.  While other systems
mask it, Marx explains its economic roots.  You'll find the Old
Testament, with its prophets railing against the rich and
powerful, has more in common with Marx than any other system.
     "A prerequisite to understanding liberation theology is
experiencing or exposure to oppression. If you experience El
Salvador's oppression, you see that the horizon of your life is
no longer you.  If you don't have this reaction, I can't explain
liberation theology to you. I don't understand how a real
believer in God cannot do his utmost to change this death into
life."
     Listening to this passionate priest, I couldn't help but
think of my friends at home who have not had the opportunity I've
had to sit on a filthy wooden toilet seat of a corrugated tin
latrine -- the proud possession of a family of eight who are the
envy of a neighborhood where this is a rare luxury. A pig
snorting through the corn cobs outside the door is another mark
of affluence unknown in Edmonds, Washington, USA.
     Without experiencing the reality of poverty, how can anyone
understand the importance of a movement that, for the first time
in centuries, is helping peasants build a better reality for
their children? My friends at home see it as a simple choice
between free elections or a Godless Marxist dictatorship.
     "The major opponent of liberation theology has been
governments.  After his famous visit to Central America, Nelson
Rockefeller said, "Liberation Theology threatens US interests." 
The CIA fights liberation theology because it openly attacks the
system.
     "There is persecution of religious activists. Three
archbishops in Latin America have been assassinated as have 22
priests in Guatemala and El Salvador.
     "The establishment sees that religion will not go away, so
they encourage the fundamentalist sects that spread the gospel of
apathy (colonial theology).
     As the Father talked, the crack and thud of bombs near and
far reminded us of the reality that he understood. I wondered if
Americans at home would ever understand.
      
Reflections

     Now I was truly exhausted, and skipped the group dinner to
eat alone in the hotel and lick my intellectual wounds in
silence.
    Our week in El Salvador is over. Tomorrow we travel on to
Nicaragua -- only 45 minutes away by plane, but situated clear on
the opposite end of the political spectrum.
    Here in El Salvador, I've learned how much I'd underestimated
the American press's ability to shape and steer public attention. 
El Salvador is the terrified and horribly abused child in our
neighborhood that I never noticed. And only by seeing it
firsthand have I learned that it is MY family that is doing much
of the abusing.
    While the statistics of poverty, infant mortality,
unemployment, assassinations and U.S. military aid speak for
themselves, the personal souvenir I'll take home is the human
face behind all those numbers.  I leave El Salvador with a
respect for the capability, spirit and dignity of the Salvadoran
campesino. 
    The only hope I see is in forcing America to look into the
eyes of the beautiful face of its victim.





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DAY 7 -- NICARAGUA

     It felt strangely exciting to land at Sandino Airport. These
are very tough times here, obviously. In its ten year history,
the Nicaraguan revolution has been wracked by a war, the
hurricane, a devastating U.S. embargo and a huge national debt
left by Somoza.
     But already I felt none of the fear and tension of El
Salvador.  There were soldiers around, sure. But unlike the
internal security forces of El Salvador, Nicaragua's soldiers
milled around, hanging out with the people, dressed in casual
green uniforms that looked like Boy Scout uniforms with the
badges torn off. The water's rationed, there's not much food, but
these people seem to have a spirit which I imagine is akin to
that which enabled Revolutionary France to take on all of Europe
two centuries ago. Happily, we tossed our code word for Nicaragua
(Nebraska) out the window -- Toto, we're here.

NICARAGUA
   Nicaraguans, led by the Sandinista Front, overthrew the U.S.-
backed dictator, Anastasio Somoza, in 1979.  The new government
carried out land reform, made health care and education available
to everyone and developed a "mixed economy" combining public and
private enterprise.  The economy grew strongly until 1982, when
the contra war began taking its toll.
    The Reagan administration, calling the Nicaraguan government
"Marxist" and a threat to U.S. and Central American security,
organized and financed a counter-revolutionary ("contra") army,
based in Honduras and Costa Rica, which has waged a war on
Nicaraguan civilians. Washington also launched economic warfare,
cutting off international lending and imposing a trade embargo.
    Elections in 1984 produced a strong majority for the
Sandinista Front (FSLN), and a constitution has been drafted and
adopted.  Nicaragua has a non-aligned foreign policy; during the
war it has obtained arms to defend itself from a number of
sources, mostly from the Soviet bloc.  The Nicaraguan government
has repeatedly offered to sign a regional peace treaty banning
any foreign troops or bases.  Today, while the U.S.-funded
contras continue to menace Nicaragua, the country's main problem
is the economic crisis compounded by the U.S. embargo and the
devastating 1988 hurricane.
      
Managua, a One-Story City

     Mark, our local guide, met us with a roomy bus and we
enjoyed a brief city tour. Brief. Virtually everything was
destroyed in the devastating 1972 earthquake and never rebuilt.
Managua today is little more than a series of vacant lots that
used to be buildings, a few memorials and statues, multi-story
buildings that are now capped-off one story buildings, and the
grassy field that marks the core of the city.
     There's no real downtown and no addresses. If you write a
letter to someone, you address it something like: "The house two
blocks toward the lake from where the Pepsi building used to be."
     We stopped at the cathedral square -- a gutted, overgrown
memorial to the earthquake, with the belltower clock stopped at
the terrible hour... 12:33 pm. We also saw the eternal flame of
the country and the stately but crumbling National Palace.
     I took plenty of photos, and at one point, as I sat at the
foot of the cathedral reloading my camera, a little kid with 1.5
arms and a dirty grey swiss-cheese shirt put his one whole arm
around my shoulders and observed.

Somoza vs. Sandino

     Like just about any country down here in "banana land",
Nicaragua has a history of strong-arm dictators, a small but
extremely wealthy landowning class, and an exploited peasantry.
U.S. Marines occupied the country from 1912 to 1932 in order to
"protect" big business interests against Nicaraguans who wanted
to change the colonial-style economy. In the 1930s, the U.S.
withdrew its troops and established the friendly Somoza family
dictatorship... at about the same time as a popular guerrilla
leader named Sandino was assassinated.
     Anastasio Somoza ruled with an iron fist, personnally
amassing a huge fortune -- his family owned a fourth of all the
farmable land in Nicaragua. His blatant corruption became
intolerable in the aftermath of the 1972 earthquake when he
pocketed U.S. relief money. This stoked the smoldering discontent
of the Nicaraguans, and the revolutionary Sandinista movement
(named after Sandino) grew in power and popularity.
    In 1979, the Sandinistas threw Somoza out and installed a
revolutionary government.  With wide popular support they pursued
their revolutionary agenda -- land reform, literacy programs, day
care, better health care and creating a mixed economy.
    The U.S. responded with military and economic warfare,
funding the Contra War and forbidding trade with the fledgling
nation. To make sure of their isolation, the U.S. government
placed mines in Nicaraguan harbors. Though Central American
leaders have made proposals to stabilize the region (like the
Arias Peace Plan), Reagan consistently refused to accept them. 
    Since 1983, the revolution's goals have been put on hold as
they fight to survive.  Today it looks as if Nicaragua has won
the Contra battle but is left with a ruined economy. The war -- 
now an economic, diplomatic and psychological one with the USA --
goes on.

