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Unlike earlier U.S. interventions in Latin America, the Reagan administration's attempt to overthrow the Sandinista government of Nicaragua during the 1980s was not allowed to proceed quietly. Tens of thousands of American citizens organized and agitated against U.S. aid to the counterrevolutionary guerrillas, known as “contras.” Believing the Contra War to be unnecessary, immoral, and illegal, they challenged the administration's Cold War stereotypes, warned of “another Vietnam,” and called on the United States to abide by international norms.

A Call to Conscience offers the first comprehensive history of the anti–Contra War campaign and its Nicaragua connections. Roger Peace places this eight-year campaign in the context of previous American interventions in Latin America, the Cold War, and other grassroots oppositional movements. Based on interviews with American and Nicaraguan citizens and leaders, archival records of activist organizations, and official government documents, this book reveals activist motivations, analyzes the organizational dynamics of the anti–Contra War campaign, and contrasts perceptions of the campaign in Managua and Washington.

Peace shows how a variety of civic groups and networks—religious, leftist, peace, veteran, labor, women's rights—worked together in a decentralized campaign that involved extensive transnational cooperation.

This history of the Sandinista student movement is a window into the cultural milieu that produced a revolution where it seemed least likely to occur: among the youth of a country under the firm grip of a US-backed dictatorship whose power was secured by one of the best armed and most highly trained military forces in the region. By examining the articulation of political, gendered, and age-specific identities within the revolutionary process, Insurgent Youth sheds light on the everyday struggles of young Nicaraguans.

In the early 1970s a new emphasis on personal freedom and pleasure, under the influence of a global counterculture, challenged Sandinista gender ideology, especially masculinity, from within. This shift transformed the social world of Nicaraguan youth in general and Sandinista students in particular, eventually affecting the character of clandestine struggle and debates over revolutionary praxis within the Sandinista National Liberation Front (FSLN). Insurgent Youthshows how this new youth identity, which included the classic 1960s triumvirate of “sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll,” constituted a social vernacular among young Nicaraguans of all classes—a common language and array of social practices that ultimately aided FSLN recruitment efforts among working-class youth. At the same time, this new identity posed a danger to the movement in that it embodied a tacit questioning of both mainstream and Sandinista notions of gender and the political, bringing threatening class and ideological contradictions present within the movement to the surface.

Insurgent Youth places what was happening in Nicaragua into the context of the worldwide student movement, challenging patriarchy and colonialism in Latin America and across the globe. This deep dive into the Nicaraguan revolution and the youth culture surrounding it provides a unique perspective on, and understanding of, modern Latin American history.

For each era, Chavez reveals the ways Nicaraguan popular culture adapted and interpreted the new political order, shaping, critiquing, or amplifying the regime's message of stability and prosperity for the people. These tactics of interpretation, otherwise known as meaning-making, became all-important for the Nicaraguan people, as they opposed the autocracy of Somocismo, or complemented the Sandinistas, or struggled to find their place in the Neoliberal era. In every case, Chavez shows the reflective nature of cultural production and its pursuit of utopian idealism.

“I went to Nicaragua with nothing but a tourist visa, $1,500 in cash, the name of someone at the Agrarian Reform Ministry, and the idea of being a revolutionary intellectual. . . . The idea took hold in a simple character flaw: wanting to believe that I knew better than everyone else.” —From the preface

When Michael Johns joined a Sandinista militia in 1983, a fellow revolutionary dubbed him a rábano, a radish: red on the outside but white on the inside. Now, more than twenty-five years later, Johns appreciates the wisdom of that label as he revisits the questions of identity he tried to resolve by working with the Sandinistas at that point in his life. In The Education of a Radical, Johns recounts his immersion in Marxism and the Nicaraguan sojourn it led to, with a painful maturation process along the way.

His conversion began in college, where he joined a student group called the Latin American Solidarity Association and traveled to Chiapas, Mexico, for research on his senior thesis. Overwhelmed by the poverty he witnessed (and fascinated by a new friend named Maricela who was trying to turn peasants into revolutionaries and who carried a heavily highlighted copy of Late Capitalism), he experienced an ideological transformation. When a Marxist professor later encouraged him to travel to Nicaragua, the real internal battle began for him, a battle that was intensified by the U.S. invasion of Grenada and its effect on the Sandinistas, who believed they were the next target for an imminent American invasion. Before he knew it, Johns was digging trenches and learning how to use an AK-47. His intellectual ideals came face-to-face with revolutionary facts, and the results would perplex him for years to come.

Bringing to life a vivid portrait of the sometimes painful process of reconciling reality with romanticized principles, The Education of a Radical encapsulates a trove of truths about humanity, economics, and politics in one man’s memorable journey.