World
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Daddy’s boys
How much does one’s surname matter when it comes to gaining power in Latin America? And some dynasties are linked to the wave of pro-Trump governments

Keiko Fujimori has been President of Peru since 28 July. Her father, Alberto, held the post from 1990 to 2000 (Getty image)
César Bernardo Arévalo de León has been President of Guatemala since 14 January 2024. His father, Juan José Arévalo, served as President of Guatemala from 15 March 1945 to 15 March 1951. Rodrigo Paz Pereira has been President of Bolivia since 8 November 2025. His father, Jaime Paz Zamora, had served as President of Bolivia from 6 August 1989 to 6 August 1993. He was the son of a cousin of Víctor Paz Estenssoro: President of Bolivia from 15 April 1952 to 6 August 1956; from 6 August 1960 to 4 November 1964; and from 6 August 1985 to 6 August 1989. Keiko Sofía Fujimori Higuchi has been President of Peru since 28 July. Her father, Alberto Kenya Fujimori Inomoto, served as President of Peru from 28 July 1990 to 22 November 2000.
Then there is Daniel Roy Gilchrist Noboa Azín, President of Ecuador since 23 November 2023. His father, Álvaro Fernando Noboa Pontón, was never president. However, as heir to the family’s banana business, he is the richest man in Ecuador, and had stood for the presidency five times without ever being elected. In 1998, 2002 and 2006 he came second, in 2009 third and in 2013 fifth. In 2021, he had also submitted a sixth pre-candidacy, but it was rejected. He was also elected to the Constituent Assembly in 2007, but remained in office for only a few months before being removed for failing to submit his declaration of assets.
Luis Rodolfo Abinader Corona has been President of the Dominican Republic since 16 August 2020. Nor had his father, José Rafael Abinader Wasaf – a lawyer, writer, economist and wealthy entrepreneur in the tourism and construction sectors – ever been president. He had, however, served as a senator, Minister of Finance and Comptroller General, and had stood for the presidency three times.
He had, however, served as President of Uruguay from 1 March 1990 to 1 March 1995, Luis Alberto Lacalle de Herrera: father of Luis Alberto Alejandro Aparicio Lacalle Pou, who in turn served as president from 1 March 2020 to 1 March 2025; and his maternal grandfather had been Luis Alberto de Herrera y Quevedo, a historic leader of the same Partido Nacional as his grandson and great-grandson, and a seven-time presidential candidate. On 4 October, in the Brazilian presidential election, the main opponent of the incumbent president, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva – who is standing for the seventh time and seeking a fourth term – is the opposition senator Flávio Nantes Bolsonaro: son of Jair Messias Bolsonaro, who served as president from 1 January 2019 to 1 January 2023, but is barred from standing in this election. He has, in fact, been barred from holding public office and was convicted of plotting a coup d’état after losing the 2022 election; he is currently under house arrest.
“The ‘nepobabies’ come to power: a new generation,” ran the CNN headline, reusing a neologism that became popular in 2022, specifically to refer to the offspring of famous parents who, thanks to these family connections, have risen to prominence in the world of entertainment. In Italian we would say “daddy’s boys”, although this carries a connotation of ease that is perhaps not entirely appropriate for describing the journey of these figures who are rising to the highest offices in a troubled region such as Latin America. Both Arévalo and Paz Pereira, for example, were born in exile. Arévalo was born in Montevideo, Uruguay, where his father had gone following the coup supported by the CIA and United Fruit, which in 1954 had overthrown the government of his successor, Jacobo Arbenz Guzmán, who was linked to his own reformist project. Paz Pereira was born in Santiago de Compostela, Spain, to a Spanish mother whom her father had met in Brussels, where he was in exile from the dictatorship of General René Barrientos, under whose regime Che Guevara was killed. Her father had subsequently returned to Bolivia, but was then forced to flee again to Cuba and Chile, and would later survive, with serious injuries, an assassination attempt by the military regime of Luis García Meza. As for Keiko, her father served 10 years as president but also spent 16 years in prison, facing extremely serious allegations of human rights violations. Under a much-criticised amnesty, he was finally released just nine months before his death. Jair Bolsonaro, as mentioned, is also under house arrest.