Mr. Ortega's Neighborhood

     For the next week, we'll live just down the street from the
home of "Daniel" -- as Nicaraguans call their president, Daniel
Ortega. Considering his reputation in the U.S. as a repressive
dictator, security at his home is a joke. Next to the famous
green door is just one guard, and at each end of the street is a
chain to stop traffic. In El Salvador, the rich and powerful live
behind a shield of walls, guards and tinted glass. Here in
Nicaragua, there's only one tinted-glass limousine -- the U.S.
embassy's. 
     Our home was a middle-class rambler with 6-bed dorms for men
and women, a fine dining room/meeting room with maps, folk art
and liberation theology songs on the wall, a large fruit bin,
water cooler, a fan and a lounge with a library.
     Times are tough in war-torn Nicaragua. Because of the
effects of the low intensity conflict, we had lots of
restrictions. Flush the toilet rarely and put no paper in it.
Waterless days are Tuesday and Friday, so Managua's million
inhabitants wash and cook with water from a barrel filled the day
before. We had plenty of food, but if you go to a Chinese
restaurant for dinner, you get your choice of rice and beans...
or beans and rice. Since glass is rare, many soft drinks are
served in plastic bags with straws. Reuse your plastic water cups
and generally be very careful with electricity. 
     The economy is suffering. Changing money, we got 3500
cordobas to the dollar.  It will be 4000 by the time we leave
next week -- 36,000% inflation. The prices on our drink cooler
are in pencil.
     We heard loud bangs outside, and immediately thought of
bombs, as we'd heard often in El Salvador. But we soon found out
that this was the festival of Mary's Immaculate Conception --
these were not bombs or bullets, just the bang of children
throwing firecrackers.
     
Ronnie, Gorby, Danny... and Marx?
 
     We met in the Foreign Ministry building (Nicaragua's "State
Department") with Roberto Vargas, a Nicaraguan who had lived 40
years in the USA organizing unions and as a member of the San
Francisco city council for 10 years.  He was just a seemingly
normal guy, quite casual, with lots of nervous energy shaking in
his leg and a great Cheech and Chong accent. 
     We asked Mr. Vargas why he thought the U.S. was so against
the Sandinistas.
     "Nicaragua is dangerous because it threatens U.S. economic
control in Central America. It's an example of one of the few
places in the world where money does not buy political power."





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Tour member Art admired this Sandinista soldier's army hat, so
the soldier took it off and gave it to him.

     We asked about one of Nicaragua's most pressing problems
with the U.S., the huge debt owed to U.S. banks.
     "Yes, the debt. When we won our revolution in l979 there was
only $3 million in the bank -- enough to run our little country
for one day.  We inherited a $2 billion debt, much of which
Somoza borrowed in the last year of his regime.  At the time, we
were earnestly explaining to American banks that the revolution
was about to topple Somoza, and his men would flee with the
money. We told them we could not be obligated, legally or
morally, to pay this money back. Still they loaned.
     "Latin America has a $430 billion debt.  It can never and
will never be paid.  U.S. banks loaned all this to military
dictators... and now want the people to pay.  The dictators are
dead but that debt lives on.  The US talks of belt-tightening,
yet the U.S. itself freely gives away guns and mines for our
harbors.
     "And this U.S. embargo goes on and on, justified on legal
grounds only as long as the U.S. president calls Nicaragua a
"national threat". Even as we were assessing our hurricane
wounds, Reagan extended it another six months."
     I asked Mr. Vargas about Ortega's ill-timed visit to Moscow.
Why did he bait the U.S. Congress by going just before an
important vote on contra aid?
     "This visit had been planned for three months.  You don't
just call up Gorbachev and reschedule him. It was the U.S.
Congress that purposely changed the date of the vote on contra
aid to just after the visit."
     Is Nicaragua a Marxist dictatorship?
     "Our intent is a participatory democracy. But you don't move
from centuries of dictatorship to full democracy with the snap of
a finger.  Even the USA waited 12 years after its revolutionary
victory before they had a real election.
     "Our National Assembly is a pluralistic system with the
entire political spectrum represented, proportional to the votes
they received. There are parties to the right and to the left,
including the Marxist and Communist Parties, both of which, by
the way, refused to sign our new constitution, calling it
"bourgeois".
     "Pluralism will not be affected by the current economic
hardship.  The hurricane has brought us to our knees for awhile. 
We need peace so our youngsters can produce rather than defend."
     And the contras?
     "The contras are at a low ebb -- maybe 2,000 -- but they're
hard to count. (The U.S. media reports 11,000.)  Like an amoeba,
they divide in all sorts of crazy ways. To the disgust of many
contra supporters, the contra leadership has agreed to negotiate
with the Sandinistas. Amnesty is alive and contras are coming
home.  We invite them to go back to their land, to vote, to even
run for office."
     What is the major problem in U.S.-Nicaraguan relations?
     "We want a realistic North-South dialogue.  But the USA
insists on seeing an East-West situation in everything."
     Then this high-placed but very down-to-earth Sandinista
leader took the time to help us find a toilet (with paper in it!)
before walking us to the door.

