The Ghosts of War & Questions of Peace

I could not sleep last night. I edited this post throughout the day but wrote it in the middle of the night, unable to sleep without first writing something. I was truly struck, dumbfounded, by the news that both the government of Colombia and the self-styled Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia  (FARC) are asking the UN and the CELAC to help monitor a bilateral ceasefire and a definitive end to hostilities. 

 

The news itself is not shocking – the peace process in Havana between the insurgents and the government has resulted in periodical historical breakthroughs (a deal on transitional justice, unprecedented participation of various victims’ groups in a peace process, etc). However, the location of this event within the 51 year history of war between the FARC and the State gave me pause.

 

For the first time in a generation, the dream of peace with Colombia’s most important rebel group is no longer a fantasy, but a tangible, realistic possibility. Many Colombians, including myself, would honestly never thought they would live to see this. Too many have not. Perhaps Colombia is starting to deal with its figurative ghosts.

 

I offer some reflections on the history that is being made here, on the war. For Colombians, one’s social location defines one’s relationship to the armed conflict, and I write this from the relative comfort of the Global North; part of my privilege is that the war is fortunately not a lived reality for me, it’s not an inescapable totality ending or interrupting life but glimpses of a brutal phenomenon in a distant supposed “homeland” to be escaped by merely putting down the book, putting back the letter, clicking past the headline, or turning off the television. Indeed, reflecting on the precarity of other lives in this war is a luxury testifying to my privilege produced by the very same violence.

 

A final caveat – I cannot and hope not to speak to our personal ghosts of this war. The spirits, memories, hauntings, denials, or our personal stories of war, or our connections to victims, perpetrators, and everyone in between must be respected; collective processes of attempting to reconcile with a history of brutality cannot coerce, erase, or appropriate personal narratives. I want to address collective ghosts, if we can speak of such a thing.

 

My thoughts on this moment in – and making – history.

 

Gabriel Garcia Marquez ended his Nobel masterpiece with this:

 

“[Races] condemned to one hundred years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth”.

 

This passage marked me; haunted me. It made me think, uncritically and pessimistically (as One Hundred Years is all about pessimism) that perhaps Colombia was condemned to war. From the genocide of the Indigenous peoples in the Spanish Conquests, the enslavement of hundreds of thousands of Africans brought to work in Colombia’s mines, the wars for the word (but not the true condition) of “independence”, and the later conflicts between various ruling parties (depicted in Colombia’s most well-known book) to the conflicts of the present, for the last 500 years, violence has been the norm and peace has been the exception. Peace has been an interruption.

 

Now peace with the most important insurgency in the country is within reach. A momentum is building behind peace that will hopefully make for a significant interruption.

 

It’s hard to say what “peace” is or what it can or will be. It is something that will have to be struggled, defended, questioned, and collectively built. However, it is clear to me what peace with this rebel group will not be.
Peace with the FARC will not mean justice for the over 7 million victims of Colombia’s internal conflict. It will probably not give new opportunities to the young rebels who were raised on waging war. It will not bring back the dead, the disappeared, or return the land to the dispossessed. It will not restore the ties of Afro-descendent/Black and Indigenous peoples to ancestral lands that have been severed by the conflict. It will not heal the injured or the maimed. It will not bring back the years lost for those kidnapped by the rebels. It will not bring truth, or any kind of agreement on what actually took place during the war. It will not mean peace with the other major insurgency, the National Liberation Army (ELN). It will not mean peace with the drug cartels, nor peace with the paramilitaries/private armies of landed elites that displace peasants. It will not mean an end to the “Dirty War” of selective killings of labour union leaders, community leaders, dissidents, or activists; most of the nation will only come to know its  leaders through reports of their deaths, and not engagements with their lives. It will not mean peace with the violences of inequality, economic exploitation, nor land dispossession by the multinationals. It will not end Colombia’s rampant classist, sexist, racist, transphobic and homophobic violences. It will not bring true democracy. And despite the undoubted prominence to come of this term if an agreement is reached, it will not bring reconciliation, and we will not all forgive each others’ atrocities.

