In a move that can only be described as the ultimate prison break, indigenous leader Lumberto Campbell has shuffled off this mortal coil after three years of Daniel Ortega's 'hospitality' at the El Chipote state prison. The Miskito leader, who had been held without trial for the grievous crime of existing and wanting his people's land back, reportedly died of 'complications arising from the Ortega administration's signature policy of neglect and abuse.'
Let us pause to reflect on the tragicomedy of a government that calls itself revolutionary yet treats its indigenous population like uninvited guests at a Sandinista dinner party. Campbell, you see, had the audacity to demand recognition of ancestral lands and the right to self-governance. In Nicaragua, this is apparently equivalent to smuggling bananas into a socialist paradise.
Ortega's government, with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, has been systematically dismantling any opposition since the 2018 protests. Campbell's death is merely the latest exhibit in the museum of state-sponsored atrocities. But do not expect any tears from the international community. Oh no. The same lot who tut at Myanmar's Rohingya crisis and cluck their tongues at China's Uyghur camps will likely offer a mild 'how unfortunate' and return to their avocados and fair-trade coffee.
The Miskito people, God bless them, had the temerity to think that a century of exploitation from various governments might end with Ortega's promise of 'participatory democracy.' Instead, they got the same old story: land grabs, broken promises, and now a dead leader. One can only hope Campbell's spirit will now haunt the presidential palace in Managua, perhaps rattling chains during Ortega's midnight snack sessions.
In the grand theatre of global affairs, Nicaragua is but a minor stage, a provincial production of tyranny that hardly merits a standing ovation. But for the indigenous peoples of the Caribbean coast, this is their reality, a never-ending cycle of oppression that would be tragic if it weren't so absurdly predictable.
Rest in power, Lumberto Campbell. Your fight is over, but the struggle continues, immortalised in the annals of hypernormalised state violence. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need another gin. This one's on Ortega.
