Q COSTA RICA — His tenure is now secure following his unanimous reelection for the next four years as the country’s Attorney General. So, it can also be a time to take off the gloves, so to speak.
On Monday, all 21 magistrates of the Full Court reelected Carlo Díaz to head the Fiscalía (Prosecutor’s Office), entrusting him to continue his fight against corruption in government and organized crime.
Díaz was one of the members of the Judiciary who did not attend the opening of the Centro de Alta Contención del Crimen Organizado (Cacco)—Center for the High Containment of Organized Crime—Costa Rica’s new high-security prison.
Days after the event, President Laura Fernández was critical of Díaz and the other members of the Judiciary who had kept quiet until yesterday, when Díaz broke the silence to defend his decision not to attend.
Díaz offered two explanations, mainly for what he described as a hostile political environment at the Cacco ceremony.
“Would you attend an event or a dinner where you know you are going to be insulted or hear things like those expressed there?” Díaz said, according to CR Hoy. “I would not go to a house where I am going to be offended, where I will not even be able to respond or express myself about what is being said to me.”
Díaz called the president’s remarks “very serious” and unacceptable. He also framed the dispute as part of a broader concern about the use of political power and the treatment of independent institutions.
The headline of the CR Hoy report reflects the central point of his response: “The one who abuses power is just as much a criminal as the one who steals.”
The statement does not equate every form of political disagreement with a criminal offense. Rather, it signals Díaz’s argument that corruption and abuses of authority can damage the state just as severely as conventional crimes.
A dispute larger than one missed ceremony
At first glance, the controversy concerns a single official’s absence from a prison-infrastructure event. The deeper conflict is institutional.
The Cacco project is closely associated with the government’s public-security agenda. A ceremony celebrating new high-containment facilities offered the administration an opportunity to project control over organized crime and to rally political support around tougher prison measures. Díaz’s absence disrupted that message, especially because the Public Prosecutor’s Office plays a central role in investigating and prosecuting the criminal networks the facilities are intended to contain.
The president’s criticism appears to have turned a scheduling issue into a public confrontation between the executive branch and the country’s chief prosecutor. Díaz’s response, in turn, recast the absence as a matter of institutional dignity and independence.
That distinction matters. Government officials may expect cooperation from judicial authorities at events tied to national security, but cooperation is not the same as political alignment. A prosecutor who appears beside the executive at a high-profile ceremony can be seen as endorsing the government’s policies. A prosecutor who stays away may be accused of disrespect or obstruction. Either choice carries political consequences.
Díaz’s explanation seeks to establish that his absence was neither indifference toward public safety nor hostility toward the prison project. He was engaged in an international meeting focused on organized crime, he said, and he deliberately avoided an event where he believed he would be publicly attacked without a fair chance to respond.
The significance of the power-abuse warning
Díaz’s language also points to a familiar democratic tension: the danger that the fight against crime becomes a justification for weakening institutional checks.
Prison expansion and tougher security policies can respond to genuine public concerns, particularly when organized crime places pressure on courts, communities, and law-enforcement agencies. Yet those policies still require oversight. The executive branch controls government policy and administration; prosecutors and courts are expected to apply the law independently.
When officials accuse one another of criminality, the public debate can quickly become personal. That may energize supporters, but it can also obscure the more important question: are public institutions operating within their legal authority, and are they able to criticize one another without retaliation?