Amanda, my girlfriend, recently came to visit. She’s lovely. For a time we were in and around Medellín, one of the largest cities in Colombia. While there we stayed in a cabaña at a homely, peaceful retreat center that is typically used by catholic monks on spiritual retreats. The retreat center and we were taken care of by Antonia, Pablo and their family (not their real names).Amanda and I, while busying ourselves with stuff recently reunited couples do, found out the retreat center had a steam room (I guess Catholic monks find sweating together useful). Antonia asked Amanda and me if we wanted to join her and Pablo for a time in the steam room. So we spent some time soaking (and watching each other soak) in our own juices and chatting. There with our sweat flowing into the same drain Antonia and Pablo told us of how they had to leave their farm in southern Colombia after receiving threats from guerrillas and how they had been waiting two years with 30 other displaced families to be given a small parcel of land by the government.
I was glad that Amanda could hear some of Antonia and Pablo’s story (all the better in a steam room) because it gave a personal example of the reality of millions in Colombia. Many people now in the states are familiar that there’s an “issue” with displacement in Colombia. A few may even know that with 4 million Colombia has the second largest internally displaced population in the world (1st is Sudan). But I haven’t heard many people recognize that so many campesinos being forced of their land translates into a nationwide, highly illegal, informal agrarian counter-reform. Along with the pain it brings those it affects, displacement is dramatically changing who owns the land in Colombia.
In some cases folks flee their land due to threats from guerrilla, paramilitaries and/or militaries and other people take advantage of their absence to occupy their land. Recently however, a handful of large oil palm growers were subpoenaed by the attorney general’s office for contracting paramilitaries to forcefully displace small farmers to make space for their oil palms (palm oil is found in most supermarket products). Although the subpoenas are recent, this practice is not. For years, small farmers have struggled to return to their lands only to find it suddenly enveloped in large banana or oil palm plantations. Where I live there is a lot of concern that increasing violent pressure to displace will come to peace community members and other small farmers to make room for coal mines, oil palms, or large dams.
Its this horrible, terrible, overwhelmingly saddening and seemingly inevitable trend that makes the work of the peace community, whose principles of neutrality and solidarity prevent displacement, and the Association of Antioquian Farmers, who assist farmers returning to their land, (and our accompaniment of them) so important. Most of the peace community members I live with have displaced and returned to their land various times with the help of the rest of the community. The peace community however, continues to be affected by this agrarian counter-reform. The largest village in the peace community is itself a displacement site that people moved to in 2005 after the state put a police post in their previous village. They haven’t been able to return to that site unfortunately because the state (i.e. police and military) maintains a strong presence there (thus making holding principles of neutrality impossible).
Along with the pain and loss of desplacement we need to see it as an agrarian counter-reform. I hate agrarian counter-reform. It makes me fear the future of Colombian. What happens to the campesinos displace to a city economy and culture? Who owns the land once they leave? Who are the ones that will control Colombia's food supply? I hope that the efforts the peace community and many other communities and organizations can stem the tide a bit. I hope that FOR’s work can make it safer for them as they do so.
Here are a photos of my time with Amanda and just life in the peace community:
