by Austin Galt
Alfonso Cano was considered to be an intellectual after studying anthropology at university. He founded in secret in 2000 the Partido Comunista Clandestino Colombiano (PCCC) or Colombian Clandestine Communist Party, known simply as PC3. This was an illegal political party which directed the Movimiento Bolivariano por la Nueva Colombia (MBNC) or Bolivarian Movement for the New Colombia which was also secretly launched the same year. It aimed to get a foothold for the guerrillas in the country’s urban areas, especially in universities.
More hostage releases continued into 2009, including that of Sigifredo López who was the only survivor of the 12 politicians kidnapped in Cali in 2002. The other 11 politicians were all massacred in 2007. The moment López stepped off the helicopter to be reunited with his two sons after over six years in captivity provided unforgettable images. In a regrettable incident, he was arrested in 2012 on charges he was involved in the mass kidnapping but was released four months later, having been absolved.
The FARC, while under pressure from the government, still continued to commit crimes against the people, including massacring more than three dozen indigenous Awá people in Nariño between 2008 and 2011. The victims included a couple of heavily pregnant girls and several children. The FARC accused the villagers of collaborating with the Colombian military.
One of the FARC’s military targets during this time was Brian Andrews, a blond American journalist straight out of central casting. He hosted channel RCN’s Noticas en Ingles (News in English) program, covering interesting stories about Colombia. Unfortunately, in July 2010, Interpol received intelligence that he had become a target of the FARC who wanted a high-profile victim and he fled the country a couple of days later. This was a shame as I really enjoyed his reports when I was in Colombia. Not to mention, I could watch the Colombian news without having to concentrate on understanding the Spanish!
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Lily and I had commenced life in Sydney, producing two daughters along the way. I worked as a stockbroker experiencing the boom and bust of 2007 and 2008, and if there are any lessons from my time in Colombia that I could apply to the stock market, it would be that things are often not what they seem. Lily had initially taken more English classes and went to a job interview for a computer engineer at a well-known company, really just to practise the language in a professional setting. She got the job.
We initially lived in a small apartment just over the Sydney Harbour Bridge in the suburb of Kirribilli. While the location was great, the apartment wasn’t so much. Lily probably thought our living standards would improve upon arriving in a first-world country such as Australia. We actually lived a better lifestyle in Colombia as everything was cheaper, in particular a house cleaner. However, as we both began working, we soon left for finer lodgings in the adjacent suburb of Neutral Bay. Here we had a top-floor apartment with spectacular views of the harbour. This was better!
Lily soon settled in nicely and began to appreciate the simple things, such as being able to park the car in the street instead of a parking garage. That was an invitation for thieves in Colombia. I also enjoyed being back. I gorged on all my favourite foods. That was probably the thing I missed most when living in Colombia.
It was good to catch up with friends and they were all very welcoming to Lily. She also made some friends from her English classes while one of her Colombian girlfriends came to live and study in Sydney for a year. That helped her to feel more at home. Colombia seemed a world away!
22
FARC’S FINAL STAND
After serving as Uribe’s defence minister, Juan Manuel Santos won the 2010 presidential election becoming the 32nd president of Colombia. He campaigned on continuing the policies of Álvaro Uribe but once in office he changed course in some respects. While he kept up the pressure on the FARC, he looked more actively for peace.
Santos also aimed to repair the country’s relationship with Venezuela which had been tenuous given the mutual dislike between Uribe and Venezuelan president Hugo Chávez. A few days after being inaugurated, Santos met in Santa Marta with Chávez who was sweating profusely in the heat, dressed in his Venezuelan flag-coloured tracksuit. Santos proceeded to call the Venezuelan leader, ‘My new best friend’, which angered many Colombians. Santos surely knew what Venezuela had been up to while he was in charge of Colombia’s defence, and I believe his strategy was based on the expression, ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’.
His presidency got off to a good start, landing some heavy blows against the FARC beginning with the death of Mono Jojoy. The bloodthirsty guerrilla leader had diabetes causing sores on his feet which meant he needed special boots. Colombian intelligence forces were able to intercept his next supply of boots and installed a GPS tracking device in them.
Mono Jojoy was killed in Operation Sodom after fighter jets bombarded his location in Meta in September 2010. He was found to have been running along a trench trying to escape the bombs raining down on the guerrilla camp. His final moments must have been exasperating as he wondered why the bombs kept following him. There was no escape for him this time and his death was regarded as the biggest ever blow to the FARC in all its history.
This was followed up by the death of FARC leader Alfonso Cano in late 2011. The Colombian military had been chasing him all year and had reportedly injured him in February, although he managed to escape. He was found later in November hiding in a rural area of Cauca. Air force planes bombed his location as part of Operation Odysseus. His death led to Timoleón Jiménez, better known by his nickname ‘Timochenko’, becoming the FARC’s top boss.
Timochenko was a hardliner with a lot of military experience. He joined the FARC in 1982 and quickly rose up the ranks, joining the Secretariat in 1986. He is alleged to have been largely responsible for the guerrillas’ cocaine policies, including its production, manufacture and distribution. He operated around Colombia’s northern border with Venezuela and was often thought to take refuge in the neighbouring country.
The FARC now clearly appeared in a death spiral with the Colombian military on a roll. It was now just a case of the military hammering home their advantage. The guerrillas weren’t going to go down without a fight, though. They still had many prized political prisoners with orders to shoot them should a rescue attempt be made.
On 26 November 2011, the Colombian army launched Operation Jupiter in an attempt to rescue a number of hostages who were being held in the jungle of Caquetá. The army had received information that a group of kidnapping victims were in the area. After 43 days without a trace of guerrilla activity, the soldiers were ordered to terminate their mission.
While searching for a suitable area to be lifted out by helicopter, the soldiers came across evidence of guerrilla tracks. They followed the tracks which led to a nearby FARC camp. As the army unit closed in, they were detected by the guerrillas who immediately executed four of the hostages. One of those victims was Libio Martínez who had been held captive for nearly 14 years, making him the longest-held captive in Colombian history.
Libio entered the army in 1996 at the age of 21. He had a girlfriend back in his home city of Pasto who he would often return to see. She became pregnant with their child in the second half of 1997 and they were both excited about starting a family together. Three months later, Libio was kidnapped by FARC guerrillas.
The attack on the Patascoy military base where he was stationed along with 31 other soldiers began on 21 December 1997, with about 200 FARC guerrillas involved. Patascoy is an inactive volcano situated on the border of Putumayo and Nariño states, and the base functioned as the army’s communications station. Most of the soldiers were sleeping when the offensive began with the base being hit by cylinder bombs and machine-gun fire. They were thrown out of bed by the initial bombardment and before they knew it 10 soldiers lay dead. The attack was over after 15 minutes with the remaining soldiers immediately surrendering.
The guerrillas were able to capture 18 soldiers, including Libio Martinez and Pablo Mon
cayo. They were all taken east by their captors to a FARC jail deep in the jungle. In June 2001, the other 16 hostages were released. Libio and Pablo remained. They would go on to become the two longest-held hostages of the FARC.
After 10 years had passed, Pablo Moncayo’s father, Gustavo, set off on a walk from his home in Nariño destined for the capital Bogotá in order to bring attention to the plight of his son and that of other kidnapping victims. He wore chains around his neck and wrists similar to those worn by the FARC’s prisoners. He vowed to take them off only once his son was liberated.
As he marched along the Panamericana, he was joined by others who marched with him in support, while he was greeted by the leaders of each town and city he passed through. He arrived at the Plaza de Bolívar in Bogotá 46 days later, having walked about 1000 kilometres. He had garnered a lot of media attention and, to further the cause, he then visited some European countries and met with Pope Benedict XVI. After returning to Colombia, he set out on another walk from Bogotá to the Venezuelan capital, Caracas, where he met with President Hugo Chávez.
Pablo Moncayo, now 31 years old, was turned over to the Red Cross and Piedad Córdoba on 28 March 2010. The FARC stated it was a humanitarian gesture. After reuniting with his family, Pablo duly took off his father’s chains. He had spent nearly 13 years in a jungle concentration camp. That is where his friend Libio still remained.
Libio’s first proof of life video was delivered in April 2003, over five years after being kidnapped. Libio told his young son Johan he loved him and to look after his mother. They would be able to communicate in future through written letters, the radio and the occasional video.
Johan grew up in front of the nation. The media would interview him throughout the years of his father’s captivity. Each year before Christmas, while still a little boy who believed in Santa Claus, he wished for his present to be his father back with his family. He would learn the hard way that Santa doesn’t exist.
As the years passed, Johan became more despondent in his television interviews. The playful and optimistic youngster was gone. Instead, bitterness began creeping in to his demeanour. He pleaded with the FARC to release his father so that he could finally meet him in person and feel his embrace. Libio’s father also made the same plea. He had cancer and wanted to see his son one final time. He died soon after a broken man.
The final proof of life video was delivered by Piedad Córdoba in August 2010. Libio, seated at a table and looking directly into the camera, said to his son, ‘Johan, I want to say I am very proud of you. For me, you are the most important person in the world.’ Johan kept a photo of his father on his bedside table and after so many years of dreaming of seeing his father by his side and the unbearable pain of being denied, all hope was lost upon learning the FARC had murdered him.
Johan issued a statement to the FARC, which read in part ‘you broke my wings, you broke the longing to know my father personally, to give us that embrace so longed for’. The body of Libio Martinez was returned to the family for the funeral which was covered by the television networks. Images of Johan, now 13 years old, draped across his father’s coffin was one of the saddest moments ever recorded. It was the closest he had ever been to his father. The nation cried with him and felt his pain.
Beginning in 2011, the Colombian government and FARC guerrillas held secret exploratory meetings with regard to future peace negotiations. The FARC increased the pressure on the government with several attacks in order to put them in a stronger negotiating position. One such attack occurred in May 2012, in which the guerrillas killed 12 soldiers, just 150 metres inside Colombian territory in La Guajira. Immediately after the attack, the guerrillas crossed back over the border to the safety of Venezuela.
Also in May 2012, they made an attempt on the life of one of their nemeses, Fernando Londoño, who served as the interior minister under President Uribe before hosting his own radio show on which he continually berated the guerrillas. As his armoured car stopped at traffic lights on Avenida Caracas in Bogotá, a man casually approached the car and attached a bomb next to the fuel tank. It exploded, killing the driver and a bodyguard, while Londoño was left bloodied, with a lacerated lung and ruptured eardrum.
Undeterred, President Santos forged ahead with plans to commence peace negotiations. In July 2012, he travelled to the town of Toribío in Cauca to look for solutions to ending the armed conflict in that state which had been witness to so much violence. Just a year earlier, the FARC had exploded a bomb on a chiva or traditional bus in front of the town’s police station before following up with an attack, killing four people, injuring over 100 and damaging or destroying over 400 houses.
Explosives were found on a soccer field where the president’s helicopter was to land. They were detonated in a controlled manner by the army, but another landing area was arranged nonetheless. The FARC, in defiance, fired their rifles from the surrounding mountains while they also set up a checkpoint on the road just outside of town. It was a demonstration of their power in the region. Peace talks commenced later that year.
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We made a couple of trips back to Colombia, including Christmas in 2006 when we began looking into the housing market. The Colombian real estate market was booming after a bad period in the 1990s when the cartels of Medellín and Cali were made defunct. The drug bosses had invested much of their profits back into the Colombian economy which helped to increase property prices. The FARC, who had increased their share of the cocaine trade, were not so keen in supporting the country’s economic system and buried a lot of their profit in the ground, literally.
In April 2003, over 140 Colombian soldiers were searching for the three kidnapped American contractors in the jungle of Caquetá when they came across a FARC camp and discovered a buried treasure, known as a guaca, containing around $20 million in cash. They divided up the booty between them depending on their rank – the higher the rank the larger the cut – and upon returning to their base in Popayán they went on a spending spree, buying designer clothes and fancy cars as well as hitting the local brothels night after night and giving big tips. This was clearly not possible on an average military wage. Many of them deserted the army and they were eventually convicted a decade later and sentenced to several years in prison while only 10 percent of the money was recovered by authorities. At least the soldiers had contributed to the economy!
Christmas was spent with Lily’s family. Colombians celebrate on Christmas Eve as opposed to Christmas Day. I’m not sure I like this tradition. I think I prefer the excitement of waking up on Christmas morning, eager to find out what Santa has delivered. From a child’s perspective of course!
During the first week of January 2007, Lily travelled to her home town which was part of the zona roja or red zone, implying danger, and still considered too dangerous for me to visit so I used the opportunity to meet up with my friends in Cartagena. The ‘Bogotá Bloc’ were all there – Ally, Andy, Chris and Rusty.
The Cali and Medellín mafias held competing parties during this period in Cartagena and we went to the Cali party as Ally had some connections to the Cali crew. He and Andy had recently entered the nightclub business, buying a minority stake in Gótica which was controlled by Mauricio ‘Cacho’ Moreno, the top nightclub impresario of Bogotá’s zona rosa. Cacho had opened the first club to play electronic music in Bogotá in the mid-1980s while he opened Gótica in 1996. This was the same club I’d partied at with Thomas McFadden several years earlier. Now, with Ally and Andy as part-owners, whenever I went there I got the red-carpet treatment.
The Cali mafia party held in early January 2007 in Cartagena had some internationally renowned DJs playing and there was also, obviously, a heavy presence of narcos. A square-shaped bar was positioned about 20 metres from the stage and the front side of the bar was reserved for the mafia-types only. By the early hours of the morning I had forgotten my place and after buying a drink I leant up against the front side facing the stage. Within seconds, a gangster, dr
ipping in gold jewellery and carrying his own bottle of Chivas Regal scotch whiskey, came up and shrugged his shoulders at me. I immediately knew what he meant and I moved away from the bar. He smiled at me, happy that I had acknowledged his power. He added, ‘Eso es.’ That’s it. He didn’t even have to say one word to get the ‘gringo’ to move!
The following day we all took a boat to a beach directly across from the Bocagrande peninsula. The beach was empty except for three men and a clearly surgically enhanced curvaceous woman, who were all sunning themselves in deckchairs by the water’s edge, while another six men sat at a table under a tree a few metres back. It was clear these guys were narcos and the six men sitting at the table were their bodyguards. One of the bodyguards would come over regularly with a bottle of rum, first asking the man with the girlfriend, ‘Más ron, patrón?’ More rum, boss? The mafia word for boss was unmistakable and we watched all afternoon as they frolicked by the sea and enjoyed the fruits of their labour.
The dark side of Colombia is still there but you have to look for it. When I first arrived in the country, it found you. While they have gone more underground in recent years, Cartagena during the Christmas/New Year period is the best place to see the country’s gangsters as they still love to splash their cash and enjoy the good times, and there is no better time and place to do it than the festive season in the country’s party capital.
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THE NEXT GENERATION
Lily and I made another trip to Colombia in April 2009 with our first-born daughter, flying into Medellín which had converted into a war zone with a battle underway for control of the Oficina de Envigado which was also fighting off incursions from paramilitary leader Don Mario. After around three dozen people were killed in the city over a two-day period, about 500 soldiers and 300 police officers were brought in to try to stem the violence.