Opposition to the Sandinistas

     Our next meeting was in the headquarters of one of the
strongest opposition voices in the country -- the Democratic
Coordinator, an organization of labor unions, business groups and
center and conservative parties.
     The simple building was covered with anti-Sandinista
slogans.  We met with the executive secretary and heard a fiery,
determined lawyer -- a former leader in the struggle against
Somoza -- explain his opposition to the Sandinistas.
     "This building is the temple of democracy in Nicaragua.  In
10 or l5 years Managua will be a ghost town if the Sandinistas
stay in.  They have betrayed the revolution.
     "The Sandinistas are totally Marxist-Leninist, completely
totalitarian, ruling by terror and fear.  That's why this group
of democratic organizations united to form the "Democratic
Coordinator". It includes two AFL/CIO-backed unions, seven
private business enterprises and seven political parties.
     "The Sandinistas justify their strict rule by saying that a
country without a democratic tradition cannot become a democracy
overnight, but this is simply not true. The people aren't being
given the chance to move from dictatorship to democracy."
     We asked: But aren't things better now than under Somoza?
     "We never suffered under Somoza like we have under the
Sandinistas. Things here are very very bad. The Sandinistas have
done absolutely nothing to help the health situation.  There's no
aspirin in the city. During Somoza there was a daily gift of
bread, milk and a vitamin pill to each school student.  Human
rights here today are horrible.  They can only be compared to
Cuba.  Many are in jail for only talking against the state in the
streets." 
     Does Nicaragua have a "mixed economy" -- with both socialism
and private enterprise -- as the Sandinistas claim?
     "Yes, we have lots of small businesses and private
enterprise -- for now. But things are uncertain.  At any moment,
the Sandinistas could confiscate something."
     What can the U.S. do to improve relations?
     "Bush says he wants a policy of dialogue.  That's good. 
U.S. foreign policy should permit us to evolve without foreign
interference of any kind. We don't want the U.S. and USSR to
negotiate it for us.  That's how Cuba ended up in the Eastern
Bloc."

Revolutionaries in T-shirts

     We had dinner with Sophia Montenegro, the editor of the
editorial page in "Barricada", the Sandinista newspaper.  She
talked on the women's movement and the Sandinistas.  She had been
a rich kid who, after a Somoza massacre, was sent by her parents
to Florida to get an education and, "if you're lucky, find a
husband and stay in the USA."  She's been with Barricada since
its first edition in 1979.  "That's 10 years and two Reagan
administrations -- I think I've graduated."
     She was young, with braces on her teeth, with a big but good 
looking face and nipples that caused two long creases in her
Picasso T-shirt.  She spoke with brilliant intellectual force,
powered by a passion I can't find in my home town.  Even the way
she put her cigarettes out gave me goose bumps. What I'd give to
share her thoughts with people who say the Sandinistas are either
agents of or duped by the Soviet Union.  She is a nationalist who
understands the reality of poverty and American domination in a
macho Catholic society.
     We asked: Is Nicaragua totalitarian?
     "As you know, we don't have a so-called democratic
mentality.  This society has never experienced democracy.  We
want democracy, but you can't dictate instant democracy.
     "Violence is wanting food and having nothing to put into
your mouth.  Since the Spaniards came we've had 500 years of
violence.  A new mentality is growing here."
     What about charges of a censored press and human rights
violations in Nicaragua?
     "There's no such thing as objectivity.  The best you can do
is to explain your position, what you want and what you see. 
Obviously the Rockefellers and Barricada each have a purpose.  We
are the paper of the party in power.  We make no big deal about
being leftist.  We support the policies that support the people.
     "According to a Harvard study, during a time of war, human
rights are better here in Nicaragua than they were in the USA
during World War II.
     "We are working hard.  Of course there's a war, but the
revolution can't wait.  We've outlawed the death penalty (30
years is the maximum prison term) and it's illegal to advertise
using a woman's body.  But many problems confront us."
     My writing couldn't begin to capture the philosophical
fervor of Sophia's talk.  One hour, two beers and five cigarettes
after she came, she was gone to a party of her friends.  This
country is run by people like this.  Young poets and musicians
and guerrillas in T-shirts and jeans whose people call them by
their first name.

On My Own in Managua

     After a busy day of meetings, I needed to get out and have a
travel-on-my-own experience.  I walked to the famous huge and
bustling oriental market -- ample evidence that the private
sector is alive and well in revolutionary Nicaragua.
     It was dark.  I peed on a wall with a Nicaraguan.  The
streets were swimming with people as the shops closed down.
Transportation was clogged.  Taxis acted more like buses,
gathering five or six people going in a general direction.  The
buses reminded me of high powered magnets in a bucket of iron
filings.
     I walked, following locals down dark sidewalks in order not
to fall down any of Managua's notorious uncovered manholes.  My
destination was the pyramid-shaped Intercontinental Hotel --
strewn with Christmas lights, the only major building, along with
the 12-story Bank of America building, to survive the '72
earthquake.
     The Intercontinental is your typical rich dinghy in a poor
puddle. Mariachi band at pool side, North Americans, rich local
businessmen, their families and Nicaraguans who don't consider
themselves prostitutes sipping tall drinks, while waiters tried
but failed to provide suitable service.
     After a visit to the book and gift shop and a great sit in
the immaculate bathroom, I crossed the street for a light dinner
and a look at the restaurant's famous photos of pre-earthquake
Nicaragua.  Then I taxied home.  I had no idea of my address, I
just said: "La casa de Daniel Ortega, por favor."


     
DAY 8

     Granola for breakfast!  I woke with a sore throat, covered
with that sweaty-about-to-die feeling, so I ate and drank a lot.
I tried hyperventilating -- assuming that since we need oxygen to
live, more can only help -- and decided to not be so intense.  I
want to be healthy.

Human Rights --
The Opposition Voice

     While most governments have their own office of human
rights, there's generally a more critical independent monitoring
organization. In Nicaragua, it's the Permanent Commission of
Human Rights. This strong anti-Sandinista voice was our first
stop today. We met with its director, Louis Hernandez, who once
fought Somoza and now fights the Sandinistas.
     He receives reports of about l30 human rights violations a
month in Nicaragua and says 3,500 people are in prison for
political reasons. His phones are tapped by the government and
his mail is read.
     Mr. Hernandez, agreeing with everyone else we met with,
doesn't want the U.S. embargo since it harms only the poor people
and radicalizes the Sandinistas. He opposes any foreign
intervention. He said, "500,000 Nicaraguans have fled to the USA,
supposedly to escape political repression, but most actually go
for economic reasons."

Hurricane Joan

     After lunch in our homey dining hall, we went to a poor part
of town to visit the leader of the Moravian (Hussite) church,
Norman Bent.
     Bent works with the Miskito Indians, the indigenous people
of the Atlantic Coast which, in October, 1988, was devastated by
Hurricane Joan.  The hurricane caused nearly a billion dollars of
damage, wiped out 80% of the major city of Bluefields, and caused
serious long-term ecological damage to forests, farms and
fisheries. 
     "Today our economy is worse than ever but the revolution
will survive.  There is no alternative. It has a certain
mysticism which the USA cannot understand. Under the Sandinistas,
a people who historically have had no rights are getting autonomy
and dignity. Central America has accepted this revolution based
on pluralism, self-determination, a mixed economy and non-
alignment. 
     "If the people here ever believed their leaders have
betrayed them, they'd be out in a minute.  We all have guns.
     "Strangely, it's the USA elections that affect us most.  Who
you elect affects us even more than it affects you!"
     We had the chance to worship with the Miskitos and English-
speaking East Coast blacks. Pastor Bent was as impressive as his
reputation.  It was so moving to see and hear local poor people
giving freely to their even poorer countrymen, the hurricane
victims in their East Coast homeland. The organ music was upbeat
and happy. The church was packed out. The people sang like God
was listening.

