On a Sunday afternoon in Medellin, I wandered around an outdoor farmer’s market not unlike the familiar one in Norwich. Thousands of Colombians biked past on a street temporarily closed to cars. Next to the produce tents, families took photos in a carefully planted butterfly garden. The tranquil garden was a strange sight in a country that has suffered from the longest civil war in the Western hemisphere (52 years).
Only two decades ago, Medellin had the highest murder rate in the world. Colombia had a radio station dedicated solely to broadcasting messages between kidnapping victims and their families. When my grandmother’s bridge group back home learned I had been alone on the Medellin subway, they called her in concern.
But today’s Colombia is miles ahead of the Colombia of my grandparents’ — or even my parents’— generation. On the subway platform I was reprimanded for stepping over the yellow line. The country seems safe, thriving, and, if a national referendum passes on Oct. 2, on the brink of lasting peace.
At the end of this month, the FARC (Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia) will sign a peace agreement with the Colombian government. The guerrilla group has murdered, kidnapped and terrorized the Colombian public for five decades.
During the first month of my post-Hanover High School gap year, I have watched the national debate over the referendum play out on billboards, signs and taxicab windows. I spoke with a variety of Colombians about their views on the referendum. Everyone with whom I spoke was thoughtful and willing to share their thoughts with a young American.
For the “si” voters, the agreement is an opportunity for a peaceful new beginning. Jorge Marquez, enjoying a coffee at an outdoor cafe with his wife in Bogota, told me he is “voting yes for peace, for women and children, and for the future of Colombia.”
The “no” voters want to see the FARC members brought to justice, not handed political power and granted amnesty. As one undecided voter explained to me, “The people in the countryside want the FARC to pay. I’m religious so I think the FARC will pay in hell.”
The debate between justice and peace is not unique to Colombia. In Rwanda, murderers and perpetrators of genocide were granted amnesty to allow the country to move forward. The same was true in Bosnia, Northern Ireland and El Salvador. Any conflict resolution must balance the need to condemn those who have wronged with the need for a peaceful and sustainable future.
Colombia’s final peace agreement is the result of four years of peace talks in Havana. The FARC has agreed to a cease-fire and disarmament. In exchange, the Colombian government temporarily guaranteed the FARC 10 non-voting seats in Congress. In the 2018 election cycle, the group may participate in elections as a legitimate political party.
All guerrillas will be granted amnesty for their crimes, which include murder, rape, drug dealing and kidnapping. The harshest punishment is mandatory community service.
Camillo Salazar, an engineering student in Bogota, grew up in a small Colombian village. Salazar lived in constant fear of the surrounding guerrillas. He believes that the FARC, who have caused 220,000 deaths and displaced 7 million people, must pay for their crimes: “They need to serve jail time.” He scorns urban Colombians, saying that they were insulated from the violence while “people like us on the farm” had to witness it every day.
As I walked down the main avenue in Bogota, a smiling man handed me a flyer declaring “Vote yes and let’s end this war already!” Alvaro Gomez, a doorman in Bogota, shares this view, “There’s been enough violence, enough killing.” Although he is leaning toward yes, Gomez –– like many young people –– will not vote in October. The referendum’s passage depends on Colombia’s ability to turn a blind eye to the past in favor of a brighter future.
Opposition to the peace agreement seems to go hand in hand with disapproval of President Juan Manuel Santos, the chief negotiator of the Havana peace agreement. Camillo Salazar, the engineering student who grew up in a coffee-growing village, suggests, “The only thing Santos wants is the Nobel Peace Prize.”
Matteo Orozco, an undecided voter who works on his grandfather’s coffee farm, even hinted that President Santos might be “one of them (the FARC).”
The face of the referendum’s opposition is former president Alvaro Uribe, who launched a full-scale war against the FARC during his presidency. He opposes the leniency of the FARC’s punishment, the $200 monthly stipends to members of the FARC, and the FARC’s potential access to political power.
Like President Uribe, Matteo Orozco worries that giving the FARC political power is an invitation to corruption. The quasi-Marxist party may threaten the typically conservative Colombian government. He fears that if the FARC gains power, “(Colombia) will turn into Venezuela.”
But Colombia is not Venezuela. I believe the country is on the road to an enduring peace. A recent poll by a Colombian radio station found that 62 percent will vote yes. Even citizens who told me they oppose the agreement predict it will pass.
If Colombia votes yes for peace, it will undoubtedly be at the expense of justice. But justice is often a worthwhile sacrifice for a permanent end to violence.
On the “vote yes for peace” website, the slogan is Donde habea guerra, habrea paz. Where there was war, there will be peace. In Medellin, once the most murder-ridden city in the world, a butterfly garden serves as a symbol of hope, transformation, and –– perhaps –– peace.
Katrina Wheelan is a Hanover High graduate who is spending a gap year in South America.