Candidate Luisa González of the Citizens' Revolution (left) and current Ecuadorian President Daniel Noboa (right). Photo: Alejandro Baque/Zuma Press/ ContactoPhoto.
By Abraham Verduga — April 14, 2025
This text does not seek to hide its place of enunciation. It was written in the heat of the moment, with my heart pounding with a sense of injustice that is impossible to conceal. There is no pretense of neutrality; there is urgency. An ethical and political need to understand what seems inexplicable, to put into words a collective indignation. The fraud of April 13 was not an electoral anecdote; it was a structural, violent operation designed to break the democratic will of the Ecuadorian people.
At the time of writing this, I am still awaiting—with both expectation and skepticism—the reports from the international observers. There are too many doubts about the voting gap, statistical inconsistencies, and atypical behavior. Exercising legal mechanisms to demand transparency does not mean not recognizing the results; it means defending democracy. And it is with this commitment that I write, with pain, but with intellectual honesty.
The liminal as a juncture
We are living—as someone who knew how to interpret the cracks in time would say—a liminal moment, a threshold between two historical orders. In Ecuador, that threshold expressed itself as an institutional collapse: an election that, more than a democratic celebration, was the crowning of an authoritarian model. On April 13, 2025, not only did people vote, but they witnessed a staged event where the rules were systematically bent to guarantee the victory of power.
This isn’t a neutral analysis, but it is a rigorous one. Democracy isn’t just about voting. It’s about voting on equal terms, without fear, without cheating or manipulation. None of that was guaranteed.
Structural fraud: when the rules are already broken
The Inter-American Court of Human Rights has made it clear: it is not necessary to manipulate records for fraud to exist. It is enough for the principle of fairness to be systematically violated. And that is exactly what happened:
- The presidential candidate did not request leave, violating the Constitution and using the state apparatus as an electoral campaign machine.
- The vice president-elect was illegally removed from office, and the principle of succession was impeded.
- Opposition leaders were prosecuted, and the candidate projected to finish third in the first round was disqualified.
- A state of emergency was declared the day before the vote, disrupting venues and causing confusion.
- The electoral rules were changed in the middle of the campaign, with the support of co-opted institutions.
This was not a free election. It was an authoritarian device for political control. A structural fraud, planned and executed with precision by a regime that no longer conceals its anti-democratic nature.
The device of hate as a technique of power
The current president didn’t win because he touched the people, but because he represented, for a moment, the empty signifier of hatred. His figure is fragile, lacking political depth, a track record, and a program; but, he effectively embodied anti-politics and anti-Correismo. In a country indoctrinated by unscrupulous media, where hatred has become the dominant common sense, his hollow rhetoric was functional.
The campaign was a digital war: bots, trolls, AI generating fake news, fake audio, sowing fear, stigmatizing. All of this was part of a communications operation aimed at suppressing critical thinking and defusing debate. There was no confrontation of ideas, just emotional manipulation.
The thinkers of hegemony warned: political struggle is also waged in the symbolic realm. And that is where the electoral process has deteriorated the most.
The comprador foreman and the celebration of the chains
There is a heartbreaking scene that runs through the history of peoples: that of the oppressed celebrating their oppression. The Ecuadorian people, battered by the crisis, embraced their executioner. Noboa behaved like a taskmaster: authoritarian, vertical, vengeful. His figure appeals to punishment rather than a governing horizon. And yet, he was elected.
But that doesn’t mean he has hegemony. He has institutional power, yes, but not a lasting social consensus. Anti-Correismo isn’t a positive adherence; it’s a reaction. And any policy based on reaction is destined to erode.
The crisis, as Gramsci said from prison, is precisely when the old doesn’t die and the new isn’t born. Today, Ecuador is trapped in that interregnum.
Politics to emancipate: form, unite, resist
First reflection: there is no revolution without revolutionary subjects. Progressivism cannot be content with simply resisting. It must educate, raise awareness, challenge common sense. That has been my political obsession: education as a strategic axis. Paradoxically, fake audio recordings are now circulating where I supposedly criticize this approach. The politics of fake news never rest, not even when it tries to supplant the most coherent things we have defended.
Building a people means teaching people to dream, generating convictions, and developing critical individuals. That is the only path to lasting transformation.
Second reflection: unity is tested in defeat. The left cannot afford fractures at this moment. Today more than ever, we must safeguard the process of national-popular convergence, which has managed to articulate diverse sectors, with distinct traditions, but with a shared vocation for justice. Luisa González is the most powerful symbol of that effort.
Colombia’s President Petro: ‘I Cannot Recognize Elections in Ecuador’
Luisa González: historic leadership in an adverse context
What Luisa has done in this electoral process transcends the outcome. A woman in a patriarchal system. A progressive in a context of hate. A peacemaker in a polarized country. She achieved what seemed impossible: building bridges between different forces, between generations, between scattered memories. Her leadership has been inspiring, courageous, and inclusive. Her campaign was a defense of national dignity and democratic values, even beyond ideologies. And, above all, an example of temperance.
Luisa didn’t just lead a candidacy: she sustained a historic process of democratic resistance. And she did so without losing her tenderness, without losing her clarity. Today, more than ever, she deserves our support and our trust. Because her sensitivity isn’t a weakness: it’s an essential political strength.
Against cynicism: memory and dignity
This process wasn’t clean. It wasn’t legitimate. And it shouldn’t be normalized. Documenting it, denouncing it, and organizing against it isn’t an emotional reaction; it’s a democratic demand. As someone who contemplated history from the ruins warned: “Not even the dead will be safe if the enemy wins.”
Democracy isn’t a formality. It’s a permanent struggle. Ecuador still has memory. And that memory is the first step toward getting back on track.
Notes:
- Gramsci, Antonio. Prison Notebooks.
- Laclau, Ernesto. The Populist Reason.
- García Linera, Álvaro. Plebeian Power: Collective Action and Indigenous, Working-Class and Popular Identities in Bolivia.
- Inter-American Court of Human Rights. Advisory opinions and jurisprudence: www.corteidh.or.cr.
Abraham Verduga is an Ecuadorian lawyer, author of the book “Lawfare for All” and founder of La Kolmena.
(Diario Red)
Translation: Orinoco Tribune
OT/JRE/AU
