There are words that transcend politics and end up becoming a moral test. The statements of Costa Rican President Laura Fernández about Nicaragua are one of them.
By stating, on June 13 on NTN24, that Nicaraguans have the government “that they have chosen to have,” the president not only ignored years of repression, electoral fraud and political persecution perpetrated by the dictatorship of Daniel Ortega and Rosario Murillo, widely documented by international organizations. He also broke with one of the most noble and respected traditions of Costa Rican foreign policy: the unequivocal defense of democracy, elections with integrity, human rights and fundamental freedoms. It was not a formal error. It was a serious fundamental error.
What he said—and what he deliberately omitted
In his statements, Fernández avoided referring to the allegations of electoral fraud, the serious violations of human rights, the persecution against defenders and journalists, the closure of civil society organizations and media outlets, the exile of opponents and critics of the regime, the absolute concentration of power in the hands of Ortega and Murillo, and the complaints about transnational persecution and murder operations against Nicaraguan dissidents in Costa Rican territory.
It was not an forgetfulness. It was a deliberate omission of the most disturbing facts of Nicaraguan reality.
The president even went so far as to highlight that Nicaragua maintains economic stability and makes investments, adding that the situation of Nicaraguans cannot be compared with that of Cubans or Venezuelans. Beyond the debatable accuracy of that statement, the argument fulfills an obvious political function: normalizing a dictatorship because there are worse ones.
But dictatorships do not stop being dictatorships because there are other more repressive ones. The absence of democracy is not measured by relative comparison, but by the systematic denial of fundamental freedoms.
The facts that the president refused to see
What Fernández described as “the form of government they have chosen” has been characterized by international organizations, independent experts and human rights organizations as one of the most authoritarian regimes on the continent.
In January 2025, the National Assembly controlled by the ruling party approved a constitutional reform that formalized the shared power of Ortega and Murillo, extended the presidential term from 5 to 6 years, also granting the Executive extraordinary powers over the other powers of the State. Ortega has been in power since 2007 and eliminated limits on presidential re-election through a constitutional reform in 2014.
Repression does not belong to the past either. Human rights organizations continue to document dozens of political prisoners, forced disappearances, and increasing restrictions on civil liberties. Since the April 2018 protests, state repression has left more than 300 people murdered and thousands injured.
Human rights violations recorded by independent organizations increased dramatically between the end of 2025 and the beginning of 2026. Far from stabilizing, the repressive apparatus continues to expand.
And for Costa Rica there is also a particularly sensitive dimension.
The murder in San José of the Nicaraguan opponent and former Army major Roberto Samcam Ruiz, in June 2025, confirmed the fears that exiles and human rights organizations had been denouncing for years: the regime’s persecution does not end at the borders of Nicaragua.
The United Nations Group of Experts on Nicaragua concluded that there is an extensive state surveillance and intelligence network that involves government institutions, security forces and diplomatic representations to monitor and persecute opponents inside and outside the country.
The regime that the president describes as a stable and harmonious neighbor is accused by international experts of extending political persecution beyond its borders. That data, for Costa Rica, is not secondary. It is central.
The betrayal of a historical tradition
Fernández’s position is not only morally questionable. It also represents a break with one of the most valuable traditions of Costa Rican foreign policy.
Costa Rica built much of its international prestige on the defense of human rights, democracy and international law. This tradition received a strong boost from the 1980s, when President Óscar Arias promoted the Central American peace process that earned him the Nobel Peace Prize.
That regional effort was not limited to ending armed conflicts. It demanded free elections, respect for human rights and democratic openness. Paradoxically, Nicaragua was one of the countries that signed these commitments.
Decades later, the same Daniel Ortega who signed them heads the regime that has systematically dismantled them.
Arias himself repeatedly warned about the dangers of the concentration of power and expressly cited Ortega as an example of authoritarian drift incompatible with democratic values.
Costa Rica—after the political crisis of 2018 and the arrests of 2021—made the correct decision, based on principles, not to break diplomatic relations with the Nicaraguan dictatorial regime but to conduct them at the level of a chargé d’affaires.
What Fernández does now is reverse that moral position without announcement, without public debate and without offering a convincing strategic explanation.
When former presidents react
The seriousness of the statements was reflected in the reaction of historical figures in Costa Rican politics.
Former President Laura Chinchilla harshly questioned Fernández’s words, recalling that Nicaraguan electoral processes have been repeatedly denounced as fraudulent by international organizations and offering apologies to the Nicaraguan people.
Former president Luis Guillermo Solís also expressed his disagreement, pointing out that the statements show a profound ignorance of the systematic violations of human rights committed by the Ortega-Murillo regime and recalling that the defense of those rights has been a constant of Costa Rican foreign policy.
When leaders from different ideological traditions agree on such severe criticism, the problem transcends the partisan dispute. This is a question of principle.
Non-interference as a refuge from indifference
Fernández justified his position by appealing to the principle of non-interference and stating that Nicaragua’s affairs correspond to the internal sphere of that country.
It is a well-known argument. It is also one of the most used by those who prefer to avoid any discomfort in the face of authoritarian governments.
But crimes against humanity, forced disappearances and political persecution are not internal matters. The modern international system was built precisely on the idea that there are violations so serious that they transcend national borders.
Costa Rica historically understood that reality early. That is why it managed to build a moral authority disproportionately greater than its geographical or economic size.
Giving up that tradition now means giving up one of the country’s main sources of international influence.
The geopolitical context that Fernández ignored
The president’s statements also come at a particularly delicate moment.
While the United States increases pressure on the Ortega-Murillo regime and demands the immediate release of political prisoners, and while various international organizations toughen their criticism of Managua, Costa Rica seems to be moving in the opposite direction.
This is not simply a difference in diplomatic tone.
This is a substantive change in the historical position of a country that for decades was considered a regional reference in terms of democracy, free elections and human rights.
The cost of irresponsible words
Currently, nearly 200,000 refugee applications from Nicaraguan citizens remain pending resolution in Costa Rica. Behind each file there is a story of persecution, fear, exile or family breakup.
Many of those people fled precisely from the regime that the president described as the result of a supposedly democratic election.
That is why Fernández’s phrase is not only inaccurate. It is deeply unfair.
As former President Laura Chinchilla rightly pointed out, “there are two possible explanations for such a statement: ignorance or indifference. If it is the former, it shames the country. If it is the latter, it dishonors a tradition built over generations.”
For decades, Costa Rica was admired because it understood that neutrality in the face of dictatorships is not prudence: it is complicity. That conviction gave him prestige, influence and moral authority far beyond his size.
But when a democracy begins to normalize a dictatorship, the problem is no longer only in Managua. It is also in San José.
