After The Revolution: The Sandinistas

At Sandinista headquarters, as the uneasy rumors of defeat hardened into certainty, several party officials violated the election-day ban on alcohol and generously sampled rum. On the other side of Managua, it was well past midnight before Violeta Barrios de Chamorro was finally convinced of her upset victory. As the news sank in, Chamorro's perpetually smiling face clouded with worry. Would the Sandinistas accept the people's verdict? Rising from her wheelchair and perching carefully to favor her right knee, broken in a fall in January, Chamorro gestured for silence among the 100 people gathered in her spacious living room. Then she began reciting the Hail Mary. "God bless Nicaragua," she concluded, her voice choked with emotion.

A moment later, former U.S. President Jimmy Carter arrived with word that President Daniel Ortega Saavedra was willing to concede defeat. Was Dona Violeta prepared to claim victory? "Si," quickly answered Virgilio Godoy, her assertive running mate. For an embarrassing moment, Chamorro stared at Godoy. Then she replied, "I am ready."

After Chamorro's decisive showing, winning 55% of the vote to Ortega's 41%, claiming victory was the easy part. A harder question is whether the politically unseasoned Chamorro, 60, is prepared to guide bankrupt Nicaragua through the difficult transition from a revolutionary state to a functioning multiparty democracy. The answer will hinge largely on whether the Sandinistas live up to their promises to relinquish power peacefully after ten years of rule largely by proclamation, military muscle and caprice. Given Nicaragua's history of never managing a change of government without bloodshed, the odds seem stacked against Chamorro. Adding to her problems is the fractious 14- party coalition, ranging ideologically from conservative to Communist, that the President-elect heads. The parties' glue, a common antipathy toward the Sandinistas, may not be strong enough to keep them together. Chamorro must also ensure the retirement of the 15,000 U.S.-backed contras if she hopes to restore peace.

Wisely, Chamorro's first impulse was to strike a note of reconciliation. "There were no winners or losers in these elections," she told Ortega when the two met at her home the evening after the vote. Chamorro pressed a similar message in her victory speech. "This is an election that will never have exiles or political prisoners or confiscations," she said. Initially Ortega added to the aura of reconciliation with a graciousness that impressed even his harshest critics. In his concession statement, he hailed the "clean and pure electoral process" and pledged to "respect and obey the popular mandate."

But as the first shock of the Sandinista defeat wore off, Nicaragua's fault lines reemerged. Within a day of the elections, scattered incidents of violence erupted in Managua and rural towns as Chamorro and Ortega supporters clashed. By Tuesday Ortega was sounding like his usual defiant self. At a public rally, he roared, "They want the government. We give it to them. We will rule from below." A peaceful transition, he cautioned, required the immediate demobilization of the contras. Warning that "the change of government by no means signifies the end of the revolution," Ortega was deliberately vague about the future role of the 70,000-strong army and the untold number of Interior Ministry security forces.