 

 

A Colombia at peace with the FARC will only be a utopia in the marketing materials of the government to tourists and foreign investors.

 

Peace is not an answer. It may not even be an attainable or definable condition. However, if war has been the permanent answer that Colombia has had to many of its ills, peace can be an interrupting question.

 

Maybe – just maybe – some communities can – for the first time in over half a century – not wake up to another day of the horrors of of a conflict in which both sides wage war against them, and no side fights for them. For some communities, perhaps machine gun fire can abandon the soundscape, letting private whispers demanding justice to be cried out in plazas. Perhaps, for some, sophisticated American smart bombs and crude rebel landmines can stop dismembering bodies and communities. Perhaps womens’ bodies will no longer be soldiers’ spoils of war, objects attached to conquered territory. Perhaps “To Disappear” will be a verb with less currency in the popular lexicon. Perhaps some will no longer have to obey the gaze of the rifles. Perhaps, for some, declared neutrality or suspected partisanship will no longer invite destruction.

 

Perhaps the magnitude of risking one’s life will no longer be a spectre on the minutiae of necessary daily movements. Perhaps emptying territories of soldiers and rebels will allow communities to create ‘geographies without terror’. Perhaps some of the calm felt in the cities’ shopping malls and country clubs can leap through the social chasm to ‘The Other Colombia’, to the overexploited ruralities who have experienced the waves of massacres, bombings, extrajudicial killings, forced disappearances, militarized sexual violences forgotten or denied by the urban elite. Perhaps the urban elite can stop ‘discovering’ their own national geography by news of the most recent massacre in an otherwise forgotten and nameless small rural town. Perhaps we can begin to not only remember, but begin to know  these places by their names and complexities beyond the abjectivity of their tragedies. Perhaps comforting national narratives can be shaken by the impossibility of writing this history of war, perhaps – appropriately – history can become difficult to tell.

 

Maybe – just maybe – the entire country can follow the lead of many courageous movements and communities in the interminable work of demanding justice, of speaking of and to the unspeakable horrors, of confronting the incredibly present spectres of a past haunted by violence. Perhaps we can begin to engage our national ghosts. We may never exorcise all of them completely – nor should we; as memory can be act of resistance, and amnesia can dehumanize. But perhaps we can begin to learn how to live with our national ghosts, how to allow them to live with us. It will never be complete.

 

The armed conflict is irreducible to narratives, it is an extremely complex condition, however, these help motivate it. The war has not only produced hauntings, it has been produced by them.

 

Slavoj Zizek says that all revolutions attempt to redeem the ghosts of past failed revolutions.

 

The Marxist FARC insurgency has been haunted by the ghosts of dispossessed peasants and a repressed Left in the 40s. This spirit has been nourished by later State repression. The rebels’ religion of a people’s revolution against the owners and exploiters would be corrupted by the demons of drug trafficking, kidnapping,  human rights abuses, becoming more arrogant, and turning against the population they claimed to represent.

 

The State’s counter-insurgency is also motivated by spectres from Colombia, and from other lands. For Colombia’s patron, the United States, the spectre of another Cuban or Sandinista Revolution in “its backyard” is terrifying, abhorrent, unacceptable and impermissible. This spectre has gripped Bogota and Washington into a deep obsession: the aspirations of alternatives to their social orders were systematically disciplined by attacking the bodies who hold them. Rallying cries for change were muted by the roar of repression, imposing silences of terror. These suspicions continue today.

 

The peace process is trying to purge Colombia of these spirits. However, if they remain on the land, hungry enough, being able to feed on something, they may still haunt the future.

 

Therefore, perhaps this peace is an illusion; a disguise for a new war which is not yet visible. Maybe the foundational violences of colonialism and/or the social stratification of Colombian society will produce new militarized social, political or criminal conflicts. It could be that certain ghosts are not ready to be laid to rest. Perhaps Marquez is right about our condemnation to history.

