A Compilation of Various Historians Views on Nicaragua's Miskitu Caribbean Coast. Accepted by Directors of the RCCN Native to Nicaragua & Aware of Firsthand Knowledge that would Accredit the Information Below:

RECOMMENDED READINGS: Author: Jane Freeman Book Title & Info: "A Special Place in History: The Atlantic Coast in the Nicaraguan Revolution." Nicaragua Solidarity Campaign, London: 1988. ISBN 1 869880 01 3 Author: Edmund T. Gordon Book Title & Info: "Disparate Diasporas; Identity and Politics in an African-Nicaraguan Community." University of Texas Press: August 1998. ISBN: 0292728190

Breifs From: 'Autonomy and the Miskito Indian Community of Nicaragua'

  An Article By : Penelope Andrews http://www.austlii.edu.au/au/journals/AboriginalLB/1988/31.html 

A Breif History:

The Atlantic Coast comprises half the land mass of Nicaragua. Tensions between the country's two main regions (the Pacific and Atlantic coasts) have their origins in the 17th and 18th centuries when the Miskitos allied themselves with the British to defend against incursions by the Spanish. Both parties saw the alliance as expedient: the British to protect their commercial domination of the Caribbean region; and the Miskitos sought protection from the British against the ravages of Spanish imperialism.

The British secured their position in this alliance by entrenching the position of the Miskito monarchy and for several decades a line of Miskito kings, educated in England and loyal to the British crown, served British interests on the Atlantic coast. Britain supplied the Miskitos with arms and ammunition; all the while the resistance of the indigenous peoples was channelled against Spanish colonialism in favor of British interests. At the same time the seeds of distrust and prejudice against the Pacific coast, which was to linger for several decades, was being sown.

In 1838 Nicaragua gained its independence and in 1860 the Treaty of Managua was signed between Britian and the new republic. This effectively meant that the Atlantic region came under the sovereignty of the government of Managua. The area was designated a Miskito reserve and the Miskito King retained the authority to grant land tides. In 1894 the Miskito reserve was abolished and the Atlantic coast incorporated fully into Nicaragua.

Between the late 1890's and the early 1900's, United States companies obtained permission from the Miskito king (who still had the authority to grant land titles) for the expansion of banana plantations throughout the Atlantic Coast region. This heralded the beginnings of United States economic and political involvement, which soon came to dominate not only the region, but Nicaragua itself. In fact, as an insignia to their intentions, the United States Marines invaded Nicaragua in 1912 and remained there on and off until the Somoza dynasty came to power in 1936.

Over the succeeding decades, United States companies and the Somoza families business interests plundered the region's natural resources, which involved massive quantities of gold, silver, lumber and seafood. Resistance to the pillage was met with brutality (on the part of Somoza's agents) or co-option (access to United States goods and relatively high wages) and United States cultural values were reinforced by missionaries and the intense campaign provided by the Alliance for Progress in the 1960's and 1970's.

By the time the Sandinista government came to power in 1979, the Atlantic Coast legacy was one of abandonment and dire deprivation. The standard of living of the majority of the inhabitants was miserable, there was hardly an infrastructure and in fact the indigenous population had no concept of, and in fact, no faith in the central government in Managua These decades of neglect had a dual consequence: -firstly, because they were so isolated, the coastal peoples were able to develop their own traditions, customs, language, religious and cultural patterns which were distinct from those developed on the Pacific Coast. Secondly, there developed a justifiable mistrust for the authorities in Managua, which was to prove problematic for the Sandinista government when they attempted to introduce their national agenda for development on the Atlantic Coast.

In 1981, however, problems began to surface. The reasons were complex and varied, but it appears that a fundamental source of the conflict was the perceived insensitivity of the central government towards the indigenous peoples. When Sandinista representatives arrived on the Atlantic Coast they assumed the social and economic policies devised in Managua could apply to the Atlantic Coast. In their enthusiasm and zeal to implement these policies, they ignored the traditions and indeed the complex history of the region. Their narrow focus on redressing economic and social problems came to a clash with a growing sense of ethnic identity among the Miskito community, an ethnic identity which in fact burgeoned during the days of the struggle for liberation led by the Sandinistas. This conflict was immediately utilised by indigenous leaders, who, playing on traditional animosity between the country's two coasts, promoted a separatist movement (which the Reagan administration found expedient to encourage and support).

