WELCOME

The bloody, 60-year conflict in Colombia has touched every village, every church and every family in the war-torn country. It has created the worst humanitarian crisis in the western hemisphere, yet few in the U.S. know about it.

In the last 20 years alone 70,000 people have died—mostly innocent civilians. More than four million have fled the violence, making Colombia home to the second largest internally displaced population in the world.

And the violence persists. In recent years, Colombian soldiers have murdered nearly 1,000 innocent people and thousands of others continue to endure violation of their human rights at the hands of paramilitary and guerilla forces.

By and large these stories go untold. Truth is silenced with fear and deadly oppression. But to achieve peace, the voices of the victims must be heard.

Lutheran World Relief works with partners in Colombia to give voice to the men, women and children who have suffered oppression, violence, and even death over the course of this horrific conflict.

It is our hope, and the hope of our partners, that through this exhibit you will learn more about the conflict in Colombia and, more crucially, be motivated to act.

We cannot change the painful history of Colombia, but together we can change the future.

WHO MADE THE ART?

The art came directly from Colombia and was created and inspired by victims of violence.

The gallery’s foundation consists of testimonies from individual victims and entire communities affected by violence in San Onofre, Sucre, and the province of Putumayo—primarily from the areas of La Hormiga and San Miguel.

Several Lutheran World Relief partner organizations worked to construct the gallery: Asociación MINGA, Fundación Manuel Cepeda, Agenda Caribe and Entrópico Theatre group.

Accompanied by Lutheran World Relief, these organizations have spent years with these communities, working to record their testimonies, promote healing and advocate for justice.

FACES OF THE MISSING

Armed groups have seized thousands of people, who are often never heard from again. Each day their families wait, hoping for some news of their whereabouts. Denied the most basic right to closure — a body to bury, a casket to adorn, a grave to visit — the nightmare for these families never ends. In Colombia, 17,000 disappearances have been registered with the National District Attorney’s office. Most of them will go unsolved.

THE DISAPPEARED

These are the faces of “the disappeared.” In recent years, approximately 3,000 people have gone missing in the municipality of Putumayo and are believed to have been murdered. Of those, 500 were from the town of Puerto Caicedo. The bodies of many disappeared people in Colombia now lie in mass graves where they wait to be excavated and identified. Colombia is home to hundreds of mass graves and in early 2010, a grave containing hundreds of bodies was discovered.

At the exhibit you’ll sift through these photos of loved ones lost and uncover a magnitude of loss that the people of Putumayo understand all too well.

WITHOUT LAND AND WITHOUT DREAMS

Nearly four million Colombians have fled their homes amidst the terror of violence, threats, aerial fumigations and combat between armed groups. With few choices, many end up in Colombia’s urban slums, the overcrowded homes of families in provincial capitals, or make-shift shelters in towns willing to accept them. Colombia has the second highest rate of displacement in the world — second only to Sudan — and displacement in Colombia represents the worst chronic humanitarian crisis in the western hemisphere.

THE DISPLACED

Soacha is a poor suburb located near the capital city of Bogotá. As violence reaches the farthest corners of Colombia’s countryside, this community struggles to absorb displaced families seeking shelter, safety and refuge. These are images of internally displaced people (IDPs) living in Soacha, where conditions are cramped and difficult, and safety is uncertain with illegal armed groups operating in the area.

In 2008, 22 young men from Soacha were abducted and murdered. Their families believe the corpses were falsely presented by the Colombian army as enemies killed in combat. The mothers of these innocent young men try to keep their memories alive, but some face death threats for publicizing the killings.

Displaced people in Soacha have few options—they’ve already left their homes in smaller towns and cities only to find more violence and hardship. They feel there is no escape from the suffering.

Have you ever moved to a new place? Did you feel lost or out of sorts? As you view this piece, consider the nearly four million displaced Colombians who have moved not by choice but by force. They must now adapt to a new city and social expectation while coping with the tremendous sense of loss and trauma.

SILENCING THE VOICES OF CHANGE

In Colombia, rejecting violence is not just controversial - it's deadly. On September 11, 1998 Padre Alcides (pictured), a parish priest in Putamayo, was shot 18 times by two armed men while giving a sermon promoting peace. His crime? Community organizing, promoting sustainable agriculture, helping poor farmers earn more money, and promoting peaceful alternatives to conflict. Padre Alcides remains a symbol of pride and hope in Putumayo, but his death is also a chilling reminder of the violence that has plagued the province.

Paramilitary and guerilla groups have killed hundreds of social leaders like Padre Alcides, simply for promoting peace instead of conflict. Social leaders who do survive face constant persecution. These conditions weaken peace-building efforts, often forcing leaders to flee or stop their work entirely.

THE ASSASSINATED LEADERS

Colombia is often called the “Country of the Sacred Heart”, due to the annual consecration of the country to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The Sacred Heart metaphorically refers to Christ’s love for humanity and his mercy. In many ways the image of the Sacred Heart is also an icon that represents the many social leaders who have perished as a result of their commitment to humanity and to promoting peace in Colombia.

These are the faces of some of those leaders whose lives have been cut short or who face persecution or incarceration for promoting peace. At the exhibit you will slowly turn the spit over the flames. As you interact with the object, think of the leaders who are imprisoned. For them, trying to find justice in a cumbersome and often corrupt legal system is like going around in slow and perpetual circles.

For those who were killed, their legacy remains under attack. The heart of their efforts is only protected from the threatening flames of violence by honoring their memory and advancing their visions of peace and social change.

For most, houses of worship are sanctuaries of peace and their clergy beloved extended family. Each of these pastors and priests attends to their congregation just as your pastor attends to yours. But for them to carry out their callings they must risk death by illegal armed groups envious of their leadership.

MASSACRES AND THE CRUELTY OF WAR

In 1998, paramilitaries entered the province of Putumayo, in southern Colombia, with a deadly mission — to repress resistance and exterminate people in the municipality of Puerto Asis. One by one their deadly caravan traveled through the towns of El Tigre (1999), El Placer (2000) and La Dorada (2000) leaving 80 dead in these three small towns.

In the northern province of Sucre, the National Victims Movement documented 75 massacres between 1999 and 2000 with a total of 329 victims, massive forced disappearances, the assassination of at least 3,000 people and the displacement of 70,000 people in the province — crimes largely carried out by paramilitaries.

These violent acts represent a particularly disturbing example of the failure of both the Colombian military and the state to protect its own citizens. In the case of Putumayo, paramilitary forces operated alongside the Colombian military. In both regions, Colombian military and state security forces failed to stop the paramilitaries from raping, assaulting, murdering, and persecuting citizens at will.

THE CRUELTY OF WAR

Some cruelties of war are obvious, even to outsiders—death, loss of land and loved ones, forced recruitment, and a culture of fear. Harder to see, but equally damaging, are the effects on the human psyche.

The ongoing conflict in Colombia has robbed millions of their hopes and dreams for the future—leaving them trapped in a world of memories.

But memories are dangerous. In the harshness of reality, most Colombians cannot afford to get lost in nostalgic reminiscence. Instead, victims of war often confine their memories, tucking them away in the furthest corners of their minds. Others give themselves over to nostalgia—to memories of life and land lost, making them unable to start new lives. Very often, they end up far from extended family and permanently uprooted from their homes and land.

When you view the images in this box, consider your fondest family memories—of summer meals, camping trips, holiday traditions and the abundance of a life complemented by memories, not paralyzed by them.

A PRECIOUS RESOURCE AT RISK

A sign in a rural Colombian school reads, “Do not show fear, be safe, and speak confidently in front of armed actors.” Another reads, “We [students] are great believers, not small warriors.” Posted by a school in San Carlos, Putumayo, the signs are meant not only to fortify students but to protect them. Children are especially vulnerable to the atrocities of war. They are recruited into illegal arms groups, sexually assaulted, injured by land mines, and too often lose their parents to violence. In the face of such an assault, schools like this one have taken action by building dormitories where students can sleep safely and by trying to share components of International Humanitarian Law with armed actors — all for the sake of protecting Colombia’s most precious resource: its children.

THE WAR AND CHILDREN

Children play with toy guns all over the world, but for children in Colombia, guns—both toy and real—are a part of life. The guns you see here were made by children, aged 7 to 14, in Putumayo and they tell a haunting story of the conflict in Colombia through a child’s eyes. In 2008 a local youth group, Seeds of Peace, asked children from the community to turn in their toy guns. The young adults from Seeds of Peace hope this will help protect younger children from the violence that has permeated their own lives. This ceremony symbolically disarmed Colombia’s future generation, prioritizing a childhood of hope over a life of loss.

Through play a child acts out his or her understanding about the world—not only the joys but also the fears and incomprehensible realities. As you examine these toys, take notice of the detail incorporated into the guns and how close to violence a child has to be to conjure up such an accurate replica.

THE STORY OF LUZMILLA

Luzmila Yela knows the terror of a paramilitary assault well. In 2000, paramilitaries stormed Luzmila’s home and killed five members of her family, leaving their corpses behind as a bloody reminder of their violence. Luzmila and one of her daughters were the sole survivors. Just days later, having returned from filing an official report with the Colombian government, Luzmila came home to find the same group digging up the fresh graves of her loved ones. To date, Luzmila and her daughter continue to search for the remains of their slain family members who were taken from them.

THE WAR AND WOMEN

This quilt is made from the clothing of Yenny Patricia Galarraga (19), Monica Liliana Galarraga (18), Nelsy Milena Galarraga (18), and Maria Nelly Ramirez Meneces (12). On January 1, 2001 these sisters were abducted from the town of La Dorada by armed paramilitaries. They were never found. To honor their memory and grieve their loss, their mother, Nieves Meneces, stitched this quilt from their clothing.

Nieves calls her daughters “mis girasols” – my sunflowers. She searched frantically for her girls until she received death threats for doing so. Fearing for her life, Nieves fled Putumayo with the seven grandchildren she now raises to live in a neighboring province in what she describes as “horrible circumstances.”