Shaking Hands with History

     After dinner, we went downtown to celebrate the biggest
church festival of the year -- La Purisma, a festival unique to
Nicaragua celebrating the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin.
    Managua's main drag was packed with at least l00,000 people,
mostly children, all visiting the various displays -- like parade
floats that stay put -- and stand in line to get a gift.  Even in
these post-hurricane crisis days, the leaders of the country are
out to celebrate.  Each branch of government participates as do
major businesses like the national airline.  There are goodies
sold everywhere, firecrackers, huge dolls, dancing in the streets
and live music at various stalls.  Mary and peace are the themes
in this "Godless Marxist nation".
     We saw a cluster of eager TV cameras and some commotion, and
we figured it must be Daniel Ortega.  He was in the street, just
finishing a TV interview, surrounded by children, bodyguards and
the press, handing out wooden toys to the children. Next to us
two local girls giggled. "He's so cute!"       (Later we also saw
his brother, Humberto, walking down the street with a gaggle of
aides and bodyguards.  Security here is ridiculous.  Anyone can
get a gun and anyone so inclined could knock off Daniel or his
fellow "commandantes.")
     Wendy and I jockeyed our way to within five feet of Ortega. 
I gave him a "Thumbs up" and he acknowledged us and made a point
to come over and shake two friendly North American hands.
     Ortega and his entourage moved out while our group trailed.
I went in for another close-up photo with Art who wanted a
handshake.  Daniel's security was skimpy but hard working.  As I
got close, fingers frisked me lightly, being careful to protect
Daniel from a gun but not from his public. While I was being
frisked, grandfatherly Art got right in there. Daniel gave him a 
handshake and I've never seen Art so animated and overjoyed. "He
shook my hand!" he said, and we hugged.  We felt the magnitude of
this little revolution for the people of Nicaragua.


DAY 9 -- Americans vs.
         Their Embassy

     It sure was good to talk to my wife, Anne, on the phone this
morning.  Someone figured she woke at 4:00 am to get me at the
right time.  That's Anne.  I wish she could be here with me.  
     We were up early to go to the weekly demonstration at the
U.S. embassy.  The U.S. citizens who live in Nicaragua are afraid
the U.S. government will use their safety as an excuse to invade
this country, as the U.S. did in Grenada in 1983. So, for the
last 256 Thursdays, the U.S. citizens living in Managua have met
at the embassy to remind their government that they don't want to
be "saved" that way. "Don't invade on our account."





[PHOTO: 2"]

Each Thursday, Americans in Managua demonstrate at the U.S.
Embassy.

     The embassy staff watched through the windows of the most
heavily fortified building in Nicaragua as we walked in a large
circle, singing and getting to know the impressive group of
"Norte Americanos" who've made Managua their home. The local
Lutheran bishop led a protest song to the Battle of Jericho tune.
     About a dozen Nicaraguan policemen stood in a line between
us and the building, symbolically "protecting" the U.S. embassy
from its citizens.
     Next, several impressive speakers took turns at the
microphone. I had a hard time ignoring a star wars-type periscope
camera on the embassy rooftop which turned, zoomed in and
photographed every person present. (I'll have to look at my CIA
file someday -- although I've heard that such a request would be
noted on my file, as well. With the possibility of a fascist
America in the future, these are big decisions.) 
     I bought a very revolutionary-looking Sandinista army flag
from an American who's earning money to bring much-needed
electrical parts from the USA to Nicaragua. I also agreed to take
a bundle of mail back home. Apparently tourists are more reliable
than the U.S. Postal Service when it comes to getting letters
into the USA from a land our government wishes we'd just forget
about.

Sandinista Economics

     We rushed back to our house to talk to David Dye, a North
American who's been in Nicaragua since 1982.  He discussed the
economics of Sandinism, analyzing what has caused the current
economic crisis -- natural disasters, the contra war, the
situation inherited from Somoza, the U.S. embargo and Sandinista
mismanagement.
     "There has not been a wholesale change in the economic
system since Somoza.  The economy is wildly unbalanced, with
36,000% inflation and an equally wild deficit. Central America in
general is in a recession -- it takes 30% more bananas to buy a
tractor today than it did ten years ago.
     "The Sandinistas blame all the problems on external factors
-- the contra war, the U.S. embargo, hurricanes, and so on. On
the other hand, big business ignores all this and blames the
Sandinistas. The answer is in the middle.
     "The Sandinistas are trying to pursue two goals
simultaneously: increased productivity and a major redistribution
of wealth. Historically, these are two contradictory objectives.
Often, the most efficient economy is not the most just. But the
Sandinistas are approaching it on two fronts: using socialism to
achieve equality, but allowing a free marketplace to boost
productivity.
     "They're willing to sacrifice some efficiency to help the
poor. While many free-enterprisers argue comparative bushels per
acre, peasants know they'll be dirt poor either way -- and they'd
prefer to be "their own dirt" poor.  Still, the government
understands "the magic of the marketplace", and the economy is
pragmatically mixed.
     "Normally in a free economy, the rich get richer and the
poor get more poor and more numerous. But the Sandinistas control
some parts of the economy, and let private enterprise control the
rest. They control banks so the poor can get credit. They hold a
monopoly over exports, which amounts to a tax on big business.
Another of the government's Robin Hood tactics is confiscation or
expropriation of underused land.
     "In a mixed economy, big business won't be as rich or secure
as they'd like.  Unions are stronger, there's lots of government
controls and they can't manipulate the political scene. Big
business people are angry.  The question is can and will they
learn to live within a system that is more interested in economic
justice than economic efficiency?
     "Current statistics show an economic basket case, but the
underlying framework is being established. 
     "This is the first real alternative to Marxism for the Third
World.  It's exciting for the Developing World, and threatening to a
First World that would prefer no middle ground between capitalism
and communism.
     "America's traditional opposition to communism is not based
on keeping countries open to democracy but on keeping countries
open to American capitalism.
     "The open door policy of the USA is here to defend business
opportunities -- not people.  The real objection the U.S. has
against the USSR isn't political, but that it has slammed its
door on Western economic exploitation."
     We asked David if he would call the Sandinistas Marxists.
     "The Sandinistas are Marxist in that they see that societies
are divided into antagonistic classes.  But they also understand
that they must coexist with the private sector. Yes, there are
undemocratic tendencies among the Sandinistas.  But you must do
more than criticize. Suggest a better way."

