"AN EYE FOR AN EYE MAKES THE WHOLE WORLD BLIND."
In 1984 I was living and working in a rural farming
cooperative in the north central mountains of Nicaragua. I was a student, there to learn about the
lives of people living in the midst of a revolutionary, left-leaning country
and the effects of a civil war financed, in part, by the U.S. government then led
by Ronald Reagan.
I had been at the cooperative for a few months, contributing
what I could through manual labor while I documented the lives of its
members. On this particular day, I
hitched a ride into the nearby city of Esteli – a town known for its revolutionary
zeal and the harsh battles fought there during the 1979 insurrection against
the long-time dictator Anastasio Somoza and his National Guard. I arrived in town around 10 a.m. Walking from the main highway up to the
center of town where I hoped to meet up with some other North Americans who
were working in a language and solidarity school, perhaps pick up some mail and
later have an inexpensive restaurant meal before heading back out, I came to
the town’s post office where, unusually, there was a large crowd gathered in
the lobby and spilling out into the cobblestone street. I stopped to ask what was going on, and found
that word had come that a group of 20 to 25 young postal workers who had left a
few days earlier for a week of coffee picking in the nearby mountains (a
semi-voluntary practice of public workers to assist in the recollection of the
all-important exportable and cash generating crop) had been ambushed by a group
of anti-government contra rebels
operating in the region and that most, if not all of them had been killed in the attack.
The looks of anguish and fear on the faces of the parents and family
members gathered at the post office, waiting for any scrap of information that
might deny the information, was stark and compelling.
I stayed in town throughout the rest of the day to find out
more and to see if there might be something - some little thing - that I could
do to help. By 6 p.m. the city square,
located in front of the Catholic cathedral, was overflowing with
townspeople. Dusk had descended when the
crowd parted to allow passage for a caravan of pickup trucks entering the square
- each carrying in their beds one or two makeshift coffins containing the
bodies of the young telephone workers.
Word circulated as to how they had died:
while travelling in the back of a large open bed truck along an isolated
dirt road heading toward the coffee plantation, they were attacked from the
side of the road by mortar and machine gun fire. One survivor, who lay gravely wounded by the
side of the road, reported that the attackers poured gasoline on the truck and
set it on fire. We heard that the bodies
of some of the young people had to be cut apart because they had wrapped their
arms around each other as they were burned alive.
That evening, the townspeople walked slowly through the
streets of Esteli, following the trucks as they delivered, one by one, the bodies
of the young workers to the doorsteps of their families, where a wake of
friends and neighbors would be held that evening and the following day in the
humble living rooms of their home. Many
of the townspeople participating in the procession passed silently and sadly in
a single file line through the houses of the deceased in order to pay their
respects to the family.
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I think there has been ample discussion over the years as to
the rights and wrongs committed by both sides of the Nicaragua conflict – at
the individual, political and global levels.
The repercussions of that time are still felt today and still generate
heated debate over who was at fault and what should or should not have
happened. But at the bottom line, many
more than these 20 or 25 young workers have died in equally horrific ways as a
result of the conflict – way too many a result of
unclear and flawed reasoning on both sides. As I write and share this recollection drawn
from almost 40 years ago, I wonder what more suffering will be brought about by
other wars fueled by politics, greed, avarice and other types of unclear and
flawed reasoning.
Bill, where do I subscribe to your blog?
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