On Latin America’s totalitarian states: Nicaragua, Venezuela, and Cuba
Editor’s Note: In the current issue of National Review, we have a piece by Jay Nordlinger called “Latin America: A Brisk Political Tour.” This week, Mr. Nordlinger elaborates in a series.
When people say “Latin America,” they mean different things. Mainly they mean the 30 or so countries that stretch from Mexico down to Tierra del Fuego — not forgetting assorted islands in the Caribbean. Latin America runs from Mexico, southeast through Central America, and downward through South America. Tierra del Fuego is not very far from Antarctica. Those Caribbean countries, east of Mexico, include the Dominican Republic and Haiti (which share the island Hispaniola). “Latin American” does not necessarily mean “Spanish-speaking,” although usually it does.
The biggest country in Latin America — in both area and population — is Portuguese-speaking, namely Brazil.
Among these 30 or so countries, there is great political variety. Consider Nicaragua and Costa Rica. They are neighbors, in Central America. Costa Rica is a model of democratic stability, pretty much. Nicaragua is an outright totalitarian state. Some 300,000 Nicaraguans have crossed the border into Costa Rica for refuge.
• Nicaragua’s dictator, Daniel Ortega, has abolished civil society and independent media. He has made good on Mussolini’s slogan “All within the state, nothing outside the state, nothing against the state.” He is backed to the hilt by Russia, China, and Cuba — also Iran, North Korea, etc. Recently, he changed the constitution to make his wife, Rosario Murillo, “co-president” with him. They are not unlike Nicolae and Elena Ceaușescu in Communist Romania.
Jiang Qing, Mao’s wife, referred to herself as her husband’s “co-fighter.” (She did this in her suicide note.) The Ceaușescus were co-fighters, and co-rulers. So are Ortega and Murillo.
Félix Maradiaga is a Nicaraguan democracy leader and former political prisoner. He is now living in exile. Two years ago, I wrote about him: here. I have now asked him for a statement on the current situation. Here it is:
Nicaragua has crossed the final threshold into totalitarianism. The Ortega-Murillo regime has imposed a new constitution that abolishes the separation of powers, dissolves democratic institutions, and cements their rule indefinitely. Even more alarming, it mandates that all political parties and other groups explicitly “defend the revolution,” erasing any legal space for opposition and pushing Nicaragua toward a one-party dictatorship modeled on North Korea.
Repression now extends beyond persecution — it is erasure. While 435 Nicaraguans have been officially stripped of their nationality, thousands more are effectively stateless as the regime revokes passports and denies reentry to exiles, including those who have legally settled abroad under humanitarian parole. For many, there is no way home without arrest.
Ortega, increasingly isolated from the West, has doubled down on alliances with Russia and China. Moscow is expanding its military footprint in Nicaragua, while Beijing bankrolls Ortega’s control through secretive deals that serve the dictatorship, not the people.
This is no longer just a brutal regime — it is a state-engineered prison. The rule of law is dead, personal loyalty to Ortega is now a matter of constitutional obligation, and even exile is problematic. Nicaragua stands as a stark warning to the world: when a dictatorship is left unchecked, it does not just endure — it metastasizes.
• On January 10 of this year, Daniel Ortega attended an inauguration in Caracas — that of Nicolás Maduro, who seized a third “term” as “president” of Venezuela. That country is another totalitarian state. It, too, is backed to the hilt by Russia, China, Cuba, and the rest.
Maduro succeeded Hugo Chávez, after whom chavismo is named. It is a type of left-wing populism — a very hard type. In a 2020 interview with me, Enrique Krauze, the Mexican historian, said that Chávez and chavismo led to “the most gruesome and terrible human disaster in Latin American history.” Almost 8 million people have fled Venezuela (forming a vast diaspora). The country has been reduced to starvation. An article from Reuters last July was headed, “In Venezuela, hunger stalks presidential election.”
The main opposition candidate, María Corina Machado, was banned from running. So, the leadership of the opposition fell to Edmundo González, a retired diplomat in his 70s. On Election Day, July 28, he won by a wide margin, according to international observers. That was of no concern to Maduro, who simply declared victory. He also issued a warrant for González’s arrest — whereupon González, the people’s choice, fled to Spain.
González vowed that he would return on Inauguration Day, January 10, to assume his rightful position. He would have been arrested on the spot, possibly killed. Instead, he made a tour of his allies, including the United States. He met with President Biden in the Oval Office. In Caracas, Maduro made sport of him, saying, “I’m waiting for him to arrive. I’m nervous.”
Meanwhile, González’s son-in-law was kidnapped in Caracas by masked men while taking his children to school. His whereabouts, at this writing, are unknown.
• Pause for a moment to consider a question: Why do dictators — many, not all — bother staging elections? They must crave, somewhere, a patina of legitimacy. Maduro does. Putin does. Lukashenko does. General Sisi does. (In 2018, he handpicked his opponent, who endorsed him. Sisi squeaked through with 98 percent of the vote.)
Say this for Communist Cuba: The rulers don’t have much time for charades.
• Only two heads of state attended Nicolás Maduro’s inauguration in January: Daniel Ortega and Miguel Díaz-Canel, the No. 1 in Cuba. Or is the No. 1 still Raúl Castro, at age 93? He formally passed the reins to Díaz-Canel in 2021 — having had those reins passed to him by his brother Fidel in 2008. Raúl is retired, officially. But his children and grandchildren are entrenched in the regime, and he is said to preside over national affairs as an éminence grise.
Fidel Castro and his movement seized power on January 1, 1959. For decades, there has been a question: Can the regime survive beyond personal rule by the Castros? We may have our answer soon.
Rosa María Payá is a Cuban democracy leader, like her father before her: Oswaldo Payá, who was killed in a car crash in 2012, along with a young colleague, Harold Cepero. The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights — an autonomous branch of the Organization of American States — conducted an investigation. It found that “there is serious and sufficient evidence to conclude that State agents participated in the death of Mr. Payá and Mr. Cepero.”
I have asked Ms. Payá, “Does the grip of the dictatorship seem as tight as ever?” This is her answer, in part:
In terms of brute force and repression, the grip of the dictatorship in Cuba is as tight as ever. The regime has intensified its control through evil levels of repression over the past three years. However, its legitimacy is at an all-time low. The Cuban people have expressed their rejection in widespread and continual protests.
Is it clear, now, that the dictatorship will outlast the Castros? Ms. Payá:
Cuba’s situation is virtually unsustainable. The regime is unable, and unwilling, to provide essential services or address the growing wave of crime. Most of the country survives on barely four hours of electricity a day. Schools have been forced to close owing to lack of food and power. Hospitals are in ruins. Extreme poverty reached almost 90 percent last year, leaving many families literally starving.
The Castro family, including Raúl’s children and grandchildren, remains at the top of the power structure, working to preserve control over Cuba’s military-run business empire even after Raúl is gone. This conglomerate holds billions of dollars in foreign banks, wealth extracted from the Cuban people through corruption and criminal activities worldwide. This military elite behind the regime will attempt to maintain power likely by morphing into an even more mafia-like corporate-military state.
At the same time, the dictatorship is at its weakest point, thanks to continued civic mobilization, its own inability to provide basic security and services, and the presence of an opposition with a clear path to a peaceful transition.
The conditions for democratic change are in place, if Western democracies choose to support the Cuban people and pressure the ruling elite.
So, those are the three totalitarian states in Latin America: Cuba, Nicaragua, and Venezuela. In Part II of our series, tomorrow, we will move to greener, more democratic pastures.
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