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The biography I've written of Carlos Fonseca, the founder of
the Sandinista National Liberation Front (FSLN), that led the 1979
Nicaragua revolution.
It was published by Duke
University Press in 2001 and is coming out in Spanish in the
first half of 2003. You can buy it at your local bookstore, from
amazon.com,
or any online bookseller. |
R E V I E W S

Detail of Carlos Fonseca, Che Guevara and Augusto
Sandino in the mural
The Birth of the New Man by the Boanerges Cerrato Collective.
Managua, Batahola Community Center.
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American Historical Review, 107:4,
October 2002
Scholarship that examined the Sandinista Revolution was once voluminous.
During the mid-1980s, in the aftermath of Anastasio Somoza Debayle's
collapse and the ensuing Contra war, substantial attention was paid
to the root causes of the revolution, the ideological framework
of the Sandinistas, and America's role in the revolutionary process.
Historians from Richard Millett to Thomas W. Walker contributed
to a significant body of work. With the passage of time, however,
academic attention diminished, almost mirroring the declining fortunes
of the Sandinistas in Nicaragua over the past decade. Important
work continued nonetheless, with studies such as Mark Everingham's
Revolution and the Multiclass Coalition in Nicaragua (1996) that
explored unrecognized facets of the Nicaraguan conflict.
Matilde Zimmermann's book revisits the foundations of the Sardinista
National Liberation Front (FSLN) by examining the life and times
of the person most responsible for its creation and survival. Zimmermann's
use of biography as history has been attempted many times by historians
interested in the Somoza family. However, her work stands in sharp
contrast to these efforts in being the first sustained effort in
the English language to discuss Carlos Fonseca Amador not simply
as a revolutionary ideologue but as a Nicaraguan reacting to his
own life and times.
Zimmermann's goal is to demonstrate that much of Fonseca's life
served as a template for his ideology. Key personal moments are
placed in parallel to significant historical events throughout the
work. As a young boy, Fonseca experienced a world "dominated
by sharp and sometimes violent contrasts" (p. 12), an upbringing
that applied to his own relative poverty, politics, and understanding
of the Nicaraguan people as well as his later attitudes toward women
and monogamy. Mother-child metaphors populated his later writings.
As a student, Fonseca was transfixed by Soviet Communism during
a 1957 visit to Moscow. As a young revolutionary in the 1960s, he
struggled with his cohort of guerrilla revolutionaries to overcome
inexperience and ignorance of rural Nicaragua while translating
Sandinista ideology into a workable doctrine.
Zimmermann does not allow herself completely to reduce historical
causation to biography. She is careful to qualify her narrative
by pointing to issues that transcended Fonseca's life. His break
with the Nicaraguan Socialist Party and endorsement of armed revolution,
she argues, was not the product of youthful impatience with the
progress of the anti-Somoza opposition but a reflection of the larger
Nicaraguan political culture that had already embraced violence
as a legitimate revolutionary method.
One of the most interesting issues discussed in the book is the
evolution of the Sandinista Revolution as a distinct social movement
within its leadership. Zimmermann's narrative illustrates a self-contained
group of men and women whose lives were shaped by the mountains,
barrios, safehouses, and prisons of Nicaragua. The dictates of survival
created within this group a circumspection that became second nature.
Conversely, the close proximity their quarters demanded also mandated
a degree of intimacy. This was especially true for Sandinista women,
who existed within the sometimes awkward confines of Nicaraguan
machismo, Marxist ideology, and Fonseca's own puritanical approach
to gender.
The true value of the book is its ability to humanize a revolutionary
icon and explain the process that eventually transformed Fonseca
into a Sandinista martyr. Zimmermann has adopted an almost forensic
approach to Fonseca's lifetime of writing, utilizing an impressive
collection of work that stretches back to his student days in the
early 1950s. The author's extensive use of interviews establishes
an important counterbalance to Fonseca's evolving mental blueprint
for a post-Somoza Nicaragua. Childhood neighbors, political associates,
and friends accompany more important figures such as Ernesto Cardenal
and Fonseca's wife María Haydée Terán to flesh
out the biographical picture and offer important contextual information
regarding the roots of Fonseca's ideology. Further bolstering this
body of work is an unprecedented array of documents drawn from the
Nicaraguan National Guard and the Office of National Security, institutions
that monitored Fonseca's activities for more than two decades.