New Slums and Old Resorts

     After lunch we visited the poorest part of Managua, a
squatter's village on land the government doesn't want people
living on since it's on a fault. 
     We explored this shack settlement fenced with barbed wire
for the animals and filled with "mini-skirt" houses made of
concrete block lower walls with tin upper halves for earthquake
security. There were outhouses, outdoor wash rooms, electricity
provided free for weak lights, a pay water faucet for each block
(1 cordoba per jug... or 3,500 gallons for a dollar) and
impromptu baseball games in the dirt alleys.





[PHOTO: 2"]

The poorest of Nicaragua's poor.

      I was impressed. This may sound strange to say, but it was
vastly preferable to the slums of El Salvador.  Of course,
Salvador has a higher population density, which increases
crowding. But also, the Nicaraguan government seems to be working
with its people to provide electricity, running water and even to
clear title to the land.
     The kids seemed happier, playing baseball in the street with
a stick and a plastic pill bottle for a ball. Baseball is
Nicaragua's national pastime.
     The school was decorated with revolutionary slogans. The
graffiti we'd seen in El Salvador was mostly anti-government. In
Nicaragua it was pro-government.  The "people" movements use far
more spray paint. And while San Salvador is fighting bombings and
"terrorism" everywhere, Managua has no problems this way.
Insurgents can function only in a country where they have some
popular support.
     Next we had the pleasure all Nicaraguans now have of
swimming at Somoza's old resort complex at a nearby crater lake.
After the '79 Revolution, it was converted from a private resort
to a public one. It's strange to see the ten-year-old Diners Card
and American Express Card stickers in the formerly classy
restaurant which now serves only beer and sodas. 

The Only Church That Needs a Parking Lot

     We attended 5:00 o'clock mass at the lovely Church of El
Domingo, home of Cardinal Obando y Bravo. The clean white stucco
building was filled with Nicaraguans in American-style suits,
ties and dresses. Of the churches I saw, it was the only one with
real wooden pews rather than old metal folding chairs. It's also
the only church in Managua with a congregation that drives to
mass.
     Threatened by the rising fervor of the popular church, or
liberation theology, the Pope made Obando this region's cardinal.
The service lacked any hint of the "God of the Poor" message that
plays such a big part in the popular church.  They sang Glory
Glory Hallelujah! 
     I joined the well-clad, well-fed rich of Nicaragua in the
celebration of the Eucharist with the cardinal who is the leading
contra-revolutionary voice in Nicaragua. Most of our group
refused to commune with this guy, but I couldn't pass up the
chance to get spiritually intimate with the religious leader of
the right.  Even though his line was longer I waited for the
opportunity to look him right in the eyes as he placed the body
of Christ in my mouth.

Giving Farms to Farmers 

     After dinner, we heard a talk by Ivan Garcia, a former
priest who returned to Nicaragua after "the triumph" in '79 to
help in agriculture reform.  He chose not to stay in Nicaragua as
long as it was "a farm of Somoza's and a satellite of the USA". 
But he wasn't a guerrilla.  To him, Christianity means working
for the liberation of the poor, oppressed and persecuted. In
Nicaragua he saw the exciting opportunity to fuse religion and
politics.
     As one of the founders of Nicaragua's agrarian reform
program he explained the three stages of land redistribution:
First, they confiscated Somoza's huge personal holdings and used
them to grow export crops. Next, they took some privately-owned
lands from large landholders that were abandoned, left idle or
not being used "efficiently". In the third stage, beginning in
1985, the government has adopted a stricter definition of what
constitutes "efficient" use in order to expropriate more land
from the wealthy.
     The expropriated land is then given or sold cheaply to the
peasants for private farms or to form local co-ops or larger
state-run farms.
     Nicaragua is still 40% privately owned by big shots
(untouched by the revolution), with 60% being small private
farms, local co-ops or state farms -- the benefactors of the
revolution. As a result of land reform, some 90,000 families now
own land. The USA is losing family farms at an equally dramatic
rate....
     "Of course, the big landowners don't like how the government
defines "efficient use" in order to justify confiscating their
lands. I'd say the cards are beginning to be stacked seriously
against the big landowners."
     Such an arbitrary government policy really rubbed my
capitalist grain the wrong way, but I guess the concern is not
for the poor rich guys, but for the masses who, before the
revolution, were basically feudal serfs. They've chosen economic
justice over economic efficiency.
     "For ten years," Garcia continued, "the Sandinistas have
stayed with their convictions.  I've never seen a government that
accepts its mistakes and tries to improve like they do.  The big
question is how long this tiny country can survive the low
intensity warfare of the USA.  The Sandinista miracle is that
we've survived.  To continue, at least for the short run, we need
the support of the world."

     I went to bed with the thought that when Jimmy Swaggart came
to visit "wayward" Nicaragua, he was met by Daniel Ortega at the
airport.  Along with his message of colonial theology, he gave
Daniel a Bible -- in English.  Daniel already has one... in
Spanish.

DAY 10 -- Contra Country

     Today we used the local "Witness for Peace" bus, which is
very hardy and specializes in contra country trips, and drove
three hours north to the city of Esteli.
     It was good to leave Managua and see small-town and rural
Nicaragua, remembering that this is basically what the country
is.  The land was green, with rugged stunted mountains and few
roads. Each intersection is a sleepy circus of hitchhikers,
billboards and children selling things -- cakes, soft drinks in
plastic bags (everything is conserved here with the embargo, even
pop bottles) and peeled oranges, which are green in Central
America.
     Traffic is sparse in the countryside. There are few private
cars. Most vehicles are trucks, overloaded buses and military
vehicles.  Soldiers guard each bridge against contra terrorism. 
Sandinista graffiti decorate every wall. 