In 2006, Nieves returned to Putumayo to search for the bodies of her daughters. Together with other mothers of the disappeared, Nieves carried out the horrifying task of searching through mass graves in hopes of finding their bodies. In November 2007, a re-organized paramilitary group murdered Ligia Meneces, the leader of the women’s group searching for their missing family members. Ligia’s death sent Nieves into exile again, rejoining the ranks of

Colombia’s nearly four million internally displaced people. To date, her life remains in danger for publicizing the disappearance of her daughters and openly mourning their absence. To add to her suffering, Nieves cannot return home to resume her search for the bodies of her daughters. Nieves fears the truth behind their disappearance will remain lost forever, along with the bodies of her four sunflowers.

MY SUNFLOWERS

by Nieves Meneces

Poem Translation

The earth crumbled
And the world ended for me
Step by step
Time was like an earthquake
That finishes and destroys
The earthen material

But I still continued fighting
To rebuild everything that was destroyed
But this was like a
Nightmare for me

Because I do not wake from this
Uncertainty
From this despair

After having planted and cultivated
With all my love
The garden of my four Sunflowers

I have fought
To find those seeds
That I cultivated with so much love
My dreams withered
And it broke my heart
Because I cultivated it with such high hopes

God is with me
And gave me courage
To continue with hope
Continue to build what was lost

Because my sunflowers left a little seed
By those who struggled
And to move forward
With my hands
And continue this fight

That despite the many slights and humiliations

I have been able to  continue building my life

PLAN COLOMBIA

Since 2000, the US has spent nearly $6 billion on a strategy to fight insurgents and reduce drug production in Colombia. This strategy, known as Plan Colombia, consists largely of US assistance to support Colombia's military, which has the worst human rights record in the western hemisphere. In fighting the "War on Drugs", Plan Colombia focused on aerial fumigations of coca crops, which have only led to displacement, environmental destruction and illness while having minimal impact on cocaine production in Colombia.

For many Colombians, Plan Colombia represents a policy of war that has only served to fuel the conflict, weaken rural communities and undermine local peace initiatives. Lutheran World Relief, along with our partners in Colombia and the US, has long advocated for a shift in US policy toward Colombia—advocating for increased social investment, greater humanitarian support, a negotiated end to conflict and protection of human rights.

PLAN COLOMBIA AND AERIAL FUMIGATIONS

One of the main goals of Plan Colombia is to destroy coca crops, the plant used to make cocaine, through aerial fumigation. Small planes fly over the countryside releasing a toxic chemical over coca crops. Unfortunately this spray also poisons other crops — in some instances, whole farms — and contaminates water sources. The chemicals also cause illness and leave rural families unable to support themselves. This practice has contributed to a mass exodus of farmers in search of new land and food sources. Putumayo was once the center of the fumigation campaign. Despite the fumigation campaign, coca crops still dominate much of rural Colombia’s landscape.

As you view this piece, consider the terror of planes flying overhead, dousing poison on your home, your family, and your only means of livelihood.

PLAN COLOMBIA AND PALM OIL

For rural Colombians, Plan Colombia brought on forced displacement by companies wanting their land to produce African palm, a lucrative plant that produces oil used to process food and for bio-fuel. In the most notorious cases, entire communities were forced from their lands through intimidation and violence. Those few who dared return found their farms, once used for food crops, now dominated by African palm plantations. These plants leach essential soil nutrients and require substantial water for survival—leaving few resources to grow food for community needs. The Colombian government and the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) support the expansion of palm crops in Colombia, yet have failed to fully protect the rights of farmers and Afro-Colombian communities pushed from their lands by illegal armed forces.

These images were taken from a technical manual used to grow and cultivate African palm. Although the pictures look fairly positive, the resulting crops devastate impoverished rural communities, robbing them of food and precious natural resources.

PLAN COLOMBIA AND EXTRAJUDICIAL EXECUTIONS

The Colombian government, with U.S. support, intensified the war against insurgents. Tragically, as the war intensified, the Colombian army prioritized results over ethics and created a series of incentives for foot soldiers to capture or kill guerillas. These incentives, coupled with the pressures of war and, in many cases, soldiers’ tendency to classify entire communities as guerilla sympathizers, has led soldiers to kill innocent civilians. Often, soldiers dress their victims in guerilla fatigues and present them as enemies downed in combat. From July 2002 to February 2010, human rights groups and Colombian judicial authorities documented cases in which over 2,000 civilians were killed outside of combat by the armed forces — extrajudicial executions, also known as false positives. Both the U.S. and Colombian governments have failed to adequately monitor and enforce human rights in this context, allowing the practice of extrajudicial killings to continue for years. Although by 2009 the Colombian government took steps to address extrajudicial killings, resulting in a decline, the families still lack justice. Abuses, including disappearances, continue.

Overwhelmingly, the victims of extrajudicial executions are poor, rural peasants murdered in a series of vicious and premeditated steps. This book tells the story of a young boy who, like all children, wonders what he will be when he grows up. He asks the mirror “What will I become?” As the story unfolds, it tells the tale of how young men fall victim to extrajudicial executions in Colombia. A child’s life—which should be a story of wonder and hope—is drastically distorted by the brutal violence children in Colombia will grow up to experience.