Taken as a whole, this book represents some of the best scholarship
produced on the Nicaraguan Revolution in the past decade. Zimmermann's
ability to transcend existing standards of research and analysis
has raised the bar for future historians interested in understanding
a pivotal event in modern Central American history. Similarly, Zimmermann's
aptitude in dissecting Fonseca himself marks the book as a standard
for historical biography as well.
Michael D. Gambone
Kutztown University
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Hispanic America Historical Review, 82:2, May 2002
During the mid-1980s, while doing research for my dissertation
in northwestern Nicaragua, I became increasingly skeptical of Sandinista
rhetoric. The use of imperial aggression as an excuse for the flaws,
failures, and excesses of the government was rapidly turning anti-imperialism
from a righteous cry against the obscenity of U.S. policy into the
butt of popular humor. Similarly, Comité de Defensa Sandinista
meetings typically ended with the phrase "Dirección
Nacional ordene." To my ears, nurtured in the antiauthoritarian
ethos of the New Left, those words were deeply disturbing. The phrase,
"Carlos Fonseca, presente!" also punctuated many rallies.
Curiously, the figure of Carlos Fonseca resonated somewhat ambiguously
with me and apparently with many others not directly tied to the
Frente Sandinista de la Liberación Nacional. The anti-Sandinistas
had a much harder time attacking the martyr Fonseca than they did
with the all too human targets in the Sandinista leadership. I remember
wondering how Fonseca would have viewed the depressing march of
this revolution under siege. I had no clue because other than a
few scattered writings on Sandino, Fonseca remained an enigmatic
figure, obscured by Sandinista hagiography.
Matilde Zimmerman's masterful political biography, Sandinista:
Carlos Fonseca and the Sandinista Revolution,goes a long way toward
satisfying our need to know about the life and ideas of this twentieth-century
Latin American revolutionary and about his decisive impact on the
FSLN. The book follows a traditional approach to biography, yet
successfully relates Fonseca's life to the larger unfolding of the
revolutionary process. Zimmerman achieves a convincing portrait
of Fonseca as an individual and as a revolutionary thinker and actor.
Fonseca, like his hero, Augusto César Sandino, was born
out of wedlock to a domestic servant. In both cases, the extreme
deprivation of early childhood was mitigated by the wealthy father's
recognition combined with a limited degree of financial support.
Breaking with traditional Sandinista scholarship, Zimmerman points
out that Fonseca's relation with his wealthy Somocista father was
an ambivalent one. The author shies away from probing more deeply
into those familial relations and their impact on Fonseca's early
radicalism or on his revolutionary asceticism. Although this is
understandable, given the adult-years focus of the book, I am still
hopeful that historians will take the challenge of understanding
the political and social impact of the hijos por fuera that dot
the urban and rural landscapes of twentieth-century Central America.
Fonseca's radicalization process was not unusual. He went rapidly
from anti-Somocista activist in high school to Partido Socialista
Nicaraguense (PSN: pro-Moscow communist party) militant in the university.
Immediately following the Cuban Revolution, he joined a guerrilla
group that the National Guard soundly defeated in a battle in which
Fonseca was seriously wounded. During his exile in Cuba, Fonseca
distanced himself from the political positions of the PSN, rejecting
their two-stage conception of revolution that emphasized alliances
with bourgeois parties and their opposition to armed struggle. Within
three years, he would become a founding member of the Frente Sandinista,
a political-military organization that immediately launched a doomed
guerrilla movement. Throughout the 1960s (with the exception of
two years of semilegal political work) Fonseca and his extremely
small group of youthful revolutionaries either organized guerrilla
movements that failed, recruited clandestinely for future action,
or endured prison. And they argued over strategy and tactics. One
of the most crucial contributions of this biography is Zimmerman's
analysis of Fonseca's role as this microscopic movement split into
three factions. Uncovering new archival sources, Zimmerman demonstrates
that Fonseca had a real grasp of the reasons for the split and fully
addressed the weaknesses in each factional position. Yet, following
his death in combat in 1976, the factional conflict became significantly
worse.