 

As the great American street poet Tupac Shakur once said:

 

“We can’t have peace until we all get a piece”.

 

As they say, only time will tell. Hopefully the future will answer some of the questions of the past…(or better yet, question some of its answers).

 

Let me end by coming full circle with Gabo Marquez: One of the turning points in One Hundred Years of Solitude is the Banana Workers Massacre. This was an actual massacre that was perpetrated against a labour action by workers of the United Fruit Company in Colombia and between 3 and 3,000 people were killed in 1929. It is emblematic of a larger history  in Colombia of repressing organized labour through murder for the interests and designs of (usually foreign) capital. In Marquez’ fiction, only one member of the community knows about the massacre – everyone else in Macondo is told by the authorities that nothing happened. No one believes the survivor. Marquez himself has said that “perhaps only 3 or 4 people died”. Was it 3, or 3,000? Again, Marquez’s genius has much to teach the Colombian peace process. If war is a contest of soldiers, peace will be a contest of surviving memories. We may never have answers for our ghosts.

 

And like the silence in Macondo of the massacre, perhaps some stories will remain too true to tell………

 

 

 

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Who is and is not a ‘paramilitary’? Erasing the changing nature of Colombia’s conflicts over land

A few weeks ago, Al Jazeera English’s “Fault Lines” program recently ran an interesting 20-minute investigative piece on the struggles of community leaders with respect to the Land Restitution process, which raises some questions about whether or not paramilitarism continues, or has changed in Colombia.

“Land & Life”, photo credit: InfoLatAm

Some context – The Paramilitary Demobilization & Contested Narratives.

Since the 1920s (and arguably, since the 16th century), disputes over who owns land, whether land can be ‘owned’, who gets to benefit off of the land, have been deeply influencing Colombia’s armed and social conflict.

Although the FARC, the ELN, drug cartels, and the army/all armed actors in Colombia have displaced people off of their land and terrorized communities in order to exert social and territorial control over them, right-wing paramilitary groups working often on behalf of narcotraffickers and large land owners have been particularly tied to the question of displacement. Colombia is said to have the highest number of internally displaced people in the world (the Norwegian Refugee Council puts it at 5.5 million, and this documentary puts it at around 6 million). This is not  even counting those who were displaced outside of Colombia. Many in Colombia say that throughout the war, as much as 10 million hectares have changed hands.

What’s interesting here is that many analyses concerning Colombia’s Land Restitution Law follow a common, and relatively accurate, narrative – Colombia’s land restitution process is at serious threat because of the continued threats by armed groups to community organizers leading land claims. However, the Al-Jazeera documentary probes deeper into the ideological and semantic questions of these threats, which arguably, are of tremendous significance to the political moment in which the land restitution process occurs.

Firstly, the confederation of right-wing paramilitary groups known as las Autodefensas Unidas de Colombia (AUC, or the United Self-Defense forces of Colombia) demobilized in 2003-6 in a highly-criticized process which some victim’s groups saw as a granting of impunity    Many of the middle-rung paramilitary leaders who demobilized under the law (and were not extradited to the United States on drug trafficking charges) will start to be released this year.

Thousands of the former paramilitaries granted legal benefits under the demobilization process with the previous government of Alvaro Uribe (2002-2010), re-armed into groups that have been characterized by the government and some analysts as “criminal bands” or BACRIM, or armed groups that are primarily focused on narcotrafficking, and not actors in the armed conflict.

In the documentary, a functionary of the national government says that the BACRIM are not paramilitaries, for example, because they do not engage in combat with the FARC or the ELN.

Others, such as opposition Congressman Ivan Cepeda have argued that the BACRIM are neo-paramilitaries, or a continuation of powerful interests defending themselves with private armies. What is undoubted is that the human costs of paramilitarism, and the tactics of repression, threats, and cruelty imposed by these groups on the civilian population are very similar to the ‘old’ paramilitaries and are devastating. It is important to note however that the ‘old’ paramilitaries in the 1990s committed many large, atrocious massacres, and these are much less common now, although the selective murders of activists continue at an alarming rate in Colombia. It’s also worth nothing that violence perpetrated by the neoparas/BACRIM accounts for the majority of forced displacement currently.