To certain sections of the Miskito leadership, however, this was not sufficient and in 1981 armed Miskito and other indigenous groups, with the help of the C.I.A. carried out a series of attacks against communities and government posts on the Honduran borders. The government responded with the evacuation of several communities; these measures were criticised strongly in anti-Sandinista quarters and used substantially in Washington's propaganda campaign against the Sandinsta government. The armed confrontation continued for a few years.

During 1984 negotiations began between the indigenous people of the Atlantic coast and the central government. These negotiations revolved not only around solving the armed conflict, but initiatives were also set in motion for the discussion of regional autonomy for the region. A general amnesty was declared shortly thereafter by the government whereby Miskito Indians who had joined the contra rebels could return to Nicaragua without reprisals.The autonomy project was initiated by the setting up of an Autonomy Commission which prepared a draft autonomy proposal containing, inter alia, a statement of general principles, the objectives of regional autonomy and a proposal for the structure, functions and organisation of the autonomous regional government.

Consultation on the autonomy proposal begin in earnest in 1985 and in 1986 a multi-ethnic assembly was held with representatives of all ethnic groups and communities of the Atlantic Coast. At that assembly consensus was sought on crucial issues such as the borders of the autonomous region, the use of natural resources and the structure and electoral system of the regional government. Thereafter the Autonomy Commission set to work on the draft of the Autonomy Law to be ratified in a later multi-ethnic assembly in 1987, and further debate and ratification by the National Assembly. The Autonomy Law was passed in 1987.




Breif History of Colonization of Central America By Britain; http://www.clas.ufl.edu/users/afburns/afrotrop/atlantic.htm

  Although Spain laid claim to all of Central America in the 16th century, the absence of precious metals, the lack of a large indigenous work force, and the difficult climate and topography kept the Spanish from maintain a physical presence along the Atlantic coast of the isthmus. But for British pirates, the swampy coastal lagoons and rivers were perfect supply and refuge sites; and there were valuable timbers to be harvested.

 

  In 1655, after capturing Jamaica from Spain, Britain moved into the Atlantic coast to challenge Spain's nominal claim. Based at Providence Island and Cape Gracias a Dios, the British founded settlements along the coast as far north as Belize, the former British Honduras.

 

  The English colonization of the Atlantic coast was primarily done in two ways: (1) With Indians living along the Miskito Coast of Nicaragua and Honduras, the British traded firearms and metal tools for turtle meat, lumber and fish. They formed alliances with the Miskito Indians, using them as guerilla forces to counter Spanish attempts to regain control. (2) In Belize and in the Bay Islands off the coast of Honduras, they cut logwood and mahogany, grew indigo, sugar and bananas. These industries required a large labor force, so the British brought in African slaves captured from the Spanish or purchased in Jamaica. In Belize, slaves accounted for 71% of the population by 1745.

 

 Throughout the Caribbean, revolts were breaking out and after the success of the Haitian insurrection in 1803, subjugated people in the Greater and Lesser Antilles were given courage to to fight. On St. Vincent, a group known as the "Black Caribs"(Garifuna) revolted under the leadership of their chief Chatoyer. The Black Caribs(Garifuna), were a population of slaves intermixed with the native Carib indians who had resisted both French and British rule from the first attempts at colonization and exploitation. The British defeated the uprising and deported the surviving Black Caribs from St. Vincent to the Bay Islands in Honduras

Brief From Conflict to Autonomy in Nicaragua:Lessons Learnt

By Sandra Brunnegger

(http://www2.ohchr.org/english/bodies/cescr/docs/info-ngos/mrginicaragua39wg.pdf)

Autonomy arrangements:

In 1987, both law 28, the Autonomy statute for the

Atlantic Coast of Nicaragua, and the 1987 Amendments to

the Constitution, were enacted for the Atlantic Coast

region. The Constitution of 1987 (revised in 1995)

recognizes the multi-ethnic nature of Nicaragua (Article 8),

noting indigenous peoples’ existence, their right to

development of their identity and culture (Article 5), and

the official status of their languages in addition to Spanish

on the Coast (Article 11). It also ratifies communities’ right

to intercultural education in their own language (Article

121) and recognizes collective forms of land ownership

(Article 89).

