›

›

›

›

›

›

Sunday 01 December 2002

Am I just a poster boy for losers?

There it was, my very own face, on Wednesday morning’s front page of the leading newspaper in the land, La Nacion. A megaphone was fixed to a voice of obvious dissent; I looked so very sincere.

Lumped together, the obvious question on many minds was that the victims of these two enterprising men were at the end of their line.

Various vultures viewed.

With no more access to our “allowance” every months’ end, how could we continue to play in paradise? Could it be time to get our books and go back to school (to pick up the pieces, learn the lessons, and start over again)?

How could all of this so suddenly have happened?

How indeed could two planes topple trade centers? How could entire financial infrastructures to the south of us fall apart overnight?

We live in an eggshell-fragile world.

What is it that lingers now, with only a scant time of retrospect to cast back over? I suppose for me it would remain the question of that man himself.

Enrique has now been categorized as a fugitive at large. He is ducking his government, and on this rainy Saturday morning, they now covet custody of this suddenly suspected “criminal mastermind.” It is easily understood by most that the hopes of those who are out their fortunes would be grayer than the clouds that produce this steady morning downpour here in the valley.

But where is he? Where is the other guy, for that matter? These are questions that are still to be pondered, perpetuated over in our minds.

More so, what is he? That’s the more interesting part to me. It’s now obvious that our ongoing suspicion of that big Cuban fellow is that he is, straight up, what our sub-conscious mind collectively was preaching to us he was: a con man, a scam artist, a crook, and all of that.

To our great shock, that appears to be the case with some of his innermost circle, too.

But Enrique?

He’s another story.

A few friends and I have been working on what you might call our 5000-piece puzzle of the man. Looking at it from this point, there’s still no clear image coming out at us yet. But pieces are falling into place, as we composite and profile the man, and his illusive operations. 

Somewhere in the late 70’s he surfaced. His beginnings were obscure. Connected to all manner of military operations in thick jungles north of here, he also clearly showed a propensity with money from early on. 

Just how was he part of a U.S. CIA operation, and what was his role in Nicaragua in the Contra affairs, along with the Oliver North connection and the works, is only part of the puzzle; there is some of that, perhaps, that still applies to the current time and place.

He is associated with so many enterprises from that time, as well as the ones that rose out of them as the man invented and re-invented himself. And his magic with money spun off in other directions, near and far. 

How does a man, I ask, go on such a terrific 25-year roll, managing to cause virtually no one to become too disillusioned or upset with him, and in the process amass such a polished reputation as a fair, honest, caring individual?

And with the volume of dollars involved, imagine whom among us in the day-to-day world in which we circulate, could ever pull of such a feat on this magnitude?

So he is, from the start, and in the least, a unique being...

In the late 80’s, still, I am told that he was living the “worldly” life. This seems to have involved women, and wine, and who knows what else. But somewhere along his uniquely spiritual path, he “found God,” through “Jesus, his only begotten son.” A new dimension was thickening within Enrique’s mind. He was detailing himself still more fully. He was elevating his moral perspective.

Perhaps this is for all of us to do things like that?   

Meeting in hired halls, he launched his effort to build a temple, and it rose up from the ground to the West of San Jose a few years ago. There, I am told, he sang with more exuberance than just about anyone in the congregation. And worshipped his God. 

From what bouquet of faith was this man? Although most of the country remains Catholic to this day, Enrique seemed to go off in an Evangelical, conservative, radical right-wing direction. He is a Baptist, Jewish-supporting, bible-toting (you could grab a free bible anytime you went in for your manila envelope of money) born-again believer. Could his failure to align with more powerful religious affiliations have proven a problem? That’s one angle, but only one of many. 

Regardless, a few more pieces of the puzzle fall into place.

If you had met him, you would confront what seemed to be a humble, loving, God-fearing, personal man. And although many of his employees say he ran his businesses in a military-like fashion, no one seems to have an ill word to speak of him.

Communing, from time to time, with Enrique, I sensed I was at home.

In stark contrast, personally sitting around a table with the Cuban on a few occasions, I got the impression I was in the presence of the grandiose. Everything was in impeccable order. He was another type of man altogether. 

Remember the “Jimmy’s?” – those two bible-toting preachers (Bakker and Sweigart) from a former time? They made people feel good too, but in a far different manner and style. With my own seminary background to reference, their “fall” came as no personal surprise; it was predicted, inevitable.