The Nicaraguan Constitution

     We visited the district governmental headquarters, a humble
building with a pile of used toilet paper next to the barely
working toilets, very meager security checks, and good coffee in
plastic cups.  We met with Orlando Penela, the Sandinista
representative in the National Assembly for the region of Esteli.
     He explained the two year project of writing the new
constitution of Nicaragua.  "In Somoza's time the people were
unaware of any constitution.  Now 96 people representing each
region and social sector and all parties studied constitutions of
many countries and drafted a constitution." (The USA refused
visas to the seven man constitutional research committee who
planned to come to the USA to study ours.)
     "Eight of the 96 delegates refused to sign the final
document.  The Communists and the Marxists called it too
bourgeois and the extreme right called it Marxist.
     "During the process the U.S. embassy was notorious for
trying to disrupt and deligitimize the constitution by bribing
various groups to not sign it.
     "This constitution is not just for show or because of USA
pressure. It has been the Sandinistas' intent and it continues
despite the war.  The principle of national sovereignty, not any
particular ideology, is the foundation of our constitution. 
National, individual and social rights are written in.  Of
course, social needs require a standard of living which we don't
have yet.
     "Like the U.S. Constitution, ours is also in keeping with
the political ideas of Montesquieu, except that a fourth branch
of government has been added -- the Electoral branch.  We have
true pluralism on a uniquely Latin American foundation."
     Are Nicaraguan elections really fair and open?
     "In the l984 elections, even with the contra war at its
peak, 1,000,000 out of 3,500,000 Nicaraguans voted.  True, there
were seven parties who boycotted the '84 election, but they have
now said they'll run in the next one."
     We asked about Russian and Cuban aid.
     "Yes, we get aid from these countries and it comes with no
strings or flags attached.  In the old days, the USA took over
control of our imports and exports. The U.S. flag flew higher
than the Nicaraguan flag in our own country. We've seen nothing
like this from the Soviets."

A Christian Base Community

     Nearly every Nicaraguan stressed how, while these meetings
were important, the most important meetings were between us and
the people in the street.  And tonight we were the guests of
exactly those people.
     The town of Esteli is a dusty rusty sleepy cliche of a Latin
American town.  I expected to see Butch and Sundance at the local
bank. The church on the big overgrown main square, the cobbled
streets without much traffic, the hombres hanging around,
shoeshine boys chatting with newspaper boys, soldiers playing
basketball with a guy whose arm was blown off in the contra war,
crooked signs fading into a peeled and cracked pastel plaster
backdrop, and broken benches in the park gave everything a
Sunday-afternoon-in-the-Great-Depression kind of ambience.
     We walked to the edge of town to visit a Christian Base
Community. These Christian Base Communities are a powerful
grassroots social and political force empowering poor communities
throughout Latin America.
     In our modern world, we've compartmentalized religion,
making it a Sunday-only affair with no relation to our everyday
lives. The Christian Base Communities are an attempt to integrate
Christianity into the real world.
     In regular discussion meetings -- the core of the Community
-- people talk about their daily problems and find solutions from
each other and from the Bible.
     These peasants see God as a God of the poor. Refugees can
relate to the story of the Israelites wandering the Sinai for 40
years; those whose loved ones have been martyred see them
"resurrected" in the community as a whole; like the early
Christians, they are persecuted; like Jesus, they are crucified.  
   In Central America, Christian faith is being combined with a
revolutionary nationalism and an understanding that traditional
powers cannot be counted on to help. The poor are helping
themselves.
     Christian Base Communities are the charcoal briquettes
fueling liberation theology.  Most of these people don't even
understand the term but they keep cooking regardless of what
their bishop says.  God is the God of the Poor -- and that's
them.
     Religion and politics mingle in Nicaragua. There are priests
who fill two important cabinet posts in the Sandinista
government. Fernando Cardenal is a Jesuit in charge of the
Ministry of Education -- shaping the young minds of Nicaragua's
future. Miguel D'Escoto, the Foreign Minister, is a Maryknoll
priest and an author of the Contadora plan. Ernesto Cardenal, a
former Trappist Monk and former minister of culture, is still
active in the Sandinista government. They feel they must be true
to the people -- not to the Roman hierarchy. They disagree with
the Pope and believe that Christians can be revolutionaries.  
     The peasants of Esteli invited us into their humble meeting
hall.  Their founders, a husband and wife who organized the
church and local community and who were killed by Somoza, were
painted on the front wall.  We sat on a long wooden bench. The
bare fluorescent light combined with the rough brick walls and
tile and timber roof to give the place a rustic sort of warmth.
The women and children crowded in, obviously wearing their best
clothes and eager to meet the fourteen Yankees who traveled way
up to this northern edge of Nicaragua, so close to the contras
and the Honduran border, to see them.     
     We introduced ourselves as citizens of the USA from
Washington -- Washington state, not D.C.  The old lady who seemed
to lead this Christian Base Community said "It does not matter if
you live right next to the "Casa Blanca" as long as your heart is
with the people of Central America."
     These Christian Base Communities have a mystical strength
that has caused the USA government to carry out expensive and
sophisticated studies to try to understand them.  It's the hearts
and minds of these small, poor but strong people that the USA's
foreign policy is after.  And so far, the policy is failing.
     Two great guitarists sang and strummed songs with titles
like "All I pray God is that I don't become indifferent."  Then
we settled into our roundtable discussion and question/answer
period which is the core of the Base Community process. When I
noted that no men were present a lady responded, "Part of
machismo is a fear of meetings."
     Coffee and cakes were passed around to us as we asked
questions.  (Our guide told us later that this was the first time
cake and coffee were served only to the guests.  The economic
times are very tough.) The people believed their miserable
economy was caused by the contras.  "Our government is trying
very hard.  Our spirit is not broken."  "Nicaragua is a threat to
the USA like a flea attacking an elephant." Another lady added,
"But, you have every reason to be afraid, because God is with
us." 
     The Nicaraguan people see the contras not as dedicated
counter-revolutionaries, but as mercenaries who simply thought
they could get a secure, well-paying job working for the CIA. One
lady clucked: "They guessed wrong." 
     The Christian Base Communities threaten the Vatican just as
they do the USA. They get little support from the Catholic
hierarchy.  Cardinal Obando y Bravo, the leading Catholic in
Nicaragua, is considered the strongest voice for the opposition
to the Sandinistas.  I asked if anyone knew where Obando gave his
first mass after being made a cardinal.  Everyone knew --
"Miami". I asked, why Miami?  A grey haired old lady said,
"Because it's nice to be among friends."
     I was impressed. These peasants were smart.  The
conversation flowed with the help of our translator. Finally, we
had to "distribute" the gringos to their respective host families
for the night.
     With smiles and hugs we big gawky gringos were awarded to
our hosts.  And one by one, we walked down dark dirt roads to our
homes for the night.  Tonight, I was a guest in Concepcion's
home.  It was very plain, with a dirt floor, a well-used black
and white TV and five or six neighbor kids enjoying a TV show.  A
little sick and quite tired, I wasn't able to muster even a
whimper of effervescence, although I did teach the children of
the home an exciting new game -- thumb wrestling.
     My private bedroom was tiny, with rough brick walls and an
old Donna Summers magazine photo stuck brown on the wall, lit by
a bare bulb that dangled from the corrugated tin roof. I asked
Concepcion where the light switch was. She twisted the bulb with
a smile that disappeared in the dark. At least I had privacy and
a light to do a little writing.
     The trip to the latrine out back gave me a flashlight
insight into their living conditions -- two family pigs, a pile
of firewood, a throat-level laundry wire and a pile of well-used
newspaper next to the toilet.
     My bed was hard burlap with strategically placed bumps and
lumps that my blanket was unable to pad.  I unscrewed my bulb,
worried about the nocturnal activities of the lizard I saw on the
wall, and began seven hours of on and off sleep with a chorus of
roosters crowing and dogs barking.  The joy of the night was the
pitter patter of a light rain shower on my tin roof.


