Lessons from the Sandinista Revolution

The writer was part of a Solidarity Delegation of members of Workers World Party and the Bronx Anti-War Coalition that traveled to Nicaragua in July for a commemoration of the 45th anniversary of the victory of the Sandinista Revolution. 

A week in Nicaragua expanded my imagination in ways that decades in the United States could not. I was honored to celebrate one of the most festive times of the year in the country, during which Nicaraguans commemorate the victory of the Sandinista revolution.

Upon arrival in Managua, our trip began not with settling into our accommodations but with visits to museums and historical homes. It was here that my comrades and I learned about Augusto Nicolás Calderón Sandino, a proud Indigenous man who organized a small guerrilla insurgency that ultimately succeeded in liberating Nicaragua from U.S. occupation.

Throughout our journey onward, we encountered Sandino many times in the country, in monuments, murals and even on T-shirts. I was surprised to discover that Sandino’s revolutionary activities occurred in the 1930s, while the Sandinista revolution that overthrew the Somoza regime took place decades later, led by the Sandinista National Liberation Front (FSLN).

The Sandinista National Liberation Front being named after Sandino is but one example of how history is preserved in Nicaragua. Heroes and martyrs continue to be an integral part of Nicaraguan society, with a collective awareness of their nation’s history and the sacrifices made to secure a dignified life for future generations.

Whereas historical amnesia serves as a weapon in the U.S. to dull the masses and stifle mass mobilization against the war machine of the ruling class regime we call our government, historical preservation stands as a vital tool in Nicaragua for maintaining the values and spirit of the revolution in everyday life.

What then are the values of the revolution? What is the legacy of the Sandinista revolution? It was truly enlightening to witness a society where the people exercise so much autonomy and are as politically conscious as they are politically active. Our delegation met with union deputies, leaders of local water committees, health care professionals and other everyday working-class people holding positions of political power.

Each and every one of them was invested in uplifting the poor and alleviating poverty through the development of infrastructure and access to basic needs. While in the U.S. the fate of the people is dictated by the ruling class, Nicaragua exemplifies what genuine sovereignty, self-determination and a working-class governed society can look like.

Prioritizing people and relationships

Nicaragua also imparted valuable lessons about centering life — reclaiming our humanity and valuing people and relationships – over profit. One of the many moving experiences was our visit to the Nueva Vida Clinic, located in a modest community of Ciudad Sandino, which operates solely on donations.

Despite its limited resources, the clinic provides holistic and accessible health care services. It offers a wide range of services, from primary care to dentistry and psychiatry and conducts house visits. Healthcare workers also identify various social and health needs within the community to create specialized group programs.

For instance, the clinic developed a youth initiative aimed at addressing violence among young people and established groups for young pregnant women in response to early-age pregnancy. On the day my comrades and I visited, moms with children ranging from newborns to 3-year-olds came together for a workshop focused on their specific needs.

As someone interested in women’s health, I was eager to observe the session. One by one, mothers arrived at the outdoor patio, each balancing a baby in one hand while pulling out a chair with the other. After about 20 minutes had passed without the workshop beginning, I grew a bit impatient and asked our Nicaraguan guide, Harold, when it would start. He turned to me and replied: “It begins when everyone is here. They know not every mother is here. Some are still trickling in.”

And just like that, a switch in my brain had been flipped.

‘Shift our values toward humanity’

Reflecting on this moment, I realize how different the perception of time is in Nicaragua compared to the U.S. Not only is the general pace of life slower in Nicaragua, but interpersonal relationships take precedence, meaning time bends to these connections. Whereas, in the U.S., relationships often bend to time, because time is prioritized above our connections with one another.

This is why in New York someone on the bus will not hesitate to curse at you if you do not move out of their way at a pace they deem fast enough. Rather than acknowledging the undignified situation we all share — being packed in a bus like sardines, all the while COVID-19 is still present — the people misdirect their anger and frustrations toward one another instead of toward the fundamental structural issue.

In a society where time is money and most people barely have enough to keep their head above water, more people need to turn to their neighbors and realize the solution is in part recognizing that we each deserve a dignified life filled with love and protection and that only as a unified collective can we achieve that for each other.

At the heart of the revolution is a profound love for the people, and peace represents our victory. To glean lessons from the Nicaraguan revolution we must begin to shift our values toward humanity, respecting and loving the people and advocating for a dignified life for all. We must also address the material needs of our communities by asking what they require and how we can meet those needs. How can we empower the people to achieve autonomy in their daily lives?

Lastly, we must prioritize literacy and cultivate political and class consciousness in the U.S. Helping the people recognize the erosion of their basic rights and dignity is essential, as only through collective struggle and love can we reclaim these for our people and our land. In the words of one of the trade union deputies we met, “Don’t prepare for war, prepare for peace.”