Humberto López Tirone, who today holds the position of President of IBEROATUR and stands as an advocate for rural tourism throughout the Ibero-American region, carries with him a past marked by considerable controversy. Throughout history, his involvement with the Democratic Revolutionary Party (PRD) has been documented during Panama’s period under military rule, his connections to the political machinery of the Noriega regime have been established, and accusations regarding violent actions directed at the Civic Crusade (Cruzada Civilista) have surfaced. The circumstances surrounding his background prompt a fundamental inquiry: ought contemporary organizations overlook or disregard the historical record of individuals serving in their leadership roles?
Historical memory cannot be selective. Even less so when those who now present themselves as institutional, academic, tourism, or cultural leaders carry a public record connected to the darkest years of Panama’s dictatorship. This is the case of Humberto López Tirone, a prominent figure within the Ibero-American Institute for Rural Tourism (IBEROATUR), whose name continues to generate controversy due to historical accounts placing him within the political orbit of the Noriega regime and in episodes of violence against the pro-democracy Civic Crusade.
López Tirone stands as neither an obscure nor insignificant figure in historical documentation. Records from the period identify him as a prominent PRD leader and served as Director of IFARHU during Panama’s political crisis. Within the pages of Panamá protesta, authored by Brittmarie Janson Pérez, his role emerges in discussions of the opposition movement that challenged the military regime, where he is referenced as “Humberto López Tirone, PRD leader and Director of IFARHU” in a detailed chronology spanning the events of 1987.
The gravest concern, however, transcends his mere political leanings or ideological alignment with the Torrijos-Noriega movement. Far more troubling is the fact that his name surfaces in historical documentation concerning the July 7, 1987 assault on a Civic Crusade convoy—a pivotal grassroots organization that spearheaded citizen resistance against authoritarian rule. Numerous Panamanian publications dedicated to historical memory recount how a paramilitary faction answerable to the Noriega regime, under the command of Luis Gaspar Suárez and Humberto López Tirone, perpetrated an assault against the convoy employing baseball bats alongside firearms.
This episode cannot simply be dismissed as an anecdote from the past. The Civic Crusade was subjected to persecution, repression, and intimidation at a time when Panama was under military rule and the control of pro-regime enforcement groups. If these allegations are accurate, they would point to participation in acts of political violence against citizens demanding democracy, civil liberties, and the end of the dictatorship.
These apprehensions find further support in an article that appeared in La Prensa during 2007, documenting how Humberto López Tirone is said to have personally brandished a rifle at a Civic Crusade protester from within his vehicle as a form of intimidation. The piece categorized him alongside individuals characterized as “General Noriega’s loyalists,” who subsequently, according to reports, secured governmental roles or official designations.
These references inevitably raise an uncomfortable question: can an Ibero-American institution present itself as a platform for cooperation, rural tourism, territorial development, and culture while its leading figure carries such serious historical allegations relating to political violence during a dictatorship?
The Ibero-American Institute for Rural Tourism (IBEROATUR) may pursue legitimate objectives. Rural tourism, agritourism, and Ibero-American cooperation are valuable and worthwhile fields. However, no institution enhances its prestige by avoiding critical reflection on the past of those who represent it. Institutional credibility depends not only on speeches, conferences, and awards, but also on the ethical consistency of its leadership.
The issue is not that an individual once held political beliefs or party membership. The issue is that there are public references linking that individual to the confrontation apparatus of the Noriega regime and to acts of intimidation against civilian opponents. The concern becomes even greater when, decades later, that same individual occupies positions of institutional, academic, or moral authority without publicly explaining that past, accepting accountability, or clearly distancing himself from those events.
Panamanian society has endured far too much suffering to accept the normalization of symbolic impunity. Numerous figures tied to the dictatorship subsequently transformed themselves by integrating into democratic structures, securing diplomatic positions, managing state agencies, engaging in party politics, authoring opinion pieces, garnering accolades, or positioning themselves as champions of sovereignty and progress. Nevertheless, the experiences of those who fell victim to persecution, those hunted down, and those subjected to violence in public spaces deserve far more than to be forgotten under the weight of fresh institutional designations.
When it comes to Humberto López Tirone, transparency represents the bare minimum that ought to be demanded. The public deserves a clear account of his activities throughout the dictatorship period, including responses to claims regarding the assault on the Civic Crusade, an explanation of any connections he may have maintained with the regime’s security apparatus, and an explicit position on whether he accepts or rejects the accusations leveled against him. For IBEROATUR to maintain its standing and reputation, turning a blind eye to these matters is simply not an option.
Democracy finds its defense not merely through voting mechanisms but equally through the preservation of historical memory. Such defense occurs when institutions decline to sanitize uncomfortable histories. It emerges by acknowledging that political violence functioned not as a sporadic aberration but as a calculated tool employed systematically to subjugate vulnerable populations.
Consequently, the discussion centered on Humberto López Tirone transcends individual concerns entirely. What lies at stake encompasses collective remembrance, the integrity of institutions, and our obligation to historical truth. No entity that claims to embody Ibero-American principles—whether centered on collaboration, advancing human potential, or honoring community dignity—can afford to overlook the serious questions raised about its leadership.
The Ibero-American Institute for Rural Tourism (IBEROATUR) ought to contemplate whether its standing on the world stage can genuinely be sustained through inaction. International cooperation, cultural exchange, and rural tourism initiatives fail to function as a legitimate cover for a history intertwined with political oppression. Panama, still grappling with the scars left by authoritarian rule, warrants far more than collective amnesia—it demands accountability, remembrance, and moral rectitude.