Until his death, the divided FSLN never had more than a few dozen
members inside Nicaragua. In 1976, Fonseca resembled many other
Latin American revolutionaries inspired by the success of Cuban
Revolution, disgusted with reformist politicians marxist or otherwise,
and ready to create "One, two many Vietnams." Had the
Sandinistas not triumphed in 1979, Fonseca would have simply joined
the pantheon of unsuccessful revolutionary martyrs, such as Yon
Sosa in Guatemala or Camilo Torres in Colombia. The reasons for
their triumph, which Zimmerman ably recounts, include the history
and constancy of this small revolutionary group guided by Fonseca.
She shows how the Frente was largely responsible for provoking the
revolutionary crisis in 1978. Moreover, she substantiates the interpretation
that highlights the revolutionary group as the only political/military
organization available for leadership, recognized by the growing
masses of rebels and their supporters as uncompromising fighters
against the regime.
The epilogue is somewhat polemical. There is no space to enter
into a discussion about the failure of the Nicaraguan Revolution.
Zimmerman argues convincingly that the Sandinistas' betrayal of
the thought and (uncorruptable) personal style of Fonseca helped
cause the demise of the revolution. Yet her argument that the revolution
did not rely sufficiently on the Cuban experience is questionable.
Indeed, given the backwardness and uneven development of Nicaraguan
society, a popular revolution would have made gigantic strides had
it instituted a radical redistribution of the land to individual
peasants, permitted unfettered development of unions and other popular
forms of organizations and called for early democratic elections.
That such a program might have been, in part, antithetical to Carlos
Fonseca's perspective forces us to confront the historical limitations
of national/ popular revolutions and revolutionaries of the 1960s-80s.
Such a revolutionary program would have run into much difficulty
but it might have resulted in more tangible improvements for the
Nicaraguan popular classes and better equipped them to deal with
the grim realities of underdevelopment in a globalized world that
always seems to have more pressing concerns. This difference of
interpretation, however, should not obscure Zimmerman's achievement.
This is a fine biography of an important revolutionary thinker and
actor.
Jeffrey L. Gould
Indiana University
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The Americas, 59:1, July 2002
This fine biography of Carlos Fonseca Amador, founder of the Sandinista
Front for National Liberation (FSLN), recreates the origins of a
revolutionary organization whose project has been defeated, whose
reputation has been tarnished, and whose Utopia has dissolved into
the prosaic local administration of global capitalism that seems
the only post-Cold War possibility for the Latin American nation-state.
In his recent memoir, Sergio Ramírez, once vice president
of revolutionary Nicaragua, declares that intellectuals have done
the revolution a grave historical injustice by so quickly forgetting
about Sandinista Nicaragua. Matilde Zimmermann's book proves his
point, showing that a fresh analysis of the Nicaraguan experience
can illuminate questions central to the emerging social history
of the Latin American Left in the second half of the twentieth century.
In the process, she tells a life story that is, like the larger
story of the revolutionary Left itself, as compelling and admirable
as it is melancholy and pathetic.
Along with published materials, Zimmermann bases her biography
on the Fonseca dossier at the Nicaraguan military archives, much
of it built up over twenty years by Somocista military intelligence,
and she shades in the portrait using interviews with Fonseca's family,
friends, and fellow revolutionists. Even so, Fonseca remains rather
elusive, in large part because he spent virtually his entire adult
life in hiding or in exile, devoting himself to intense study, endless
political debate, and micro-management of operational detail. Rather
than produce a volume that would have been as slim as Fonseca himself,
Zimmermann quite legitimately turns the story of Fonseca into the
story of the FSLN as an organization, legitimately because during
Fonseca's lifetime it rarely numbered more than a hundred militants,
and its condition could always be diagnosed in terms of the state
of Fonseca himself.