When the “jack in the box” popped on Enrique’s world, it was regrettable. 

Everything I have known about this person, including when I first met him, and extending on through until this rain-filled morning, has pointed me in the direction of a man who is not like other men. He is on another plane of being. As such, I must ask you, “Has he swindled us? Run off with the loot?” No – the money, though not the mechanism, remains intact.

Will we see it? More likely yes…I think we will see some of it, or all of it, or more than all of it (interest), but likely not for some time to come.

And I don’t blame all the authorities – they are looking at just what is obvious to them, and doing their best job in trying to assimilate the information. Having had a long personal meeting with a prosecuting attorney on the case just yesterday, I came out feeling that she was both responsible and informed.  

Just how does he make his money? Well I can suggest to you that unlike most of us, he doesn’t pursue money for money’s sake; it’s not the almighty dollar that makes Enrique wake up at the same time every day, bright and early, and go about his sacred set of tasks.

He’s somewhere else, and by that I don’t mean Nicaragua or Europe or Panama or Romania. I mean in his mind; he has a far bigger picture in mind.

What is that picture, and what does it include and not include? Let’s talk about that for a moment.

Drugs? Not in this lifetime. You don’t know him if you pursue this line of reasoning. It doesn’t begin to fit the profile. 

Fraud? Yes, fraud. But trumped, and only beginning from Independence Day of this year, some 25 years after his inception. Fraud comes upon the point of him being impeded in this anonymous, silent unfolding of he and his business pursuits. With stacks and stacks of paper mounting up on his daily, we now have the makings of a solid fraud case. But remember when it started. By their own admission, they didn’t have one sheet of paper on his before the fireworks went off this past summer.

Political turmoil? No doubt. With past and recent administrations, there was much harmony. More than, in fact, we know. Enrique was plugged in deeply into security interests of his country, and up until very recently. 

With this present ruling regime, the past magic is just not there. And, more than we know at this point, this has not been an insignificant problem. Mr. Pacheco, whom in many ways one has to respect, has said there is nothing he can do to help him, or us.

Really?

What about those banking violations? Let’s cut to the chase: When the law is gray, it is incumbent on that law to make it black and white again. In the meanwhile, brilliant men have the tendency to work in the middle of such ambiguities. SUGEF’s top gun says he’s a bad apple, and he also says the banking laws need massive reforming…

Did you read between those lines like I did?

How does he make our money? He does it honestly, and by the book. I introduced two people to him during the past four years. One, he readily accepted; my former secretary, I had known her for 12 years. The other, a simply wonderful man, a retired high-school teacher from southern Florida whom I had known for a year and a half, was turned down.

Enrique said, “I want to help him Michael,” but “you just don’t know him well enough.” One hundred thousand dollars was passed upon. 

So then why was trying to collect money so feverishly at the end? Last minute kill? I say no; not just for merely stealing, and neither to have enough so that “Peter could pay Paul.” Can the “other” guy say that? 

Enrique was still in growth mode. He was trying to modernize, to gear up for yet a new re-invention of his higher purpose.

On one level, at least, he still is. Though the faucet, at the source, is clearly jammed shut for now. 

Deep down, why does he do what he does? What makes him tick? Enrique, to me, is following a God-directed path for his own personal evolution and unfolding. In each of our lives, we all do this, to degrees. As I profile the man, I can see this emerging within him, for some time now, and still to the present time. 

So, and finally, did I (do I?) feel ashamed to be represented in an increasingly diminishing crowd, who in the light of current events, no longer know if they can feel good in their heart of hearts about this man? No, not at all.

I remain confident of my good friend Enrique, and continue to ask openly to one and all a simple question of just what proof can you give me that might cause me to lay down my bullhorn, and come out with my hands up?

I’m waiting…

To my mind, no one has caused me to waiver on that point yet. And no matter what the outcome is, I remain a poster boy for the man – whether it unravels in the end to be a scenario of a “win,” a “lose,” or a “draw.”

I have never minded saying that, “I was wrong.” Those are in fact all-too familiar words to me. But to this point, a very careful examination of his life has yet to give me no other choice but remain one of his louder voices of dissent.

Michael J. Nystrom-Schut