Anastasio Somoza became president of Nicaragua in 1967, the third in the line of a Somoza dynasty that ruled the country as corrupt and brutal dictators. He faced opposition from the Sandinista National Liberation Front (FSLN), which was formed by leftist rebels in 1961. Although ineffective throughout the 1960s and early 1970s, the FSLN picked up steam in 1977 and 1978 with a series of successful raids against the National Guard. When the National Guard collapsed in July 1979, Somoza fled the country and the Sandinistas seized power.
The following year, the head of the Honduran national police provided training facilities in Honduras for former members of the Nicaraguan National Guard and encouraged them to form paramilitary units to fight against the Sandinistas. In 1981, the CIA brokered a deal in which the U.S. would provide the funds, Honduras the facilities, and Argentina the training for these newly formed Contras. On November 17, 1981, President Ronald Reagan approved $19 million in covert funds for the operation.
In 1986, Contra efforts to overthrow the Sandinista government found their way onto the popular television drama Miami Vice. Although primarily remembered for its music soundtrack and stylish attire, the series often ventured into real world topics during its five year run, with the season three episode “Stone’s War” being a prime example. The installment opens in a small Nicaraguan village, where the anti-communist Contras launch mortar shells on the unsuspecting populace. Forces of the Sandinista government attempt to fight back, but the insurgents have the advantage.
Independent journalist Ira Stone is on hand to witness the skirmish, along with a cameraman who films the proceedings. What he captures on video are not Contras but American mercenaries fighting on their behalf. One of the Americans shoots and kills an unarmed priest before noticing Stone and his colleague. He turns his gun towards them, hitting the cameraman. Stone grabs the camera and flees the scene.
Ira Stone heads for Miami, where he is greeted by Sonny Crockett, a member of the Miami Police Department’s vice division. Although customs seize his videotapes for inspection at the airport, Stone is still able to smuggle the damning tape into the country. When Crockett asks what’s going on, the journalist replies, “How’s footage of U.S. combat troops fighting in Nicaragua grab you?”
Upon seeing the tape, Sonny Crockett doesn’t believe it. “Every news service in the world has got reporters in Nicaragua and you’re trying to tell me that Ira Stone caught the only exclusive out of there?” Crockett says. “And on a home movie camera? Ha. It’s a fake.”
Stone argues otherwise, adding that he was being watched at the airport and his life might be in danger. His reputation as a journalist has taken a hit recently, which is why he flew to Miami as opposed to New York City – he believes he needs a local television station to be his go-between with the networks and help facilitate the sale of the videotape.
“We’re talking about reruns of Vietnam in Central America,” Stone says. “That’s what this tape is all about.”
In his 1987 book At War in Nicaragua: The Reagan Doctrine and the Politics of Nostalgia, E. Bradford Burns writes that most Americans considered the Vietnam War a regrettable chapter in U.S. history during the 1980s, believing that the “lesson” of Vietnam was that the United States should not get involved in military operations in Third World countries of no strategic value. President Ronald Reagan, however, had an alternative viewpoint and often referred to the military conflict as “a noble cause.”
A majority within the United States also opposed the Reagan Administration’s policies towards Central America, finding too many similarities with Vietnam. Reagan likewise saw similarities – albeit of a different sort – and relied on the Cold War rhetoric of the 1960s to justify his actions in the 1980s.
“The National Security of all the Americas is at stake in Central America,” he said in April 1983. “If we cannot defend ourselves there, we cannot expect to prevail elsewhere. Our credibility would collapse, our alliances would crumble and the safety of our homeland would be put in jeopardy.”
Back in Miami, an all-points-bulletin goes out on Ira Stone. “Wanted in the connection of the murder of Art Eden, American, in Central America,” it states. “Eden was posing as a news cameraman. Both men were actually involved in a heroin smuggling operation. Stone is suspected of fleeing to Miami. Warrant issued by the federal district court, Miami.”
Returning to his boat that evening, Sonny Crockett finds an unknown man onboard. “Just think of me as a nephew of Uncle Sam,” he tells Crockett. “Let me tell you something, pal,” Crockett replies. “I don’t know where Stone is or the tape, but I’m starting to get convinced that there’s some credibility to his story.” Before he can say anything else, the man’s partner gets the drop on Crockett and knocks him unconscious.
The next day, former CIA operative William Maynard meets with a group of men simply referred to as the “Committee,” which includes the judge who issued the warrant on Stone. “We all want the same thing,” Maynard tells them. “And thus far our limited operation has been successful. A second wave is assembling. We leave in twenty-four hours. They will stay in the fields with our Contra partners and win. Then the American public opinion will join us.”
In December 1983, President Reagan secretly approved a CIA plan to mine the harbors of Nicaragua. CIA operatives used speedboats under the protection of U.S.-piloted attack helicopters to lay the mines the following January and February. In At War in Nicaragua, E. Bradford Burns quotes Edgar Chamorro, a high-ranking Contra, who was awoken early one morning and handed a press release from a CIA operative named George.
“I was surprised to read that we – the Contras – were taking credit for having mined several Nicaraguan harbors,” Chamorro recalled. “George told me to rush to our clandestine radio station and read this announcement before the Sandinistas broke the news. Of course, we played no role in the mining of the harbors. This was not unusual. The CIA often gave us credit (or perhaps blame) for operations that we knew nothing about.”
After placing Ira Stone under protective custody, Crockett agrees to meet with a local news reporter named Alicia Mena, who is interested in the tape. She’s also made inquiries with state department officials, who deny knowledge of any covert operation in Nicaragua involving American troops. Crockett counters that her sources might not be privy to an operation contracted out to a former CIA agent like Maynard. He also mentions that the man on the tape who shot the priest is the person Crockett confronted on his boat.
In the meantime, one of William Maynard’s men poses as a justice department official and kidnaps Stone. Maynard calls Crockett and promises not to kill Stone in exchange for the tape. The news reporter initially refuses to part with it but Crockett’s partner Ricardo Tubbs convinces her to make a copy.
When Maynard realizes that the tape is merely a copy, he orders his men to kill Alicia Mena and erase the original. Although Crockett and Tubbs are able to track down Ira Stone, the journalist dies in the resulting shootout with Maynard’s men.
Although no Americans ever fought in Nicaragua, the CIA held considerable sway over the Contras nonetheless. Since the Contras proved ineffective at holding territory in Nicaragua, for instance, their primary focus was shifted to “economic vandalism and military harassment” and the destruction of highways, bridges, oil refineries, grain storage facilities, schools, and health clinics instead. Civilian populations in rural areas were regularly targeted as well. The strategy was known as “low-intensity warfare.”
“The ultimate goal is to undermine the enemy’s credibility as a viable political alternative,” Christian Smith explains in his 1996 book, Resisting Reagan: The U.S. Central America Peace Movement. “This is achieved through long-term political, economic, psychological, and military forms of aggression – always short of full-scale, direct battle – which, over time, discourage civilian support for the enemy.”
Smith then adds, “In low-intensity warfare, the traditional distinction between combatants and noncombatants disappears. The civilian population of the country in question is a major target.”
That night, Sonny Crockett is sitting alone on his boat when hears a radio news report. “Independent sources today confirmed Jesuit missionary Father Joseph Mattingly was murdered by the Nicaraguan government Sandinista forces in the village Ascension,” it begins. “Contra freedom fighters had vainly attempted to rescue the kidnapped priest. A formal U.S. protest is expected.”
Crockett knows the truth – that it wasn’t the Sandinistas who killed Father Mattingly but an American mercenary fighting on behalf of the Contras – but is also powerless to do anything about it.
Anthony Letizia