Adolfo Pérez Esquivel, Página12, 13/10 /2025
Translated
by Tlaxcala
I send you the greeting of Peace and Good, so greatly
needed by humanity and by peoples living amid poverty, conflict, war, and
hunger.
This open letter is meant to express and share a few reflections.
I was surprised by your designation as Nobel Peace
Prize laureate, awarded by the Nobel Committee. It brought back memories of the
struggles against dictatorships across our continent and in my own country —
the military dictatorships we endured from 1976 to 1983. We resisted prisons,
torture, and exile, with thousands of disappeared persons, abducted children,
and the death flights, of which I am a survivor.
In 1980, the Nobel Committee awarded me the Nobel
Peace Prize. Forty-five years have passed, and we continue working in service
of the poorest, alongside the peoples of Latin America. In their name, I
accepted that high distinction — not for the prize itself, but for the commitment
shared with the peoples who struggle and hope to build a new dawn.
Peace is built day by day, and we must be consistent between what we say and
what we do.
At 94, I remain a student of life, and your social and
political stances concern me. Therefore, I send you these reflections.
The Venezuelan government is a democracy with its
lights and shadows. Hugo Chávez charted the path of freedom and sovereignty for
his people and fought for continental unity — a reawakening of the Great
Homeland. The United States attacked him constantly: it cannot allow any
country in the Americas to escape its orbit and colonial dependence. It still
views Latin America as its “backyard.”
The U.S. blockade against Cuba, lasting over 60 years, is an attack on freedom
and the rights of peoples. The Cuban people’s resistance stands as a lesson in
dignity and strength.
I am astonished by how tightly you cling to the United
States: you must know that it has no allies or friends — only interests.
The dictatorships imposed in Latin America were orchestrated to serve its aims
of domination, destroying the social, cultural, and political life of peoples
striving for freedom and self-determination.
We, the peoples, resist and fight for our right to be free and sovereign, and
not colonies of the United States.
The government of Nicolás Maduro lives under the
constant threat of the United States and its blockade — one need only recall
the U.S. naval forces stationed in the Caribbean and the danger of invasion.
You have not uttered a word, nor condemned this interference by a great power
against Venezuela. Yet the Venezuelan people are ready to face the threat.
Corina, I ask you: why did you call on the United
States to invade Venezuela?
Upon learning of your Nobel Peace Prize, you dedicated it to Trump — the
aggressor of your own country, the man who lies and accuses Venezuela of being
a narco-state, a falsehood akin to George Bush’s claim that Saddam Hussein
possessed “weapons of mass destruction.”
That was the pretext to invade Iraq, plunder it, and cause thousands of deaths
among women and children.
I was in Baghdad at the end of the war, in a children’s hospital, and saw with
my own eyes the destruction and death caused by those who proclaim themselves
defenders of freedom.
The worst form of violence is the lie.
Do not forget, Corina, that Panama was invaded by the
United States, causing death and destruction to capture a former ally, General
Noriega.
The invasion left 1,200 dead in Los Chorrillos.
Today, the U.S. once again seeks to reclaim control of the Panama Canal.
It is a long list of U.S. interventions and suffering inflicted upon Latin
America and the world.
The veins of Latin America remain open, as Eduardo Galeano once wrote.
I am troubled that you dedicated your Nobel not to
your people, but to the aggressor of Venezuela.
I believe, Corina, you must reflect and understand where you stand — whether
you are merely another piece in the U.S. colonial system, submissive to its
interests of domination, which can never serve the good of your people.
As an opponent of the Maduro government, your stances and choices create much
uncertainty, especially when you call for a foreign invasion of your homeland.
Remember that building peace requires great strength
and courage for the good of your people — a people I know and deeply love.
Where once there were shantytowns clinging to the hills, surviving in poverty
and destitution, there are now decent homes, healthcare, education, and culture.
The dignity of a people cannot be bought or sold.
Corina, as the poet* says:
“Traveler, there is no path; the path is made by
walking.”
You now have the chance to work for your people and
build peace, not provoke greater violence.
One evil cannot be cured by a greater evil: we would have two evils and never a
solution.
Open your mind and your heart to dialogue, to meeting
your people.
Empty the jug of violence and build peace and unity among your people, so that
the light of freedom and equality may finally enter.
*Another Machado, named Antonio (no relation to Mrs. María Corina) [Transl. n.]