Nicaragua is once again at the doorstep of the Organization of American States (OAS), not as a peripheral matter or simply another crisis on a crowded hemispheric agenda, but as a test of the Inter-American system’s capacity to defend the principles it claims to uphold.
The timing is no coincidence. The OAS Permanent Council has convened a Meeting of Consultation of Ministers of Foreign Affairs to address the Nicaraguan situation. The mere fact of this gathering highlights that the crisis in Nicaragua represents a direct challenge to the Inter-American democratic order.
Yet expecting a uniform response would be naive. The hemisphere is navigating a new geopolitical reality. The United States has adopted a more dominant regional posture, with the logic of the Monroe Doctrine occupying a significant place in its hemispheric strategy. In contrast, Mexico and Brazil, while differing from each other, have voiced clear reservations about a continental architecture overly shaped by Washington.
These tensions could make consensus difficult. However, they might also yield an unexpected outcome. There is a fundamental difference between disagreeing on the strategy to confront the Sandinista dictatorship of Daniel Ortega and Rosario Murillo, and actively defending it.
The Nicaraguan regime may rely on governments willing to maintain diplomatic and economic relations or adopt cautious stances toward pressure tactics. But that does not mean there is a broad political movement in the Americas prepared to publicly defend a model that has dismantled democratic institutions, wiped out opposition, stripped citizens of their nationality, and weaponized exile as a tool of political control.
Therefore, the real challenge for the upcoming Meeting of Consultation of Foreign Affairs Ministers will not be passing a rhetorically forceful resolution. It will be ensuring that the resolution carries genuine political consequences.
This is where the Inter-American Democratic Charter becomes crucial. Its true value lies not merely in declaring democracy a regional principle, but in offering a political and institutional framework to respond when that democratic order is under severe threat.
The history of the OAS demonstrates that its resolutions can serve as effective instruments of political pressure. In 2009, for instance, following the breakdown of constitutional order in Honduras, the Permanent Council condemned the coup d’état and summoned a Special General Assembly.
Nicaragua presents a different —and in many ways, more complex— challenge today. The region is not witnessing a sudden collapse of constitutional order, but rather its steady, incremental demolition from within the state itself.
That distinction is critical.
The Sandinista Ortega-Murillo dictatorship did not need to formally abolish every institution to strip them of meaning. It has leveraged constitutional reforms, legislation, institutional capture, political persecution, and systemic exclusion to construct a regime where executive power is no longer bound by democratic rules.
Consequently, the international response cannot wait for a single, dramatic rupture in the constitutional order. The crux of the problem lies in recognizing that the systematic erosion of democracy constitutes a constitutional breakdown in its own right.
The upcoming resolution on Nicaragua should, therefore, be measured by a simple question: What will it enable member states to do after it passes? If it merely condemns, it will fall short. If it documents abuses, assigns political responsibility, and formally recognizes the gravity of the crisis, it will be meaningful.
But If it goes further, by establishing a framework that allows member states to implement coordinated national measures —whether diplomatic, economic, migratory, financial, or otherwise aligned with international law— then it could become a formidable instrument of pressure.
Here, a possibility worth considering emerges: hemispheric action need not to be uniform to be effective. Not all countries need to impose identical measures, as member states have distinct interests and face different risks. Some may be willing to take stronger steps than others. What matters is having a regional framework ensuring these steps are not seen as isolated actions, but as part of a broader, cohesive political response.
In this sense, the OAS could establish the launching pad, leaving individual states to execute follow-up actions. That could be the true significance of the upcoming resolution.
Nicaragua’s crisis is not merely a question of governance and democracy. It imposes direct challenges to regional security, human rights, migration stability, citizenship rights, and hemispheric security. When a government elevates political persecution to state policy, expels its own citizens, strips nationality as punishment, and extends repression beyond its borders, the crisis ceases to be purely domestic.
The OAS now has the opportunity to demonstrate whether its principles are mere rhetoric or if they retain the power to guide real policy decisions.
And this is perhaps the most uncomfortable question Foreign Ministers should ask themselves: What is the purpose of upholding and defending democracy as a core hemispheric value if, when faced with its systematic destruction in a member state, the collective response produces nothing more than another declaration or statement?
This is not a call for foreign intervention, nor does it ignore the intricacies of regional diplomacy. It is about something far more fundamental: ensuring the Inter-American system can set a firm political boundary against those who transform the state into an instrument of authoritarian rule.
The upcoming resolution will not, on its own, resolve the Nicaraguan crisis overnight, nor will it single-handedly bring down the Sandinista dictatorship. However, it can accomplish something decisive under the right conditions: it can raise the political cost of indifference. That could be its true impact.
The OAS can pass a resolution and let it gather dust in the archives of diplomatic bureaucracy. Or it can pass a resolution that marks a turning point—one that clearly defines the severity of the situation in Nicaragua and provides the political cover for willing states to move from statements to concrete action.
Unanimity should not be confused with effectiveness. Collective action does not always require every nation to act identically; it can mean multiple nations applying different tools against a shared threat.
That could be the true value of a resolution on Nicaragua: not enforcing a rigid, one-size-fits-all strategy, but opening the door to convergent hemispheric action, where each state uses the legal and political mechanisms at its disposal.
The OAS does not need to act as a supranational government. It simply needs to prove it can still fulfill its founding purpose: serving as an arena where the nations of the Americas acknowledge that democracy, human rights, and the rule of law are not internal matters when their destruction threatens the stability of the entire Inter-American system.
Nicaragua puts that promise to the test once again. This time, the real measure of success will not be what the OAS says, but what its member governments choose to do next.
Facing a dictatorship that has learned to weather international condemnation, the true measure of hemispheric policy will not be found in the strength of its words, but in the political consequences those words generate.