39

This created two separate autonomous regions, the

Northern Atlantic Autonomous Region (RAAN – Spanish

abbreviation), and Southern Atlantic Autonomous Region

(RAAS); these two areas comprise half of the country’s

landmass. The region’s inhabitants, however, represent less

than 10 per cent of the population (there being

approximately 620,640 inhabitants in the Atlantic

region).

40

While law 28 (granting autonomy) and its associated

Constitutional Amendments passed in 1987, Parliament

did not ratify the regulations setting out the terms of the

autonomy statute until late 2003. This was also the date of

the passing of the Communal Property Regime law no.

445,

41

which addressed indigenous concerns over land

demarcation and natural resources.

The regulation implementing the autonomy and law

445 proved harder to settle, because of political conflicts

between the regional councils and central government over

the scope of the autonomy. In addition, there was conflict,

and at times deadlock – just as there was at a national level

– between the Sandinista and conservative/liberal parties

and alliances that dominated the RAAN and RAAS

regional councils,

42

and between the members of the

regional council and the regional coordinator.

43

Party

loyalties often took precedence over local concerns.

44

Conflicts also exist between the regional structures and

central government, though these have perhaps eased since

the Alemán administration (1997–2001), which

purportedly ‘sought to recentralize power’.

45

Autonomy regulations in detail

Autonomy law 28 offers a definition of autonomy on the

Atlantic Coast as a:

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FROM CONFLICT TO AUTONOMY IN NICARAGUA: LESSONS LEARNT

‘process … that enriches the national culture, and

recognizes and strengthens ethnic identity groups; it

respects the specificities of the cultures of the communities

of the Atlantic Coast; it redeems the history of the same;

it recognizes property rights on communal land and

repudiates any type of discrimination; it recognizes

religious freedom and, without deepening differences,

recognizes distinct identities as coming together to build

national unity.’

46

The recognition of a multi-ethnic, multi-cultural and

multi-lingual nation thus acknowledges the political,

economic, social and cultural rights of the citizens on the

Atlantic Coast.

47

The form of autonomy specifically sets out

to respect the cultural specificity of the region while also

making clear that ‘the communities of the Atlantic Coast

are an indissoluble part of the indivisible State of

Nicaragua’.

48

The law entails such cultural rights as the right to

religious freedom and the right of inhabitants to be

educated in their own language, further extending official

status to indigenous languages.

49

A central tenet of the law

thus appears to be the preservation of indigenous cultures,

a principle with ramifications in other areas of policy. In

health, for example, the implication would be for the state

to support the development and diffusion of techniques of

traditional medicine, and their validation by science.

50

Furthermore, municipalities (or town councils) should be

created according to communal traditions.

51

Under the terms of autonomy, regional authorities are

charged with the provision of health, education, cultural,

transport and community services in coordination with

central government or the respective ministry. Furthermore,

national development projects are prepared with the

participation of Atlantic administration and implemented

in a manner sensitive to the interests of the region’s

communities.

52

The regions are further free to initiate their

own economic, social or cultural projects through regional

council action.

53

It becomes the statutory responsibility of

the regional councils to ensure that, in the elaboration,

evaluation and execution of plans, women’s organizations

are duly consulted.

54

In addition, regional councils are

tasked with promoting the participation of women’s groups

in all levels of government and administrative functions.

55

In terms of financial regulation, the law stipulates that

councils present an annual budget to central government

seeking costed finance for projects and programmes.

56

Regional budgets are evaluated subject to norms proposed

jointly by the regional council and respective ministries of

central government.

57

The regional councils can also impose

regional taxes in order to finance plans, projects and

programmes.

58

The autonomy law also sets out terms regarding the

management of natural resources and establishment of

communal property, and dictates that such land must be

used ‘rationally’ and the ecosystem protected.

59

These rules

state the rights of the indigenous inhabitants of communal

land to an equitable share of resources in the event of any

exploitation. Agreements between regional and central

governments specify the division of the benefits of

exploitation between all parties.