At the heart of the question is what is the ideological motivation (if any) behind these paramilitary successor groups – if they have, like the Castaños – a clear anti-subversive, right-wing and seemingly fascist ideological motivation, or if they are “merely” criminal groups or drug traffickers and pistols-for-hire for powerful landed interests. This raises some questions about history – one of Uribe’s main challenges in beginning negotiations with the AUC in the early 2000s was that to do so they needed to have legally recognized political status (which they did not). Moreover, some have argued that even the AUC did not necessarily have a coherent guiding ideology as many groups were the private armies of (seemingly apolitical) narcotraffickers. However, in relation to land, it is clear that the AUC did have a clear pro-business, pro-land owner and anti-dissident agenda.

“Neoparamilitarism” in the Current Political Moment – Moving toward “peace”?

President Juan Manuel Santos Calderon giving land titles in Mampujan, Cesar at a land restitution ceremony. Photo credit: Caracol.com.co

The important point here is the political interests behind this seemingly abstract distinction – if the they do have an ideological motivation, then perhaps the “neoparas” are a continuation of paramilitarism in Colombia, but if they are not, this validates the official discourse that paramilitarism in Colombia ended in 2006 with the demoblization of the AUC. Under this logic, which is the government narrative and is often reproduced in Colombian media, the only groups left to negotiate with for “peace” in Colombia are the guerrillas.

Within this narrative is the conjecture of the “historic” 2011 Victim’s and Land Restitution’s Law and the current peace talks with the FARC guerrillas in Havana. Both initiatives by the Santos government are aimed at ending Colombia’s conflict (although, a conflict defined in certain ways) and providing ‘reparations’ for “moving forward” or establishing a so-called “peace”.

Although the Victim’s Law is a useful tool and has some interesting mechanisms for Victim’s (such as a reverse-onus for land-owners accused of having ‘dirty’ land to prove that they obtained it legally), the law, as explained by the Al-Jazeera documentary, is actually quite tepid in how much land can be redistributed, and in how much time (the law stops after a decade, and the backlog on land claims is enormous). Furthermore, according to one interviewee, the law won’t touch the land of large companies or land-owners who have their paper work in order. In other words, the Victim’s Law is not an agrarian reform to respond to not only the violent, largely paramilitary and narco-trafficker-driven, counter-agrarian reform/displacement crisis of the last 30 years, but it also leaves out the historic question of land inequality in Colombia (rooted in colonialism). Finally, there are questions about whether those displaced by the BACRIM/neo-paras (as these aren’t deemed as political actors in the armed conflict) will be eligible for restitution.

Therefore, the political categorization of Colombia’s armed groups in institutional and political terms shapes conceptualizations of the conflict, and subsequently, divergences between how the state wants to frame the war (or ignore it) and how people experience it in human and material terms (killings of leaders continue, land isn’t given back).

Ideologically, the Colombian state, the international community, and particularly academia, seems to prioritize political violence (as this threatens the state, and is more “sexy”/associated with mass and sensationalized violence). Prioritizing this violence also prioritizes its victims. However, that begs the question – what is an armed conflict, what is political violence, and what does it matter? Arguably, Mexico is currently experiencing a brutal civil war.  Politics also currently colours the mass wave of violence in Venezuela, which in recent years has had some of the highest murder rates in the world.

It makes little senses to create a hierarchy of violences, and of  its’ victims, according to rigid and problematic intellectual definitions of an ‘armed conflict’ needing to have a certain relationship to discourses (groups needing explicit political goals) and to the state (protecting or challenging its monopoly on violence).

Kyle Johnson in a guest piece over at Colombia Reports on the “neo-paras” offers a much more useful conceptualization:

The political at its root is the capacity to make and implement decisions that define, normally limiting, the rules of the game in society by imposing restrictions and permissions on certain actions; it is looking to establish a social hierarchy and decide who resides where in that hierarchy; usually the rules and hierarchy are reinforced through coercion and selected benefits for certain sectors of the population. This definition is far from most arguments about what constitutes political positions, political interests, etc. It is derived from classical political theory and some sociological concepts on political power, and it should be noted that one does not need a clear, well-developed ideological project to have a political side.

…..

Given the incredible historical importance that land has played in establishing the position of people in the regional social hierarchy, and thus the economic, social and political power large landowners have, the threats and violence against those who are reclaiming their stolen land back are effectively defining the place of certain actors in that hierarchy. …

Additionally, these coercive actions indicate that looking to gain stolen land back is not permitted in the areas under Urabeños’ control.

So in the Colombian context (and many others) the contention that is politics is largely rooted in land, and therefore the BACRIM/neoparamilitaries are definitely political actors as they are trying to close political space for actors wanting to claim it, using a language of ‘cleansing’ that harks back to the days of the AUC.   They also  seem to be in favour of business interests and against activists/community leaders and progressive sectors.

By re-defining the nature of politics to be something broader than explicit ideology or threats to the state, and armed political conflict, or by not creating a hierarchy of victims, hopefully this would open more institutional spaces for victim’s to have access to memory, reparations, justice, and restitution on their terms. However, as things currently stand, questions of whether paramilitarism continues in Colombia are seemingly being ignored by the state and some sectors of the media in their language and characterization of paramilitary successor groups as ‘criminal bands’ disconnected from the past paramilitaries. What the thesis of ‘neoparamilitarism’ does is throw a wrench in the the assumptions behind the Land Restitution process, the peace process, and notions of transitional justice in Colombia : the Justice & Peace Law was not just an abject failure in providing justice, but it also provided no peace and no transition. At a local level, conflicts over land continue in the same nature as during the height of the war and paramilitarism/paramilitarism was not stopped by the demobilization.

Validating the official discourse – that paramilitaries are over, land is being given back, and soon, the guerrillas and the war in general will be history, erases not only the current lived experiences of people in regions like Jiguamiando and Curvarado and the Urabá region, but also more structural, historical, and political underpinnings of Colombia’s conflict (land inequality and the brutal repression of peaceful dissidence). It also erases how Colombian democracy was shockingly co-opted by paramilitary groups, and that the alliances between certain businesspeople, politicians, and armed groups who displace and threaten peasants, Afro-Colombians, popular sectors, and indigenous people are something that has been overcome.

In other words, at this course, violence against Colombia’s peasantry will long continue after the FARC give up their arms, but the victim’s of Colombia’s war will be even more invisible; the war will be further denied.
PS – The International Criminal Court is looking at one paramilitary group, the ‘Autodefensas Gaitanistas de Colombia’, popularly referred to as “Los Urabeños“.

Further reading: York University Professor Jasmin Hristov’s “Legalizing the Illegal: Paramilitarism in Colombia’s ‘Post-Paramilitary’ Era” is strongly recommended.

For another perspective, InsightAnalysis has a wealth of information on Colombia’s BACRIM.

At a local level, according to Ariel Avila,  it also seems that ‘parapolitics’, or alliances between neoparas/BACRIM are still occurring, reminiscent of the ‘parapolitica’ scandal that touched over a third of Congress, intelligence agencies, the military, and civil cervants.

VerdadAbierta.com: “Justicia y Paz, en la recta final para llegar con macro-sentencias de ‘paras’ en junio”

Justicia apurada, justicia negada? Una importante noticia sobre el proceso de justicia y paz/justicia ‘transicional’

Publicado originalmente el el Lunes 13 de Enero en VerdadAbierta.com

“La meta de cerrar los procesos contra 16 ex jefes paramilitares y guerrilleros postulados a Justicia y Paz con una sentencia que englobe a todos sus subalternos antes de junio de este año ya va a mitad de camino. VerdadAbierta.com muestra el estado de esos procesos y los pronósticos que hacen fiscales y abogados de víctimas y postulados.

Desde inicios del año pasado, la Fiscalía decidió cambiar la estrategia de Justicia y Paz, y darle prioridad a los casos contra 16 de los principales ex jefes paramilitares y guerrilleros postulados al proceso para poder conseguir sentencias definitivas en un menor plazo. Con la estrategia original, que pretendía juzgar a más de tres mil postulados a Justicia y Paz caso por caso, según ordenaba la Ley 975 antes de que fuera reformada, el cálculo daba que tomaría casi un siglo terminarlos, una contradicción en sí misma pues se trata de una justicia transicional. (Ver nota: El año decisivo para Justicia y Paz).

De ahí que se haya reorganizado el trabajo de la Fiscalía para sacar adelante inicialmente 16 macro-procesos – reducidos ahora a 13 para la etapa de juicio – encabezados cada uno por un ex jefe de los grupos armados que está postulado a Justicia y Paz, con el objetivo de que éstos terminen en 16 sentencias colectivas para ellos y quienes fueron sus subalternos, y en reconocimientos, colectivos también, a quienes fueron sus víctimas.

La meta de junio de este año no es gratuita; en ese mismo mes muchos postulados, incluidos jefes paramilitares, podrían comenzar a solicitar su libertad porque cumplen los ocho años de prisión, la pena más alta a la que pueden ser condenados en Justicia y Paz. (Ver nota: Así será la priorización de Farc y Auc en Justicia y Paz).

El nuevo método consiste en que primero la Fiscalía hace las imputaciones contra los postulados (las acusaciones por sus delitos) en audiencias preliminares frente a los Tribunales de Justicia y Paz, y luego, comienzan las audiencias concentradas, en las que se expone de una manera más detallada los hechos o crímenes por los que son juzgados los postulados; después, el incidente de identificación de afectaciones causadas a las víctimas, y termina con la sentencia y las posteriores audiencias de cumplimiento.

Hasta el momento, tres de esos procesos están por entrar a la última etapa de “audiencias concentradas”. Otros nueve macro- procesos se encuentran un paso atrás, en las “audiencias preliminares”, y los demás están en etapas anteriores.

El 9 de diciembre del año pasado, Juan Pablo Hinestrosa, director de la Unidad de Justicia y Paz de la Fiscalía, defendió en una rueda de prensa el trabajo de la institución: “en junio de 2014, postulados como Fredy Rendón Herrera, alias ‘El Alemán’, y otros postulados de mayor y menor rango van a quedar libres por el vencimiento de sus penas cumplidas. La apuesta que hace la Fiscalía desde que empezó esta administración es lograr que cuando empiecen a quedar libres estos postulados se tengan sentencias condenatorias para así cumplir con lo que se llama Justicia Transicional”, explicó.

La justicia transicional colombiana, que se ha aplicado en varios países como una manera de dejar atrás la guerra, buscó suspenderles las condenas por sus múltiples delitos atroces a aquellos paramilitares y guerrilleros que se comprometieron a dejar las armas en forma colectiva o individual, e imponerles penas de máximo ocho años de cárcel, a cambio de que colaboraran con la justicia, la verdad y la reparación de sus víctimas. Y este año se cumple esa pena máxima de ocho años para muchos de ellos.

VerdadAbierta.com consultó a fiscales, abogados de postulados y de víctimas que participan en el proceso y coincidieron en que no es muy probable que se consigan fallos condenatorios de los postulados y sus subalternos en los cinco meses que faltan. Además, algunos de ellos advirtieron que no sólo importa la celeridad con que se adelanten los procesos, si no que se cumplan los principios generales de la Ley de Justicia y Paz de responderle a las víctimas y a la sociedad con verdad y justicia y una reparación debida.

Las cuentas
Hasta diciembre del año pasado se habían realizado las imputaciones contra nueve de los postulados. Cada una de estas imputaciones incluye la descripción de la larga lista de crímenes que confesaron los ex paramilitares o ex guerrilleros y su grupo o que el fiscal del caso documentó, según los tipos de delitos que Fiscalía fijó como prioritarios. Estos son: violencia sexual, desplazamiento forzado, desaparición forzada, reclutamiento de menores y casos de connotación, que son delitos seleccionados por el fiscal de cada grupo como masacres, secuestros, extorsiones a gremios regionales u homicidios de minorías o líderes de la comunidad.

Los procesos que van más avanzados son los de las Autodefensas Campesinas del Magdalena Medio, el del comandante del Frente 43 de las Farc, ‘Martín Sombra’, y el del Ejército Revolucionario Guevarista. Las audiencias concentradas están fijadas para el próximo 20 de enero en los tribunales de Justicia y Paz de Bogotá y Medellín.

La diligencia que hasta el momento más retrasos presenta es la de Diego Fernando Murillo Bejarano, alias ‘Don Berna’, que iniciará el 27 de enero con la imputación de cargos por su participación como comandante de los Bloques Héroes de Granada, Héroes de Tolová y Cacique Nutibara. (Ver nota: Magistrados ordenan indagar sobre espinosas verdades)

Al hacer los cálculos hay que considerar que la Ley 1592 de 2012 que reformó la Ley 975 de 2005 o de Justicia y Paz, no establece ningún tiempo límite de duración de las audiencias preliminares y la concentrada. Los únicos plazos establecidos son los de los intervalos entre la finalización y el inicio de una nueva etapa.

A mediados del año pasado, cuando se anunciaron los primeros avances de la estrategia de priorización, la Fiscalía había anunciado que el 31 de julio de 2013 tendría radicados los escritos de imputación de cargos para que los magistrados establecieran la fecha de inicio de las audiencias. Sin embargo, los cálculos eran optimistas para el volumen de trabajo que esto implicaba y los fiscales sólo pudieron terminar estas imputaciones entre octubre y diciembre o apenas están por terminar. Un fiscal le explicó a VerdadAbierta.com que las audiencias concentradas podrían tardar un poco más que las imputaciones, pues la formulación de cargos es más detallada. “Se abordan todos los casos con más profundidad –explicó –, ahí debe quedar muy claro quiénes fueron los autores y si fueron materiales o no, y presentar todas las circunstancias de tiempo, modo y lugar”.

En el siguiente gráfico puede visualizar mejor cómo es el proceso de priorización y el estado en el que se encuentran:

Se recomienda ver la presentación en pantalla completa.
Dé clic en Start Prezi y luego en el cuadro de la parte inferior

 

Infraestructura
Uno de los problemas que más llama la atención de los defensores de los postulados y las víctimas es la escasa infraestructura y personal con la que cuenta la justicia para hacer esta inmensa tarea. La mayor parte de la responsabilidad para dictar esas 16 macro-sentencias recae sobre los seis magistrados de conocimiento de Justicia y Paz con los que cuenta el país (cuatro en Bogotá, uno en Medellín y uno en Barranquilla). Los fallos hasta el momento se refieren a 11 mil hechos que comprometen a 34 mil víctimas. A esto habría que agregar las demás diligencias que se derivan de los casos de otros postulados y estructuras guerrilleras y paramilitares que no han sido definidos como prioritarios, pero que aun así deben continuar.

Sobre esto, el director de la Unidad de Justicia y Paz, citó al Fiscal General de la Nación, Eduardo Montealegre, en una intervención que había hecho meses atrás diciendo: “señores Magistrados, el balón está en su campo, de ustedes depende que podamos sacar esta sentencias condenatorias antes de junio de 2014. De ustedes depende que este esfuerzo macro de la Fiscalía, Unidad de Justicia y Paz, no sea inocuo, que no estemos arando en el mar. Que realmente podamos mostrar que en Colombia no nos quedó grande la Justicia Transicional y que estamos en la Fiscalía General de la Nación, preparados para recibir un eventual proceso de Justicia Transicional que llegare de La Habana. Estamos demostrando que la política de priorización es un hecho, es un éxito. Que hemos cumplido, nos falta mucho por hacer, pero que lo que primero hicimos fue fijar una estrategia para poder evacuar en mayor medida toda esa cantidad de hechos y de víctimas que están reclamando justicia”.

No obstante, el trabajo de investigación de varias decenas de equipos de fiscales debe ser evaluado y sopesado por pocos magistrados con equipos de trabajo pequeños, para poder conducir adecuadamente la etapa de juzgamiento y dictar sentencia. Como dijo un abogado de uno de los postulados, “los magistrados no tienen el don de la ubicuidad”.

Explicó que “el deseo de todos es tener las sentencias, pero si uno ve el proceso desde la infraestructura es complejo, hay mucha distancia de lo que se quiere a lo que ocurre”. Además dijo que se requiere que colaboren también otras entidades como el Inpec, y las otras partes que participan del proceso. No obstante las dificultades, aseguró que “desde la metodología que se implementó con la priorización, en el último año por lo menos se logró algo que no se había obtenido desde el 2005: en un día se imputaron 300 hechos”.

Los aplazamientos han sido una de las causas en los retrasos de las audiencias. En los meses anteriores, entre julio y diciembre del año pasado, en los que la Fiscalía había programado la etapa de las audiencias preliminares, se han presentado retrasos por diferentes motivos que van desde problemas en el transporte de los postulados desde las cárceles, excusas médicas por parte de los postulados hasta simples trámites jurídicos o administrativos.

Otro jurista que defiende a un ex jefe paramilitar extraditado a Estados Unidos expresa que para este año también hay que corregir los problemas logísticos que se presentaron en etapas anteriores. Relata que hubo retrasos de días o semanas porque los dispositivos para hacer las videoconferencias se dañaban o el Inpec fallaba en el traslado de algunos postulados.

Una defensora de víctimas de varios procesos de Justicia y Paz, entre ellos el del Bloque Central Bolívar, coincidió con las contrapartes en que los magistrados son muy pocos para tantas sentencias.

La meta
Esta misma abogada advierte, sin embargo, que “no se trata de afanarse para mostrar resultados. La eficiencia y la eficacia no pueden ir por vías distintas. La celeridad no puede recortar la esencia de Justicia y Paz, es decir, debe quedar claro que para reparación debe haber verdad, y no hay verdad si no hay justicia”.

La defensora también señala que “las víctimas están esperando que desde hace 10 o 20 años se les cuente la verdad. Lo que puede salir en junio son sentencias parciales, es decir una verdad parcializada. Porque los delitos priorizados excluyeron en algunos casos torturas, secuestros o robos. Y antes de que una víctima fuera asesinada, años antes había pasado por todo eso. Hay que tener en cuenta la reparación”.

El abogado del ex jefe paramilitar manifiesta que “estoy de acuerdo con la Corte cuando dice que es imposible llegar a una verdad absoluta del conflicto. Pero estas macro-sentencias deben contar la verdad para garantizar la no repetición. Hay víctimas que a pesar de contar ya con las sentencias, no han sido indemnizadas después de un año, y también hay temor entre los postulados que después de tanto tiempo queden libres y no quede muy clara su situación. Hay que pensar desde ahora en las seguridades jurídicas”.

Hasta este punto del proceso es claro que lo que falta para terminar es bastante: de cuatro partes del proceso de juzgamiento se ha avanzado parcialmente en la primera y faltarían otras tres, que en la práctica serán más extensas. El reto de alcanzar las 16 macro-sentencias anunciadas por la Fiscalía en el tiempo en que se lo propuso y, al mismo tiempo cumplir con los requisitos de la Ley de Justicia y Paz, recae casi completamente sobre los hombros de magistrados y fiscales.

No obstante, la responsabilidad de que esta se logre se extiende a diversas entidades que intervienen en el proceso. Por ejemplo, tan solo que un postulado no vaya a una audiencia programada porque el Inpec no hizo el traslado, o que no se haga una transmisión de una audiencia ente víctimas en un lugar remoto por razones técnicas, puede retrasar un caso varias semanas.”