LAST DAY 

     At 6:30, as the children of the village dropped by my house,
which was a bakery of sorts, to pick up chunks of bread and cake,
I thanked my host, grabbed a small cake and rejoined our group. 
All of us thought the experience was well worth the hard beds,
noisy night and bug bites.
     The morning was spent touring a resettlement co-op.  This
was a model camp funded in part by Sweden (the Scandinavian
countries support Nicaragua more than most countries) filled with
campesinos who were resettled away from contra-threatened areas. 
Still, this place was very close to the Honduran border, and just
yesterday we heard that the contras had slit the throats of two
more farmers.
     We saw poor people who understood the economic plight of the
government yet still supported the Sandinistas.  While economic
hard times erode the support of any political party in power, and
we know grumbling and frustration is on the rise, translating
into political apathy, there is still no strong alternative to
the Sandinistas, who are expected to rule on.

                               ***

     The Nicaraguan miracle is that they have survived --
survived against the combined forces of Hurricane Joan, President
Reagan, Brother Swaggart, Somoza's ghost... and their own
mismanagement. This "banana republic" is bruised and battered,
but is not about to say uncle.

Saying Goodbye, Going Home

    Back in Managua, we enjoyed our final reflection time
together in our lush back yard.  We discussed the segments of
society we were unable to meet with, compared our El Salvadoran
and Nicaraguan experiences, and got into how and why the Catholic
hierarchy is so against the people.
     We're a together group whose time has come to say goodbye. 
We left what we could for the locals to use. Art left his camera,
me my tape recorder. After arranging our baggage, we warmed each
other with goodbye hugs.
     On the plane trip home, I reflected on what I'd seen. Two
weeks went by like a lizard.  I was tired, eager to be home to
enjoy my family and Christmas, and aware that my fist has been
soaked in a brine of truth here and I'll never be the same. 
There's no doubt about what I've learned (or at least think I've
learned) and my understanding about what needs to be done. The
facts of Central America are widely available and known
intellectually, but the gates of America's moral consciousness
are shut. They must be opened.
     A day later I was back at my routine, back to the land of
smooth roads, reliable plumbing, Nut 'n Honey, Bush & Quayle. No
matter how compact the disc of my American life becomes, I'll
forever be scarred with an understanding of life on the edge of
our empire. 

Couch Potatoes for Justice?

     It's been a productive two weeks. Many thanks to the Center
for Global Education. And to you for traveling with me via this
journal.
     I came home with a feeling for the people of Central
America, and through them, the Developing World. It's interesting how
a concern for the world's poor people when fertilized with a
splash of firsthand experience and a dash of reading can slip a
decent person quietly into radical politics. I am frightened by
the obstacles between the people of the United States and truth. 
I'm frightened of a fascist future but I don't like the prospect
of being a soldier in this very awkward battle.  Central America
is just a peep show in a far reaching low intensity war.
     My calling is still to raise local awareness with all my
energy. But I also want to focus on my immediate life -- Anne,
Andy, my community, church and friends. This is the good life.
But I can't ignore the fact that millions are needlessly denied
this life, the good life. Having seen the tragedy of Central
America, and knowing my country is not helping, stirs me to be
concerned. More than concerned.
  
    
December 1989 up-date:  While my experiences are now nearly a
year old, recent events have generally deepened and confirmed my
impressions.  Jack Nelson-Pallmeyer, fresh back from these
countries, has written a post script to bring this journal up to
date.




     Events in El Salvador and Nicaragua have continued to unfold
in the year that's passed since my trip in December of 1988.  In
many ways the impressions I've recorded in this journal have been
deepened and confirmed. Here is a brief up-date by Jack Nelson-
Pallmeyer (author of War Against the Poor and my tour guide) who
has recently returned from another trip.

Postscript El Salvador
     The far right-wing Arena party now controls both the
congress and presidency in El Salvador (see page 12). Labeled a
"fascist party" by former U.S. Ambassador, Robert White, Arena is
now receiving nearly a million and half dollars a day in U.S.
government assistance.  The Arena party has introduced but not
formally approved a legislative package that has been compare to
laws under Nazi Germany in which it would be a crime to carry
anti-government material, hold a demonstration or talk to
international human rights groups.  1989 has been a time of
escalating violence in El Salvador.  In the fall representatives
of the FMLN and the Salvadoran government began a series of peace
talks.  Unfortunately, despite widespread sentiment in El
Salvador to end the war through negotiations, peace talks failed
when the Salvadoran armed forces and death squads escalated the
violence against popular organizations.  In a two week period in
October and November bombs ripped through the Lutheran Church
(the second such bombing in 1989 and part of a widespread attack
against religious groups), the home of Ruben Zamora (a leading
opposition figure), the offices of COMADRES (the Mothers of the
Disappeared, see page 16), and the offices of a large labor
federation (this bombing killed at least 10 people and wounded
dozens more).  The FMLN in the context of failed negotiations and
increased repression launched the largest military offensive of
the war in November.  The government responded by declaring a
state of siege. Then six priests, the Jesuit leadership of the
University of Central America in San Salvador and widely
respected voices of the people and moderation, were tortured and
executed in death squad fashion. This shined a particularly
bright light on the brutality of the El Salvador military and
government, even causing many in the U.S. government to question
the wisdom of what one congressman called "our funding of this
mayhem." My impression from talking to many experienced people is
that the biggest obstacle to peace in El Salvador is the
unwillingness of the U.S. to accept a negotiated end to the
conflict.  Perhaps most disturbing, a defector from El Salvador's
1st Infantry Brigade and member of a death squad recently
testified to human rights groups that the U.S. funds and provides
psychological training for death squads in El Salvador.  As long
as millions of U.S. aid dollars flow into El Salvador the
violence will continue.