60

Law 445 provides for

agreed procedures in the demarcation and titling of lands

belonging to the community as a whole, applying to

indigenous land occupation, usufruct and rights to natural

resources.

61

The administrative body, CONADETI

(Comisión Nacional de Demarcación y Titulación),

comprising both government and Atlantic Coast

representatives at board level, is tasked with the

demarcation and titling process.

62

This sequence follows

five stages: presentation of application; conflict resolution;

measurement and marking of boundaries; titling; and,

lastly, restitution.

63

The conflict resolution stage is necessary

because indigenous land ownership frequently overlaps

with the occupation of land by Mestizo incomers and other

ethnic communities.

Even more important than the allocation of exploitation

profits between stakeholders, regional councils retain a veto

power over any plans for exploration or concessions of

natural resources made by national governments on the

territories of the Coast.

64

The cultural dimension

Autonomy enshrined the right of cultural minorities to a

bilingual education and to the official recognition of their

language. As noted, this was one of the first demands put

forward in the historical process of the regions’ bargaining

for devolution, with bilingual education being provided

through a decree in 1980. Central government’s failure to

make good on the literacy campaign in the coastal regions

was one of the reasons that conflict erupted in the 1980s.

Following the 1987 passing of autonomy legislation, two

universities centred on communities, the URACCAN

(Universidad de las Regiones Autónomas de la Costa

Caribe Nicaragüense) and the BICU (Bluefields Indian

Caribbean University), were approved in 1992 by the

national higher education council. It was decreed that the

necessity for these universities lay in their educational

provision answering local community needs.

65

In this way,

education and language were officially recognized as

identity markers for local minorities, carrying with them

the assurance of cultural rights. Further, in increasing

Costeño access to higher education, it was envisaged that

local administrative capacity would be enhanced, paving

the way for locals to take a far greater part in running their

own affairs.

66

In these terms, the universities can be viewed

as a powerful tool of empowerment for the indigenous and

Afro-descendant communities on the Coast, especially

since they run specific programmes for these ethnic groups,

reaching into remote areas. The main threat on the horizon

is that the regional universities, in common with the whole

of the country’s higher education sector, currently faces

spending cuts from central government.

67

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FROM CONFLICT TO AUTONOMY IN NICARAGUA: LESSONS LEARNT

Moreover, projects and plans for the education sector on

the coast require annual budgetary approval from central

government, and must be administered in coordination

with the national Ministry of Education. Though regional

government enjoys some limited scope in initiating

educational projects, in particular being able to raise taxes

for this purpose, this power can be rendered ineffective in

practice by the region’s weak economy.

The economic dimension

In terms of economic development, the Atlantic area has

not picked up significantly after the war; local industries

fled the fighting and have yet to be replaced in terms of

sources of tax revenue.

68

Inhabitants along the Atlantic

Coast are ‘among the nation’s poorest’, according to the

Nicaraguan government, while transportation costs mean

that the cost of living is higher than in the rest of the

country.

69

Further, Atlantic Nicaragua suffers from a high

degree of economic underdevelopment (in such parameters

as access to safe water, electricity and sanitation), with

unemployment running at a higher rate (approximately 50

per cent to 80 per cent) than in the country as a whole

(with an official government rate of 12 per cent for the

whole country).

70

Joblessness is particularly high among

youth and women, precipitating the exodus of young

working people from the region.

These data on underdevelopment, however, should be

seen in the context of Nicaragua’s overall economic

situation, with the country among the poorest in the

Western hemisphere. After being granted 80 per cent debt

relief in 2004, in 2005 Nicaragua presented its

development plan to the IMF and World Bank. The plan

has been criticized as significantly ‘flawed’ in failing to

address the needs of the country’s most marginalized

inhabitants, particularly insofar as it declined ‘to tackle ...

inequality in the country ... [and] prioritis[ed] repaying

internal debts [over] spending on education and health’.

71

Nicaragua’s framework document also came in for criticism

regarding the inadequate provisions for devolution, mainly

on account of budgets being drawn up by central

government officials unfamiliar with ‘reality at the

municipal level’.

