How Miss Universe Sheynnis Palacios Threatens Nicaraguan President Daniel Ortega’s Regime
Conventionally, beauty pageants are apolitical: they are designed to focus on women’s beauty, cultural pride, and empowerment. Indeed, Miss Universe, the most acclaimed global beauty pageant, describes itself as a “safe space” for women to celebrate their national identity and amplify their leadership. Yet, for me, watching beauty pageants in Nicaragua was an escape from what felt like living in a political prison.
Nicaragua is governed by socialist dictator Daniel Ortega. Prior to his ascension to leadership, Ortega played a major role in the Sandinista National Liberation Front (Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional or FSLN). When the FSLN became a political party in 1961, it assumed a red and black flag. In 1984, the FSLN won its first fair election under Ortega. Despite losing reelection in 1990, Ortega returned to power in 2007. Since then, he has governed through increasingly undemocratic means. Ortega’s regime has even placed the FSLN flag alongside Nicaragua’s blue and white founding flag as equally representative markers of the nation.
However, the colors of the founding flag—blue and white—have been adopted by a growing opposition movement seeking to challenge the repressive status quo under Ortega’s regime. Recent events have made the totalitarian nature of the status quo self-evident. In 2018, Ortega attempted to impose social security reforms that would have cut overall pensions. Nicaraguans responded with widespread protests, marching with blue and white flags. Ortega’s brutal crackdown of these peaceful demonstrations led to the tragic loss of over 300 lives. The United Nations likened Ortega’s human rights violations in 2018 to those of the Nazis. That year, Ortega censored major media outlets that reported on the violence against protestors. Yet, there were some national figures who used their social media platforms to publicly oppose Ortega’s propaganda and censorship. One of them was Sheynnis Palacios.
Palacios is a major public figure in Nicaragua. She is a beauty queen, a journalist, and an engaged activist. In 2018, Palacios staunchly opposed Ortega’s dehumanization of and brutality against Nicaraguans. She was one of the few national figures who did not fear posting pictures of the blue and white flag on Facebook. More importantly, she protested with us the people. With a massive platform and a clear political voice in a small country dictated by constant fear, Palacios became a symbol of defiance against Ortega’s oppressive measures. That year, the blue and white flag became a symbol to overthrow Ortega’s regime.
Palacios continued her activism on the global Miss Universe stage, where more than 122 million viewers witnessed her final walk across the stage adorned in a blue and white dress. When I saw this, I knew it would threaten Ortega. Her dress embodied the oppression and subjugation Nicaraguans face daily, but, more importantly, it represented their ongoing resistance. By wearing a blue and white dress, Palacios became a political threat to Ortega’s power and stability. Her influence both domestically and internationally affects public trust in Ortega’s regime by giving visibility to the opposition, a precarious position for Ortega’s regime following its 2018 crackdowns. This influence speaks to the issue of regime legitimacy, where Palacios’s popularity and public support suggest that a considerable portion of us view her leadership and vision for Nicaragua as more credible or desirable than Ortega’s. Her democratic views and deliberate decision to not be a mouthpiece for the regime expose the challenges Ortega faces in maintaining the legitimacy of his rule. With Palacios embodying the values and aspirations of many Nicaraguans, her presence and actions signify a significant rift between Ortega’s authority and the genuine will of the people.
Indeed, when Palacios was crowned Miss Universe, Nicaraguans went to the streets to celebrate, rallying with the blue and white flag, singing the national anthem, and making murals. I also rallied with my blue and white flag in my dorm on that historic day. It was the first time Nicaragua took home the crown. It was the first time in a long time that we Nicaraguans had a moment of joy. It was the first time in a long time that something good had happened in Nicaragua. Palacios did something that transcended Ortega’s dominion: she brought hope to Nicaragua and united its people. Her victory even encouraged other prominent pro-Ortega figures like Xiomara Blandino, Ortega’s daughter-in-law, to celebrate publicly.
The crown, however, also brought misfortune. Ortega persecuted Palacios and Miss Nicaragua franchise director Karen Celebertti for protesting the 2018 crackdown. His administration accused Celebertti of participating in an “anti-homeland conspiracy” and acts related to “terrorist financing” to overthrow the government. Celebertti was exiled with her daughter. Her husband and son were incarcerated and later exiled, too. Nicaraguans who made murals celebrating Palacios were also incarcerated. To this day, it is unknown whether Palacios will ever return to Nicaragua, as she has firmly rejected Ortega’s request to publicly testify in favor of his regime. Nevertheless, she continues to perform her role as Miss Universe, living in New York City for one year and touring other countries.
Celebertti’s exile and Palacios’s refusal to testify prove that Ortega indeed views Palacios as a political threat to his regime. Ortega’s dictatorship thrives on infusing fear into the people and perpetuating censorship in the media. However, Palacios has become a metonymic figure for the real Nicaragua. She is a symbol of resistance in the face of authoritarianism. She has used her platform as an outlet for activism. Her dress’s symbolism, her connection to the public, and Miss Universe’s crown give our country hope.
In a place where women are subjugated and where fear is constantly perpetuated, Palacios offers something new: the possibility of a future defined not by oppression or censorship, but by liberty and dignity. She is a reminder to dream bigger, to cling to hope for strength, and to always be proud of the blue and white colors Ortega has tried to rob us of.
José Caballero (CC ’26) is a staff writer for CPR, studying cognitive science. He is interested in examining governmental decision-making accuracy and Latin America’s regime legitimacy.