Besides founding it, Fonseca made two major contributions to the
Sandinista Front. Best known is his tireless retrieval of information
about Augusto Sandino, which he then wove into FSLN literature and
doctrine. This proved vitally important for two reasons. It gave
the FSLN cadre the romantic nationalist and pan-Latin Americanist
idiom of Sandino which, along with the myth of Ché-Cuba-Fidel,
infused their generic Marxist-Leninism with historical depth and
legendary power. Perhaps most importantly for the FSLN's fortunes
in the eventful years after Fonseca's death, his relentless raising
of Sandino's ghost insured that "Sandino", whether word
or image, was essentially "copyright FSLN" by the time
the insurrectionary masses needed an instant symbolism of resistance
in 1978-79. No would-be vanguard party riding a series of spontaneous
social rebellions could have asked for a better way of registering
their authority over events.
Fonseca's second great contribution, brought out very effectively
by Zimmermann, was the ascetic intensity that was so alluring to
young militants, and seemed sufficient to maintain the unity of
the organization during long periods of underground existence and
near total political irrelevance. Indeed, Zimmermann's study shows
that the first organic association the FSLN had with a successful
popular mobilization was the solidarity movement that grew up in
the late 1960s to demand that the dictatorship respect the rights
of jailed FSLN activists (including Fonseca) who had been arrested
for largely adventurist guerrilla acts that had no ties to any popular
struggle. Besides these, Fonseca's revolutionary achievements are
hard to measure, precisely because he spent so much of his life
rendered relatively ineffective by a notoriety that constrained
his movements and left him rather stranded in Cuba.
Zimmermann recreates a vivid picture of the awful final days of
Fonseca. In 1975 he returned to Nicaragua to mend the rift between
the FSLN's three factions, and to re-validate his leadership. He
entered the jungle in March 1976. His eyesight so deteriorated that
he was essentially blind; his tactical judgment was so dubious that
it made him a hazard to the young militants who led him by the hand
along jungle trails (and who were mostly killed in short order).
Fonseca died, probably wounded in a fire-fight and then executed
in cold blood, on his way to a jungle "summit meeting"
he had delusionally called with the intention of bringing together
all the leaders of the factions. Fortunately for the future of the
FSLN, the leaders did not take Fonseca seriously enough to attend.
Had they obeyed his orders they, too, would likely have been cut
down by a National Guard operation of unprecedented size, directed
by US advisors, which had been deployed to eliminate the FSLN foco
which Fonseca had joined. This is the pathos of Ché Guevara's
last days without the tragedy. And indeed, in many respects Zimmermann's
book offers us a portrait of the other pole, the "anti-Ché,"
of the Latin American revolutionary: ascetic, compassionate, courageous
and totally committed, yes; but awkward, plodding, and short on
charisma, humor, and luck.
Sandinista is full of pioneering forays into a new social history
of the Left in Latin America. Zimmermann explores the emergence
of prison literature as a genre of revolutionary writing. She offers
suggestive treatments of the culture of clandestinity and the social
history of the safe-house (including the daily gender politics played
out over the legitimacy and role of women's participation in revolutionary
organizations). She subtly outlines the tensions that arose between
militants suffering extreme danger and deprivation underground in
Nicaragua and the exiled leadership enjoying the freedom, stimulation
and revolutionary glamour of Havana. Her portrait of Fonseca reveals
the ultra-conservative mores that, ironically, undergirded the self-discipline
and commitment of revolutionaries like Fonseca, while making him
something of a lovable, "square" father-figure to the
"New Left" militants who started to rejuvenate the organization
in the late 1960s and early 1970s.
Armed Left-wing revolutionary movements in Latin America are now
essentially historical artefacts. For this very reason, the significance
of the Nicaraguan revolution will grow rather than fade, since the
FSLN will almost certainly go down in history as the only group
of revolutionaries in the hemisphere who were able to reproduce
the Cuban road to state power and social transformation. Zimmermann's
biography of Fonseca tells us a great deal about how the organization
survived long enough to get the chance to do so. The suggestion
that the FSLN leadership would not have "sold out" the
Nicaraguan revolution had Fonseca remained alive is as questionable
as it is moot (one might just as legitimately suggest that the FSLN
would not have been able to lead the revolution had Fonseca remained
alive), though the author's intriguing reflection that the popular
sectors' faith in Fonseca's particular revolutionary vision outlasted
the Sandinista government's use of him as a Marxist-Leninist martyr
perhaps warrants an empirical study.
Steven Palmer
University of Windsor
Windsor, Ontario
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