72

There thus seems to be inadequate

provision for including the Atlantic region in Nicaragua’s

development plan.

Structural concerns in economic development

The economic development of the Atlantic region is a

precondition for the area’s political autonomy; at the same

time, growth is only likely to come about through

investment in human resources’ productive capacity, and in

transport and telecommunications infrastructure.

73

This

spending is dependent on central government goodwill.

Stronger political powers for regional government are

needed if the economy is to be given any sort of kickstart.

In the absence of such political provisions, it will be

necessary to improve the coordination processes in

allocating funds and planning infrastructure projects

between regional and central government partners.

Infrastructure spending by itself, however, will not be

sufficient to lift the region out of poverty without

investment in education, training and human resources.

Political under-representation of minorities

Local government needs to propose and deliver financially

feasible plans supported by the full ethnic and cultural

range of its constituents. This remains difficult, however,

because of the democratic deficit from which the RAAS

and RAAN still suffer in terms of the under-representation

of indigenous peoples, Afro-Caribbeans and women at all

levels (municipal, regional and national) of government.

Within the regions, in the March 2006 regional council

elections, representatives from indigenous and Afro-

Caribbean communities/Creoles won 23 seats (or 47.9 per

cent), while Mestizo politicians took 25 (or 52.1 per cent)

in the RAAN. In RAAS, the indigenous and Afro-

Caribbean communities/Creoles and Garífuna took 19

seats (40.4 per cent) as against 28 (59.6 per cent) for the

Mestizo community members.

74

Mestizo representatives

make up the majority in both councils. Non-indigenous

local demographic strength is only set to grow in light of

the continuing migration of Mestizos from the Pacific coast

to the Atlantic in search of cheap land. This internal

migration is likely to lead to further inter-ethnic conflict

over property, leading to further under-representation of

the regions’ original resident communities at local and

regional government level.

The situation appears to be one where some consistent

formula allowing the greater political representation of the

area’s more long-standing inhabitants is necessary. In this

connection, the autonomy law provides that a person needs

to have lived in the autonomous region for a year to be

able to vote, and for five years to stand as a candidate for

the council.

75

Moreover, in the RAAS, in six of the 15

designated electoral districts, each political party’s first list

candidate has to be drawn from the ethnic community

designated as living locally (respectively Miskitu, Creole,

Mayagna, Garífuna, Rama and Mestizo). In the RAAN, the

same provision applies to four of the 15 electoral districts,

where one ethnic group is designated (respectively Miskitu,

Creole, Mayagna and Mestizo). These provisions are

intended to guarantee the representation of minority

groups; however, figures show that this regulation is

insufficient in itself to prevent Mestizos from squeezing out

the local population.

76

At national assembly level, meanwhile, the RAAN and

RAAS are represented by three and two elected deputies

respectively (by Article 141 of the Election law). This is out

of line with population numbers, given that RAAS is in

fact one of the most populous departments of Nicaragua,

though its inhabitants are thinly distributed (in 2006 there

is one deputy for each 95,875 people in RAAS, as against

one per 45,104 people in Chinandega).

77

An increase in

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FROM CONFLICT TO AUTONOMY IN NICARAGUA: LESSONS LEARNT

representation would be fair, as well as potentially giving

the region more bargaining power with central

government. Of the five deputies elected to the National

Assembly, four are Mestizo and one indigenous; all are men

except for one of the RAAN deputies.

Further, the Coast suffers as a result of the specific

exclusion of regional parties from national politics; this

forces local associations to form an alliance with a national

body in order to be able to participate in a national

election. In the 2000 municipal elections, YATAMA, a

political party considered to be the successor organization

to MISURASATA, was barred from participating in local

elections by a resolution of the Supreme Electoral Council

on the grounds that it failed to meet a quota of supporting

signatures. The case went to the Inter-American Court of

Human Rights, which decided in favour of YATAMA. The

Court found that the Nicaraguan state had neglected to

incorporate adequate provisions in the electoral law making

possible political involvement on the part of the coastal

region’s indigenous populations.

78

Within population centres, meanwhile, a majority of the

mayors are Mestizos.

