Remembering José Pepe Mujica: A Life of Humility and Integrity
José Pepe Mujica passed away on Tuesday at the age of 89. The news, confirmed by Uruguay's President Yamandú Orsi, was not entirely unexpected given Mujica's deteriorating health in recent months, yet it still struck a deep chord. Mujica was one of those rare figures whose presence felt eternal.
In January, with characteristic clarity, he reflected on his life, aware that the end was near. Leaving this world was no easy task for Mujica. Not even after surviving six gunshots or enduring ten years of imprisonment under inhumane conditions—confined for long stretches in a cell barely one square meter in size. To cope with such isolation, he domesticated frogs and fed mice, engaging in conversations with himself, emerging from those dark times without hatred. His singular goal was not vengeance but service to others.
Mujica's political journey began in clandestinity and culminated with his presidency. He was a leader of the Tupamaros, a prisoner, a fugitive, a senator, Minister of Livestock, and eventually the head of state. It was a transition, not a conversion—moving from the rifle to the bench, from resistance to democracy. Throughout all these roles, Mujica remained consistently austere, brutally honest, and dedicated to his principles.
Serving as president from 2010 to 2015, he turned his modest farm in Rincón del Cerro into a powerful symbol of a politics grounded in reality—not privilege. He famously refused to occupy the official presidential residence, donated a significant portion of his salary, and continued driving his old 1987 Volkswagen Beetle. Welcoming world leaders with mate in hand and his three-legged dog wandering at his feet, his leadership style was marked by directness and a lack of pretentious rhetoric.
Mujica once stated, "They say I'm a poor president. The poor are those who need much." He embodied a philosophy that challenged many to reflect on the true meaning of wealth: living simply, speaking plainly, and governing with integrity. His legacy is highlighted by progressive laws that put Uruguay on the map, including the legalization of same-sex marriage, the decriminalization of abortion in the first twelve weeks, and Uruguay becoming the first country worldwide to regulate the production and sale of cannabis by the State.
These reforms emerged not from ideology but from a practical belief that the State should guarantee rights and treat citizens as adults. Despite his government maintaining economic stability and reducing unemployment and poverty, Mujica openly admitted that he didn't accomplish everything he intended, particularly in public education.
His capacity to acknowledge his limitations earned him respect even among critics. Following his death, a wave of condolences surged from around the world, reflecting the significant impact Mujica had. From Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, who called him a great friend, to Chilean President Gabriel Boric, who recognized him as a beacon of hope in difficult times, reactions poured in from all corners.
Even figures from the ideological right expressed their respect. Alberto Núñez Feijóo remarked on Mujica's cordiality, despite differences. Such a breadth of respect speaks volumes about Mujica’s rare ability to achieve sincere recognition from opponents—a complete rarity in politics.
Retiring from active politics in 2018, Mujica handed over his Senate seat with a profound acknowledgment of his journey's toll. Following a cancer diagnosis, he vowed to fight, but the toll of treatment left him weary. He chose not to fight merely for survival and expressed his desire to be buried at his farm alongside his beloved dog, Manuela, under a sequoia planted in 2018.
Mujica sought no grand tributes or speeches. "Honestly, I’m dying," he said, encapsulating his wish to be remembered not as a myth but for who he truly was. He inspired the belief that another kind of politics is not only possible but essential; that honesty is a governing tool rather than a mere moral attribute; and that true sobriety embodies freedom rather than deprivation.
"Life is the adventure of molecules," Mujica once philosophized. "We come from nothing and go to nothing. The only thing we have is this moment, and it’s worth living it with meaning." His legacy will undoubtedly live on, encouraging future generations to strive for a politics filled with service, honesty, and genuine respect for humanity.
Related Sources: