Daniel Noboa was nowhere to be seen. And, yet, he was everywhere.
On balconies. In the arms of various supporters. In the back of a truck. Cardboard cutouts of Mr. Noboa, Ecuador’s president, were ubiquitous at an election rally in a suburb of Quito, the capital, on Wednesday, as they are in many parts of the country.
They even appear in different outfits — a suit and presidential sash, a T-shirt and jeans, a tank top and gym shorts.
The posters are part of the president’s successful communication strategy ahead of Sunday’s election: short on specific policy proposals but strong on mastery of social media and viral trends to project an image of youth and vigor to Ecuador’s voters, the majority of whom are younger than 44.
Supporters and detractors alike have even taken to saying, “The cardboard is going to win.”
Mr. Noboa, 37, took office just 15 months ago, after his predecessor called for early elections amid the threat of impeachment over embezzlement accusations.
In his short term, he has faced a slew of national and international controversies, an energy crisis, a feud with his vice president, persistent drug-related violence and unemployment.
He has also been criticized by opponents and analysts for what they describe as strongman tendencies, including abusing his presidential powers in the name of combating violence and corruption.
And, yet, polls show, Mr. Noboa, a center-right politician, is the leading candidate in Sunday’s election, and could win enough votes to avoid a runoff.
His popularity, experts say, is buoyed by his branding as a hip and forceful leader, as well as by his truncated term — many voters don’t blame him for the country’s ills and say he needs more time.
His main opponent is Luisa González, a leftist establishment candidate handpicked by a powerful former president, Rafael Correa, who served from 2007 to 2017. She has drawn support from Mr. Correa’s base of voters, who are eager to return to the prosperity and low homicide rates during his tenure.
But it also hurts her among other Ecuadoreans who remember Mr. Correa’s repressive tactics and corruption scandals. Many Noboa supporters put it simply: Ms. González represents the past, while Mr. Noboa represents the future.
Mr. Noboa’s party, which was created less than a year ago, is predicted to win about a third of the seats in the legislature — the same as Mr. Correa’s party.
For years Ecuador has been defined by Mr. Correa’s movement, but some say Mr. Noboa has the potential to create a political force of his own.
This is the first time since the Correa years that Ecuador has seen a relatively popular president seeking re-election, and it “creates the possibility for a type of political stability that Ecuador hasn’t seen really since Correa left office,” said Risa Grais-Targow, the Latin America director for Eurasia Group, a political risk consultancy.
Ecuadorean presidential elections typically feature two rounds of voting, with the two top candidates in the first round facing off in the second. To win the first round outright, a candidate must win more than 50 percent of the votes, or win 40 percent of the votes with a 10-point margin over the nearest rival.
Just five years ago, Mr. Noboa was a political unknown. After one term as a legislator, he rose unexpectedly from the bottom of the polls to a second-place finish in the first round of presidential elections in 2023, helped, in part, by a strong debate performance.
Mr. Noboa, a Harvard Kennedy School graduate, comes from one of Ecuador’s wealthiest families. His father, Álvaro Noboa, who owns an economic empire that includes Bonita Bananas, also ran for president five times, unsuccessfully.
The younger man has been leading the country of nearly 18 million through a particularly bloody period.
Over the past five years, the drug-trafficking industry has expanded in Ecuador, drawing in international criminal groups, unleashing violence in the once-peaceful nation and sending tens of thousands of migrants fleeing to the United States.
Two months after taking office, Mr. Noboa declared a state of internal armed conflict after several prison riots and an on-air siege of a TV station.
The drastic step, which allowed the military to patrol prisons and streets, was seen as a turning point. Some Ecuadoreans felt the measure was necessary to crack down on gang violence, while others worried it threatened civil liberties.
The move initially brought down violence in cities like Guayaquil, but the sense of safety did not last. January saw more violent deaths than any month in the past three years, according to police data.
In April, Mr. Noboa dispatched police officers to the Mexican Embassy to arrest a politician who had taken refuge there to escape a prison sentence for corruption. Experts called the action a violation of international law on the sanctity of diplomatic missions, and the arrest drew global condemnation.
But in Ecuador, the moves boosted Mr. Noboa’s image as a tough-on-crime leader, and Ecuadoreans endorsed his hard-line approach later that month, when they approved a referendum enshrining the increased military presence into law and lengthening prison terms for certain offenses linked to organized crime.
“I think he is authoritarian,” said Cristina Guevara, 45, who cares full time for her disabled son. “But we want him to win because it is the only solution that there is going to be right now.”
Still, Mr. Noboa’s approach has been polarizing, and his approval ratings have been carved in half.
Many blamed his harsh strategy for the disappearance in December of four children who were forced into a military patrol car after they were seen playing soccer in the western province of Guayas. Their charred remains were found weeks later, and the case set off outrage and protests against the military.
A judge ordered the detention of 16 military members involved in the disappearance.
When it comes to his plans for the country, Mr. Noboa has provided little in the way of concrete promises, instead speaking vaguely about throwing “the old Ecuador” in the trash.
His success has been in creating a “character,” said Caroline Ávila, an Ecuadorean political analyst. “This character still does not tell the voter what country he wants to give you.”
Verónica Díaz, the national coordinator of Mr. Noboa’s party, said one of his top plans was to change the Constitution to lift a ban on foreign military bases.
Mr. Correa instituted the ban in 2008, pushing out a U.S. military presence that critics say was crucial for fighting international criminal groups.
Mr. Noboa is also openly feuding with his vice president, Verónica Abad, a right-wing business coach. Ecuadorean law requires presidents to cede their duties to the vice president while campaigning, but Mr. Noboa has refused to do so, citing an electoral law that he claimed allowed him to govern and campaign at the same time.
The constitutional court rejected that claim on Monday, so Mr. Noboa stopped officially campaigning.
Experts say some of Mr. Noboa’s actions are an overreach of executive authority that could be seen as authoritarian.
“He’s tended to push the limit in terms of both international and domestic constitutional norms,” said Ms. Grais-Targow. “But it’s always been done with the banner of security measures or transparency, which I think has helped to contain the political fallout for him.”
His supporters see him as a fearless leader willing to make bold decisions for the sake of the country.
But Ledy Zúñiga, a former justice minister who is running for the National Assembly with Ms. González’s party, said weakening the country’s democratic norms only makes it harder to address the country’s violence.
“As long as the institutional framework of the security system is not strengthened, it is very difficult,” she said.
Mr. Noboa is also one of the few leaders in Latin America who seem to be on good terms with President Trump. He attended his inauguration and has accepted deportation flights.
Mr. Noboa’s decision not to actively campaign, following the court’s ruling, makes for an unusual scene on the trail.
On Wednesday, the plaza in suburban Quito was packed with thousands of people waiting to hear him speak. Because of the court’s decision, he never did.
So he ate lunch in a food market while chatting with local vendors. Spectators quickly surrounded him, standing on chairs, snapping selfies and chanting campaign slogans.
“It was exciting because no president has ever come to this market before,” said Soledad Medina, 60, who sold the president juice. “He is very young and he is intelligent and would like our Ecuador to change. What we need is a change.”
José María León Cabrera contributed reporting.