79

By law (Article 41 of law 445),

mayors are also incorporated in CONADETI, the

governmental institution responsible for the demarcation

and titling of communal land. Since some fiscal

responsibilities are vested in municipalities, this level of

government can play an important role in soliciting the

presence of companies, including those involved in natural

resource exploitation, as seen in the pivotal Awas Tingni

case, which will be described below.

Land issues

Although some ethnic representatives do sit on

CONADETI, most are drawn from various levels of central

and regional government. These representatives are moved

by complex and intersecting political considerations: party

loyalty, ethnic group/Mestizo loyalty/identification,

commercial linkages, patronage relations, electoral

expediency and personal ambition. Within minority

communities themselves, meanwhile, internal divisions

have formed between supposed individual landholders and

the majority indigenous population. Mestizos living on

communal lands, and the occupation by migrating Mestizos

of properties said to form part of communal territories,

complicate the awarding of title still further, giving rise,

especially in the RAAN, to lethal disputes.

80

According to

Cyril Omeir, Secretary General of CONADETI, six

communal properties have so far gone through all five

stages of demarcation and titling, while a number of claims

for communal property are still in process.

81

This indicates

the length and complexity of the titling process.

Before 2004, despite constitutional recognition and the

provisions in the autonomy law, indigenous peoples had no

standardized means of recourse in their attempts to register

and acquire legal title to their traditional land. Law 445

was devised as a response to the Awas Tingni case, in which

the Nicaraguan government overruled the wishes of the

traditional communal occupiers of a territory in granting a

land concession to a logging company.

82

The Inter-

American Commission for Human Rights ruled the

concession invalid as violating the occupant communities’

traditional land use patterns and, importantly, territorial

definitions. While the ruling ushered in law 445, the

Nicaraguan government has yet to implement the 2001

ruling in this particular case.

83

Natural resources

As the Awas Tingni case shows, while regional councils hold

an important veto power over concessions, this is not

invariably exercised to the advantage of indigenous

communities. In this case, the concession was granted by

Nicaragua’s Ministry of the Environment, with the support

of the governing board of the RAAN, despite local

resistance. When even the Supreme Court of Justice found

against the concession in 1997, the ministry continued to

pressure the council to approve it.

84

The overlap of political

interests between regional and national party

representatives explains this capitulation to national

priorities as much as the structural under-representation of

ethnic minorities.

Law 445 specifies the division of the benefits of

exploitation into 25 per cent each between indigenous

landowners, municipalities, regional councils and central

government (after external companies’ share of profits).

This allocation is itself contentious; in practice, the

procedure by which the monies are split is not transparent,

with communities suspecting that much of the money due

to the municipality is not fed back to them.

85

Possible lessons to be learnt

In thinking beyond the immediate Nicaraguan situation to

consider the possible lessons of the Coast’s experience more

widely, it is important to gain a correct sense of how

autonomy took root. It remains a moot question whether

autonomy was proposed and won from below or rather

enforced from above. The autonomy framework as

ultimately implemented derived from plans made by the

government, which first assigned the task of devising a

workable form of autonomy to its National Autonomy

Commission 1984 (rather than resulting from the

negotiation of a proposal initiated by the people on the

Atlantic Coast itself ); this was then adapted and improved

in consultation with local people.

86

The process solicited an

impressively broad degree of participation; at the same

time, such state-led processes will not necessarily carry

procedural or other legitimacy in other countries.

Nevertheless, the Nicaraguan case shows that state efforts

to move towards minorities’ demands through engaging

broad public participation can have a positive effect. In this

instance, government plans helped lead to peace, and there

is every reason to suppose that this peace will be more

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FROM CONFLICT TO AUTONOMY IN NICARAGUA: LESSONS LEARNT

lasting as a result of the openness of the government in

power at the time towards the communities’ cultures.

Winning the respect of indigenous citizens in this way was

a key step in the Sandinistas inducing armed combatants to

return home. Autonomy represents one possible political

formulation for such respect and recognition.

While it is undeniable that the autonomy and peace

processes were simultaneous and interlinked, the literature

also stresses other causes for conflict dying out, notably

Miskitu responses to CIA-led efforts to streamline the

insurgency as a fighting force. Some indigenous factions

gave up US funding in refusing to ally themselves with the

Contras, while others sought to hold on to their own

operations, again choking off funds.

