Nicaragua Coping with The Contras

By Jill Smolowe

Sunrise was more than an hour off, and most of Managua was still asleep when the bombs exploded. "The earth moved," recalled Sergio Cano, a laborer. "We thought the gringos had started bombing." The blast in the Nicaraguan capital signaled neither an earthquake nor an armed invasion from the north but an unusually bold contra attack on an electrical tower. While residents slumbered in the dusty neighborhood of Domitila Lugo, rebels had scaled the high-voltage pylon and placed explosives on the metal crossbars. The explosion shattered windows and broke dishes in nearby homes, but no one was hurt. Indeed, electrical service was not even interrupted, and the tower remained standing.

Still, it was the first time in more than four years that the contras had struck at a target within the city limits. Muffed though it was, the attack delivered a warning that complemented the stepped-up rebel activity in the Nicaraguan countryside: the contras' urban offensive seemed to have begun. Sandinista officials promptly blamed the Reagan Administration. Trumpeted a banner headline in the daily party organ, Barricada: IT COULD HAVE BEEN A MASSACRE. In Washington, officials had quite a different reaction to the bungled strike. "They went all that way, got the charge wired in, then they screwed it up," moaned an Administration official. "These guys are like the gang that couldn't shoot straight."

Two days later the U.S. Senate, by a vote of 52 to 48, narrowly defeated an attempt to cut off the $40 million remaining of a $100 million aid package appropriated to the contras last year. "This is no Administration victory," warned Majority Leader Robert Byrd. "This is an alarm bell." Coming one week after an anti-contra House vote on the $40 million, the close Senate vote reaffirmed that Congress is in no mood to humor President Reagan by approving more money for the rebels. The Administration had been cautiously planning to stall until next fall on its request for $105 million in new contra aid. Last week, however, U.S. officials said the rebels will need additional funding well before then. The Administration plans to push for new appropriations before the summer recess.

At this point it is difficult to imagine a successful outcome for the Reagan Administration. The contras have yet to make an impressive military showing, have managed to pile up a dispiriting record of human rights abuses, and have earned a reputation for internal squabbling. Last week Congress found new cause for concern in reports that the CIA is providing the contras with detailed information on targets inside Nicaragua, including maps and blueprints of bridges, dams and other facilities built by U.S. agencies in the 1960s and 1970s. Legislators may find such involvement perilously close to the kind of CIA activities that led to a cutoff of congressional funds in 1984, after U.S. agents mined a Nicaraguan harbor.

Ironically, Congress seems to be running out of patience with the contras just as the rebels are finally beginning to look like a fighting force. By the Sandinistas' own count, the rebels have infiltrated 5,000 men into Nicaragua (the contras claim closer to 7,000) since U.S. aid began flowing again last October. Freshly armed and newly trained, the rebels are currently keeping some 60,000 Sandinista soldiers engaged in the northern and central departments. Statistics kept by the Sandinista People's Army allege that rebels and government troops clashed 330 times during a recent five-week period, taking the lives of 71 soldiers, 358 contras and 15 civilians.

Nicaragua's comandantes believe the army can readily handle the military threat posed by the contras. "We expect we will have mercenaries in Nicaragua for a long time, but we have made many advances in cutting their social base," President Daniel Ortega Saavedra recently told TIME. "They are now a weakened, reduced force." The President's younger brother, General Humberto Ortega Saavedra, the Defense Minister and an increasingly visible member of the Sandinista directorate, concurs. Of last week's attack in Managua, he says, "They have moved to this kind of activity because they have no political program. But this erodes their credibility. They can wear us out, but they will not take power."

Such statements reflect a new confidence on the part of the Sandinista leadership. Until now it has been standard practice to downplay rebel attacks, so as not to enhance the contras' standing inside Nicaragua. The admissions that contra disruptions are taking place suggest the comandantes no longer feel intimidated either by the rebels or, for that matter, by the Reagan Administration. For years the comandantes steadfastly denied that they paid attention to Washington's every move. Now they are less bashful. President Ortega, for instance, candidly admits that he watches U.S. television newscasts daily, and has followed the Iran-contra scandal closely.

For the people of Nicaragua, however, there is little cause for optimism at the moment. The five-year war effort has badly battered the economy. As much as 60% of the country's budget is now committed to defense, and the remaining funds are sorely mismanaged through a combination of inexperience, corruption and political rivalries. Last year, as runaway inflation neared the 800% mark, wages remained frozen, making it virtually impossible for workers to live on their take-home pay. Government bureaucrats at the clerical and technical - levels make an average of about $20 monthly. Not surprisingly, such conditions have given rise to a thriving black market.

As the official economy has virtually ground to a halt, the illegal underground economy has boomed. Isidoro Lopez (not his real name), a mechanic by trade, moonlights on weekends as a smuggler. Most Saturdays he sets out from his home in Managua and drives northeast to Tierra Azul, at the war-torn center of the country. On the way out, his Fiat station wagon is jammed with plastic cups, batteries, kerosene, cigarettes and other contraband found in local markets. On the way back, the load includes hens, beef and lard. In Managua, where meat and eggs are all but impossible to find, he makes a healthy profit. If Lopez were caught, he would face fines and a prison term. But patrolling soldiers either look the other way or buy illegal goods from him. Under normal circumstances, Lopez considers himself a law-abiding citizen. But he is also a husband and father. "You have to defend yourself," he says. "Otherwise, you're sunk."

More distressing to Sandinista officials is the rise in corruption. Last year, for example, at least $100,000 in medical equipment and supplies, including microscopes, hospital sheets and prescription drugs, was stolen from the national health system by employees and patients. A typical ploy is to feign illness, procure medicine, then sell it on the black market. "It is wrong, but we all do it," says a medical technician in the western city of Leon. "There is no way someone can live on $8 a month."

The wounds of war are not only economic. To destroy the contras' support in the countryside, the government has resettled thousands of peasants since 1984. Residents in the southeastern Nueva Guinea area have been particularly hard hit lately. The government admits to having resettled 500 families since mid-January but claims that the continuing exodus is voluntary. Some say Nueva Guinea has become a region of nomads.

The war effort and an ongoing state of emergency declared by the Sandinistas have meant increasing repression for the Roman Catholic Church and the internal political opposition. Erick Ramirez, president of the Social Christian Party, was briefly jailed last January for organizing the families of political prisoners. Ramirez faults the war for the crackdown on civil liberties. "Without the counterrevolution," he says, "the government would have no excuse to bother us." A high-ranking church official is less forgiving. Says he: "If the contras are eliminated, life will be much worse for us here."

In recent weeks the Sandinistas have renewed their peace offensive. After initially rejecting a regional peace plan put forward by Costa Rican President Oscar Arias Sanchez, the Sandinistas have tentatively signaled their interest. The reason for the change of heart is not clear, but it undoubtedly does not hurt that the draft plan has dropped the repeated U.S. demand that the Sandinistas negotiate directly with contra leaders. In May President Ortega will join four other Central American Presidents in Guatemala to discuss the proposal. Although the U.S. Senate has endorsed the thrust of the plan, the Sandinistas do not expect a cease-fire anytime soon. That, they believe, will be possible only after Ronald Reagan leaves office.

With reporting by Ricardo Chavira/Washington and Laura Lopez/Managua