Postscript Nicaragua
     The main emphasis of the U.S. war against Nicaragua has
shifted to the elections to be held February 25, 1990.  In mid-
1989 the Central American presidents signed an accord calling for
early elections in Nicaragua and the dismantling of the U.S.
backed contras based illegally in Honduras.  In violation of this
accord the U.S. congress continued to fund the contras with so-
called humanitarian aid and then closed their eyes to ongoing
contra attacks against civilians in Nicaragua.  Continued U.S.
support for the contras could threaten Nicaragua's elections. 
After a bloody contra ambush on October 21, the Nicaraguan
government ended a cease fire with the contras who had never
really ceased firing.  One hopeful sign is that a U.N. peace
keeping force will soon be in place to help monitor the borders.
     The U.S. imposed war has caused massive suffering and
economic destruction within Nicaragua.  These hardships have
eroded support from the once overwhelmingly popular Sandinistas. 
This explains the present U.S. emphasis on Nicaragua's elections. 
The U.S. is illegally supporting the political opposition in
Nicaragua with $9 million in congressionally approved funds for
the "National Endowment for Democracy."  Despite a battered
economy most polls indicate that the Sandinistas are likely to
win in February in part because the U.S. backed opposition is so
unpopular.  No election in modern history is being more carefully
observed than Nicaragua's.  Representationes from the U.N., the
Organization of American States, Western Europe, Latin America
and the U.S. are monitoring the entire electoral process as
requested by the Nicaraguan government.  My concern is that
historically the U.S. has a very poor record of accepting
electoral results it doesn't like and an even poorer record of
manipulating the electoral process in Developing World countries.  For
example, the U.S. paid candidates not to run in Nicaragua's
elections in 1984 as a way of seeking to discredit those
elections.  Please read carefully and between the lines when you
see articles about Nicaragua's elections and the U.S. concern for
"democracy" in Central America.  Isn't it ironic that we pay so
much attention to Nicaragua but somehow ignore that the U.S.-
backed "democracy" in El Salvador has killed nearly 70,000
civilians in the past ten years? 
December 1989 up-date:  While my experiences are now nearly a
year old, recent events have generally deepened and confirmed my
impressions.  Jack Nelson-Pallmeyer, fresh back from these
countries, has written a post script to bring this journal up to
date.




     Events in El Salvador and Nicaragua have continued to unfold
in the year that's passed since my trip in December of 1988.  In
many ways the impressions I've recorded in this journal have been
deepened and confirmed. Here is a brief up-date by Jack Nelson-
Pallmeyer (author of War Against the Poor and my tour guide) who
has recently returned from another trip.

Postscript El Salvador
     The far right-wing Arena party now controls both the
congress and presidency in El Salvador (see page 12). Labeled a
"fascist party" by former U.S. Ambassador, Robert White, Arena is
now receiving nearly a million and half dollars a day in U.S.
government assistance.  The Arena party has introduced but not
formally approved a legislative package that has been compare to
laws under Nazi Germany in which it would be a crime to carry
anti-government material, hold a demonstration or talk to
international human rights groups.  1989 has been a time of
escalating violence in El Salvador.  In the fall representatives
of the FMLN and the Salvadoran government began a series of peace
talks.  Unfortunately, despite widespread sentiment in El
Salvador to end the war through negotiations, peace talks failed
when the Salvadoran armed forces and death squads escalated the
violence against popular organizations.  In a two week period in
October and November bombs ripped through the Lutheran Church
(the second such bombing in 1989 and part of a widespread attack
against religious groups), the home of Ruben Zamora (a leading
opposition figure), the offices of COMADRES (the Mothers of the
Disappeared, see page 16), and the offices of a large labor
federation (this bombing killed at least 10 people and wounded
dozens more).  The FMLN in the context of failed negotiations and
increased repression launched the largest military offensive of
the war in November.  The government responded by declaring a
state of siege. Then six priests, the Jesuit leadership of the
University of Central America in San Salvador and widely
respected voices of the people and moderation, were tortured and
executed in death squad fashion. This shined a particularly
bright light on the brutality of the El Salvador military and
government, even causing many in the U.S. government to question
the wisdom of what one congressman called "our funding of this
mayhem." My impression from talking to many experienced people is
that the biggest obstacle to peace in El Salvador is the
unwillingness of the U.S. to accept a negotiated end to the
conflict.  Perhaps most disturbing, a defector from El Salvador's
1st Infantry Brigade and member of a death squad recently
testified to human rights groups that the U.S. funds and provides
psychological training for death squads in El Salvador.  As long
as millions of U.S. aid dollars flow into El Salvador the
violence will continue.

Postscript Nicaragua
     The main emphasis of the U.S. war against Nicaragua has
shifted to the elections to be held February 25, 1990.  In mid-
1989 the Central American presidents signed an accord calling for
early elections in Nicaragua and the dismantling of the U.S.
backed contras based illegally in Honduras.  In violation of this
accord the U.S. congress continued to fund the contras with so-
called humanitarian aid and then closed their eyes to ongoing
contra attacks against civilians in Nicaragua.  Continued U.S.
support for the contras could threaten Nicaragua's elections. 
After a bloody contra ambush on October 21, the Nicaraguan
government ended a cease fire with the contras who had never
really ceased firing.  One hopeful sign is that a U.N. peace
keeping force will soon be in place to help monitor the borders.
     The U.S. imposed war has caused massive suffering and
economic destruction within Nicaragua.  These hardships have
eroded support from the once overwhelmingly popular Sandinistas. 
This explains the present U.S. emphasis on Nicaragua's elections. 
The U.S. is illegally supporting the political opposition in
Nicaragua with $9 million in congressionally approved funds for
the "National Endowment for Democracy."  Despite a battered
economy most polls indicate that the Sandinistas are likely to
win in February in part because the U.S. backed opposition is so
unpopular.  No election in modern history is being more carefully
observed than Nicaragua's.  Representationes from the U.N., the
Organization of American States, Western Europe, Latin America
and the U.S. are monitoring the entire electoral process as
requested by the Nicaraguan government.  My concern is that
historically the U.S. has a very poor record of accepting
electoral results it doesn't like and an even poorer record of
manipulating the electoral process in Developing World countries.  For
example, the U.S. paid candidates not to run in Nicaragua's
elections in 1984 as a way of seeking to discredit those
elections.  Please read carefully and between the lines when you
see articles about Nicaragua's elections and the U.S. concern for
"democracy" in Central America.  Isn't it ironic that we pay so
much attention to Nicaragua but somehow ignore that the U.S.-
backed "democracy" in El Salvador has killed nearly 70,000
civilians in the past ten years?