87

It is also possible that

local community rivalries hampered the rebels’ efforts

militarily, though this is no rationale in itself for rebels to

lay down arms. The particularity of the Nicaraguan

situation should make us hesitate before inferring lessons

too readily for other contexts; nevertheless, autonomy

arrangements played a clear role in defusing inter-ethnic

and inter-regional conflict. It was also important that the

government appealed to the population at large through

community efforts, rather than simply courting a political

elite. Indeed, the straightforwardness with which the

Sandinistas were able to appease the most violent

indigenous grievances suggests that conflict could have

been avoided altogether had some form of autonomy been

offered sooner. This lesson of possible pre-emption

represents another important finding to be taken from the

Nicaraguan case.

Furthermore the autonomy arrangement proposed by

the Sandinistas contained substantive provisions addressing

one of the main grievances triggering the violent conflict –

respect and promotion of coastal peoples’ identities.

What further lessons can be drawn from the experience

of (partial and contested) devolution in coastal Nicaragua?

It appears axiomatic that, in order to meet specific needs

and forestall possible conflicts, the form of autonomy

devised for ethnically distinct regions must be carefully

considered.

In this respect we would be well-advised to consider

Nicaragua’s autonomy arrangements under two headings: as

they exist in law and in terms of their effects on the

ground. In legal terms, autonomy provisions are

constitutionally guaranteed within specific statutes and

corollary laws. The RAAN and RAAS regions enjoy a well-

defined legal status. The scope of autonomy is clear, with

each region divided into municipalities and governed by a

regional council, which is elected by popular franchise

every four years. Deputies in turn represent regional

interests in the National Assembly. Health, education,

cultural, transport and community services are run in

coordination with central government. Further,

competencies have been granted to the regions in cultural,

social and economic matters. Regarding natural resources,

the regional councils retain veto rights over any proposed

exploitation project on the Atlantic Coast. Communal

rights (e.g. right to education in first language, right to

communal land ownership) are granted to indigenous

communities. Legally, some measure of cultural autonomy

has been recognized, as manifested in the requirement for

municipalities to be organized by community traditions.

The promotion of the cultures of the various coastal ethnic

groups runs like a red line through the law, e.g. support for

traditional medicine. Economically, meanwhile, the regions

are also free to levy additional taxes to fund plans, projects

and programmes, besides presenting an annual budget to

central government for the costing of their plans. Thus far

these provisions appear worth emulating in other contexts.

However, while the current situation in Nicaragua is one

in which the edge has been taken off grievances, many

indigenous peoples remain dissatisfied with the practical

benefits of autonomy on the ground. Problems prevent the

realization of local plans, effectively constraining the

legitimacy of local government. Both the overweening

centralization of state bureaucracy and skills deficits at local

level contribute to this shortfall. Internal political differences

and frictions with central government, meanwhile, continue

to plague the delivery of local services. While the formal

scope of autonomy is impressive, in practice autonomy has

not driven the changes one might expect for local

inhabitants’ quality of life. Too often, coastal issues become

tangled with clashes of factional interest between the

representatives of national institutions. Furthermore, the law

fails to ensure proportionate representation for indigenous

communities in the Coast’s regional parliaments. The overall

situation has tended to alienate Costeños from the

government once more, with some former YATAMA

members rearming in the late 1990s.

88

Most groups, though, agree that democratic engagement

with the government represents the only means to improve

the Coast’s status. This most likely represents a positive

legacy of the broad participation process engaged in by the

Sandinistas when proposing autonomy. Whatever the

region’s future, it remains the case that the granting of

autonomy on paper has yet to succeed in relieving regional

underdevelopment and poverty. Political will and better

structuring of resources and decision-making will be

necessary to make autonomy work. To ensure long-term

peace, a political settlement establishing autonomy is not

enough; it has to operate to secure a thriving economy and

society in peacetime.

A Documentary Film By John Pilger In 1979, the Sandinistas won a popular revolution in Nicaragua, putting an end to decades of the ... all » corrupt US-backed Somoza dictatorship:

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