As CNN observes, this new “wave” sweeping through Latin American politics “is not linked to the ideology or influence of President Donald Trump”. Or rather, there are two distinct waves, which do not, however, entirely overlap. Following the victories of Keiko Fujimori in Peru and Abelardo de la Espriella in Colombia, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio described it as an “extraordinary result” that the majority of governments in Latin America are now aligned with the United States. “In virtually every election held since he (Donald Trump) was elected president, a pro-American candidate has been elected, and I think this is an incredible situation,” said the US Secretary of State. Indeed, the inauguration of de la Espriella as President of Colombia on 7 August and the aforementioned inauguration of Keiko Fujimori on 28 July add two more countries to a list that has already seen the inauguration of Nayib Bukele in El Salvador on 1 June 2019, Santiago Peña in Paraguay on 15 August 2023, Daniel Noboa in Ecuador on 23 November 2023, Javier Milei in Argentina on 10 December 2023, José Raúl Mulino in Panama on 1 July 2024, Nasry Asfura in Honduras on 27 January 2026, José Antonio Kast in Chile on 11 March 2026 and Laura Fernández Delgado in Costa Rica on 8 May 2026. However, it is worth noting that only Keiko and Noboa feature on both the list of ‘daddy’s boys’ and that of the right-wing ‘wave’.
As noted, Arévalo and Paz Pereira, apart from being centrists, are both the sons of reformist presidents, although this reformism was viewed quite differently by the CIA. In Guatemala, as noted, United Fruit’s interests orchestrated the armed overthrow of Arévalo senior’s successor on charges of ‘communism’, although Mario Vargas Llosa explains in his penultimate novel that this was a slander, and that, if anything, it was outrage at the CIA’s actions that fuelled anti-US sentiment in Latin America and paved the way for communism. In Bolivia, by contrast, two years earlier the CIA had supported the revolution led by Paz Pereira’s great-uncle, who had carried out a radical agrarian reform and nationalised the tin mines. In addition, it had ‘Andean music’ invented as a symbol of national integration – music which, in the following decade, the Communist Party of Chile would promote in opposition to the right’s use of traditional Chilean music, and which, after Pinochet’s coup, would later become fashionable in Italy thanks to the exiles of Inti Illimani. The CIA’s original plan to prevent communism through reformist policies – such as the agrarian reforms in Italy and Japan – was often complicated both by shifts in policy between different administrations and by whether or not the interests of US multinationals were affected. Thus, for example, in Chile, the US initially supported the agrarian reform of the Christian Democrat Eduardo Frei; it then opposed the nationalisation of the copper industry under the socialist Salvador Allende, eventually going so far as to back the coup d’état of 11 September 1973.
This, however, did not prevent the Bolivian military from continuing to stage repeated coups even without US encouragement, in accordance with an age-old national tradition. Paz Pereira’s father was therefore an exile; he had a brother who died fighting as a Guevarist guerrilla; he was the victim of the aforementioned attack that left his face disfigured; He founded a party with the extremist name ‘Revolutionary Left Movement’ but was later admitted to the Socialist International; he served as vice-president in a popular front government and subsequently became president thanks to the support of a former right-wing military dictator. His son has now been elected as a Christian Democrat. Abinader, too, has inherited a social-democratic profile from his father. The Uruguayan Lacalle, on the other hand, was right-wing but not in the Trumpian sense, unlike Bolsonaro Jr.
What they have in common is that both the right-wing wave and the ‘daddy’s boys’ movement feature figures who present themselves as outsiders in relation to traditional political forces, including those on the right. It is the local manifestation of a trend affecting virtually all democracies, fuelled by an increasingly widespread sense of insecurity. This is not only linked to fears of crime and uncontrolled immigration, although these are certainly among the most significant factors. Paradoxically, however, even having a famous surname can help in this challenge, even though many of Latin America’s problems stem precisely from the oligarchic and nepotistic structure of society. It is the classic case of the snake biting its own tail. “In Latin America, family ties affect around 20 per cent of the politicians we have analysed,” Mónica Montaño, a researcher and coordinator of the Political and Electoral Observatory at the University of Guadalajara in Mexico, told CNN. “You could say that’s a lot or a little, but it’s significant. It’s still a field that isn’t fully professionalised and is subject to the advantages offered by family, the elite and networks of power,” she added. In short, “an elite operates with family capital, with all the advantages available to those who have grown up in a well-connected family, with a surname that carries a certain weight and prestige”. And in politics, as in marketing, having a well-known surname “is the first step in selling a product: how many people recognise the brand, and surnames become a brand. Being famous gives you an advantage over others”, even if it is a ‘logo’ that cannot always be managed in the same way.
