State absence and self-reliance in Colombia
‘Almost all Colombia’s Presidents have come from one of 30 families,’ I was told during my recent trip to the country, ‘but this one is different.’ The election of a progressive President, with an Afro-descendant and female Vice-President at his side, is breaking new ground for a country in which white and mestizo men have continuously dominated politics.
It may be that the elected officials now come from less privileged backgrounds but much of the state machinery is still in the hands of elites, as is much of the media, and these actors can put a break on progress, it seems, regardless of the intentions of elected officials.
Colombia’s long history of civil conflict, involving government forces, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) and a host of other rebel insurgencies, paramilitary groups and criminal gangs, has spanned more than 60 years and caused the deaths of more than 260,000 people, with over 8 million others displaced.
Reflecting a broader context of discrimination and exclusion in Colombia, Afro-descendants and indigenous peoples in rural areas have been disproportionately affected by the violence, with many communities targeted with violence and eviction from their lands by rebel groups, paramilitaries and criminal gangs seeking to gain control over their resources.
This week marks the eighth anniversary of the historical peace deal signed on 24th November 2016 between FARC, the largest existing armed group at the time, and the Colombian government. The idea was, I believe, that if the largest armed group could be neutralized, other smaller groups (with in fact, very widely different motivations) would also come to heel.
Yet in 2023 and 2024, conflict deaths continue to be alarming. Areas which were apparently under secure government control have fallen once again to armed groups.
During my visit to Colombia last week I was told that armed groups were threatening the Afro-descendant community in a suburb of the capital Bogotá – in chilling reminders of what happens in more remote regions: crosses marked on doors and communities warned that ‘Black people must leave.’
In the eight years since the peace deal, most of the conflict-affected regions have remained those which are rural and remote. The fact that most of these areas have large Afro-descendant and Indigenous populations is of course not a coincidence. The armed groups favour these peripheral areas, with their lower infrastructural investments, often close to borders, rivers or coasts allowing for access, as well as local communities with little trust in the authorities. Almost everyone one I spoke to in Colombia raised the need for ‘self protection’: unarmed mechanisms of self-care and ancestral protection that help communities defend themselves without resorting to the authorities. Such systems aim to be preventative, using deterrents to maintain order and justice and keeping communities at arm’s length from the state forces which are seen as aggressive, violent and whose intervention is likely to result in more harm than good.
The fact that the Colombian National Police Force is situated within the Ministry of Defence is telling. Black and indigenous Colombians continue to be racially profiled and brutalised by police.Decades of activity addressing the extreme brutalities of Colombia’s armed conflict, means the police forc is not in any way prepared to interact in an ethos of service, rather than control by fear and force, with the diversity of Colombia’s citizens – here I refer not only to Afro-descendant and Indigenous peoples but also women and LGBTQI people too.
During the last presidency, the state missed the opportunity to install even a symbolic state presence or improve opportunities in the areas where FARC combatants disarmed and reintegrated into civilian life. One peace activist I spoke to told me that while his organisation established over 40 projects to raise incomes and offer jobs, education or local governance, the state in the same period got only three such projects started.
This has left a vacuum in these areas, and, with the state effectively absent, the other remaining armed groups (some with primarily political motivations (both right and left wing) and others who are simply criminal gangs) have taken the opportunity to move into the areas FARC vacated, oppressing and terrorising the local populations as they do so. FARC was in fact suppressing the expansion of rival armed groups as it defended its territory.
The state, having defused the threat from its primary enemy, now has over other 8 new enemies to counter militarily or to negotiate peace with. These armed groups have expanded rapidly, one factor enabling that, being that young people in these areas objectively lack access to opportunities, and are thus highly vulnerable to recruitment into the armed gangs who offer a regular salary, unlike any other option available to them. The remaining armed groups include some with primarily political motivations (both right wing and left wing) and others who are simply criminal gangs who benefit from the absence of the authorities and any semblance of the rule of law to profit from human and drug trafficking.
The ultimate tragedy of this situation is the suffering of those communities affected, primarily Afro-descendant and Indigenous peoples. I was told of a 74-year-old woman who suffered multiple rapes in recent weeks, an appalling example, but rape and sexual assault are extremely common, part of a deliberate strategy of terrorising populations into submission to and support for armed occupying forces. This terror is pervasive and most have little choice but to buckle under when living in a country with one of the highest rates of deaths of rights defenders in the world.
Colombia is a vibrant, diverse country with a lot of potential. It has entrepreneurial and imaginative leaders more open to diversity (in all its forms) than ever before. It’s been hosting international policy events including the Biodiversity Convention Conference of Parties in Cali a few weeks ago, albeit that some of the most biodiverse areas of the country, are not, in fact, under government control.
Leaving Colombia after my short visit, I feel that I have hardly scratched the surface of its complexity, the transition process and stubborn cycles of violence, marginalization and suffering which are extremely hard to break. I am not confident that the bravery, imagination and determination of those seeking progress will be sufficient to push through reforms, deliver peace and development and set the country on a more positive trajectory.
But the fact that a Black community can refuse access to the police, keeping order without arms via solely traditional structures and methods, that communities can convert their knowledge of the forests and coasts into income by selling herbs, turmeric or coca tea, and that the survivors of horrendous sexual violence can not only survive but also thrive and care for whole communities of those similarly affected, is testament that hope for Colombia resides as much in its people as in its State. For these communities, the long-term absence of the State has provided them with an opportunity for a very meaningful self-determination of a quite particular kind.
Featured Image: Sunset on the Atrato River in the village of El Carmen del Darién, Chocó, Colombia. Credit: Livia Saavedra.