There was a knock at the door, and I immediately knew who it was.
A few friends had alerted me that they might show up, though I tried not to dwell on it too much. Honestly, I thought I wasn’t a high enough target for them. They had already arrested the most vocal critics of the government—human rights lawyers, opposition leaders—all of whom were now facing imprisonment. So, why would they come for me?
But they did come for me.
In November 2022, I was taken into custody in Nicaragua, my home country. I had been a student protester, leading marches and talking with authorities. The government labeled me a terrorist and threw me in prison. During my time there, I suffered psychological torture, lost my citizenship, and was eventually exiled to the United States.
Recently, I’ve been reading stories about other students like Mahmoud Khalil, Yunseo Chung, and rümeysaÖztürk. My thoughts often wander back to my own experience as I read their accounts. When I see news about protests in Los Angeles and the responses from military forces, I can’t help but think of President Daniel Ortega’s actions. I remember how he dealt with our protests. Hearing former President Trump label protesters as “paid” reminds me of Ortega’s rhetoric—he once did the same to me.
Throughout my life, I’ve witnessed the gradual decline of democracy in my country. Since arriving in the United States, I see some unsettling echoes of that situation here.
In Nicaragua, there was an initial agreement—the “El Pact”—under which Ortega, a prominent Sandinista leader, ruled for a decade in the 1980s but later lost three elections. One significant opponent, former mayor Arnold Aleman, eventually was convicted of stealing $100 million in aid meant for impoverished regions. In an odd twist, Ortega and Aleman struck a deal that allowed Ortega to reclaim power while avoiding imprisonment for Aleman.
This is quite different from what’s happening with New York City’s Mayor Eric Adams, who’s suddenly shifted his stance amid what appears to be a corruption scandal. He endorses Trump’s deportation policy only for the Department of Justice to drop a crucial case. Is this not just another version of an El Pact, albeit further north?
A critical aspect of Ortega’s consolidation of power involved undermining Nicaragua’s university system. He limited their autonomy, imposing government ideology on educational curricula and placing party loyalists in positions of oversight. This contrasts with how the Trump administration revoked funding from U.S. universities—leading to sharp cutbacks for institutions like Central American University, once regarded as among the best.
The Nicaraguan Constitution mandates that 6% of the national budget be allocated to universities. Yet, under Ortega, funding vanished after he accused UCA of supporting terrorism during the 2018 uprisings. Student protesters across the nation faced scholarship revocations, and eventually, UCA and other universities were seized by the government.
Are there not disturbing similarities with recent events in the U.S.? We’ve seen reputable universities here labeled similarly and lose federal funding, while students have had their visas revoked. Will private universities in America face the same fate as in Nicaragua?
Central American University held significant influence as a Catholic institution, yet it was only one target among many that the Nicaraguan government attacked. Though Catholicism is a key part of Nicaragua’s identity, Ortega has treated the Church as an enemy, accusing it of money laundering and undermining its authority while promoting a clergy that aligns with his interests.
Isn’t this reminiscent of Vice President Vance’s recent comments about the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops being financially motivated rather than humanitarian?
Vance even invoked theological concepts to justify immigration policies. New York Cardinal Timothy Dolan criticized those remarks, noting they contradicted Pope Francis’s teachings—paralleling Ortega’s responses to the Pope’s corrections years ago.
When Trump arrived on the political scene, I found his message appealing. But now, the eerie parallels between Nicaragua and current U.S. leadership are undeniable.
I watched as Nicaragua’s democracy crumbled bit by bit, and here I am, in what is supposed to be the land of freedom, witnessing similar threats to democracy. I stood up for democratic values back then and was labeled a terrorist. Now, I wonder how many more knocks on the door are to come.
Miguel Flores is a political exile, activist, and advocate for democracy and human rights in Nicaragua.