For the 2023 election campaign, for example, Noboa Jr., who had already been elected to parliament in 2021, adopted a stance hostile to the Chavista president Rafael Correa that was similar to his father’s, but did not actively include him in his campaign events. Instead, he sought to project a younger, more modern image, with a technical, US-educated approach that was less populist. However, in an election campaign as short as that year’s – due to the ‘cross-dissolution’ decree by which Guillermo Lasso’s government called snap elections – having a well-known surname was crucial. Noboa also has a dual political heritage: his mother, the current MP Annabella Azín, served as a Member of Parliament for a few months in 2007 and heads the New Crusade for Humanity Foundation, whose medical brigades and community work represent significant social capital.
In the Peruvian case too, the surname Fujimori carried both advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, her supporters recalled the end of hyperinflation and the defeat of Shining Path. On the other, her rivals pointed to human rights violations or Transparency International’s ranking, which lists her among the most corrupt leaders. On three occasions, therefore, after reaching the run-off, Keiko was defeated by the combined forces hostile to her father, albeit with diminishing conviction each time. On the third occasion, in particular, when facing a left-wing opponent with Chavista leanings, she even had the support of Mario Vargas Llosa, her father’s arch-enemy. Thus, on the fourth attempt, she succeeded, albeit by a narrow margin. She had entered politics at a young age when her father appointed her First Lady following her mother’s separation; her mother, enraged by her husband’s extramarital affair, had even stood for election as a Member of Parliament for an opposition party. There was also a serious rift between Keiko and her brother, who formed his own party. Her stance on her father’s legacy has been one of shifting positions: at times she has championed it; at others, she has condemned his mistakes. But in the end, on the day of her inauguration, she set aside all reservations and, on social media, dedicated the event to his memory: ‘millions of people carry you in their hearts’.
Paz Pereira, on the other hand, has always drawn on his father’s influence, even though he stood as a candidate for a different party. Moreover, he had already begun his political career back in 2002: first as a member of parliament; then as a city councillor and mayor of Tarija; and finally as a senator. His 86-year-old father was not a constant presence during the election campaign, but he did appear at some events and in videos alongside his son, offering advice and emphasising the importance of experience. For his part, Paz Pereira upheld his father’s political legacy, whilst taking care to highlight his own professional background.
Arévalo also acknowledged in an interview that his surname “has opened doors and hearts”, but he emphasised: “I am not my father. I am following in his footsteps and I want us all to follow them, but I am not Juan José Arévalo, I am Bernardo Arévalo, and my task is to safeguard his legacy”. Abinader also acknowledges that he has inherited a political calling and that his father encouraged him to follow this path from a young age.
But the list is set to expand, breaking through on the left. In Argentina, MP Máximo Kirchner – son of two former presidents, Néstor Kirchner and the imprisoned Cristina Fernández de Kirchner – has been put forward as a possible Peronist candidate. In Honduras, the children of former presidents Manuel Zelaya and Xiomara Castro have been identified as potential contenders for the left. And there are also authoritarian contexts. In Nicaragua, with Daniel Ortega as president and his wife Rosario Murillo as co-president, no fewer than eight of their children have been placed in positions of power, despite a law that expressly prohibits the appointment of relatives within the fourth degree of consanguinity and the second degree of affinity to institutions run by public officials. In Cuba as well, the younger generation of the Castro family is at the forefront. Raúl Guillermo Rodríguez Castro, son of Raúl Castro’s eldest daughter, is officially his grandfather’s bodyguard, but in reality a businessman with diverse interests, who has now become one of the regime’s representatives with whom the Trump Administration is negotiating. Another figure involved in the negotiations with the Trump administration is Brigadier-General Alejandro Castro Espín, Raúl Castro’s only son. And then there is Óscar Pérez-Oliva Fraga, whose grandmother was an elder sister of Fidel and Raúl Castro: he is currently Deputy Prime Minister and Minister for Foreign Trade and Foreign Investment, and the architect of some of the economic reforms the regime is attempting to implement.