Lessons from Bolivia: Integrated Development and Concerted Coca Reduction in Post-Conflict Colombia

Introduction

“We want policies built from the ground up, we don’t want subsidies from the government, but concerted plans, and then we are willing to get rid of coca.” –Balvino Polo, Caquetá Colombia[i]

In February 2017, a delegation of 8 coca growers from across Colombia traveled to Bolivia to learn about the country’s shift from forced eradication and conditioned alternative development to community coca control and integrated development. Through meetings with civil society, social organizations, and government ministries, the delegation was encouraged to envision how Bolivia’s experiences could apply to Colombia, where coca reduction has emerged as a critical point in the historic post-conflict transition.

 Colombia’s government-FARC peace agreement, signed in September 2016, brought renewed vigor to crop reduction programs. Accordingly, officials assert that unlike coca reduction strategies of the past, “alternative development” in a post-conflict environment will achieve unprecedented success. President Santos said “with the FARC’s commitment to help substitute illicit crops we can reach a solution to the drug trafficking problem.”[ii] However, a look at the experience of neighbor Bolivia demonstrates that crop substitution programs have failed to combat illicit cultivation in Colombia for structural reasons beyond the armed conflict. Since the agreement, the coexistence of crop substitution programs with violent forced eradication has generated mistrust, and sparked protest among coca farming communities across the country.

Although completely eradicating illicit crop production is impossible given the demand-driven nature of the industry, transforming development programs cooperatively with affected communities could both reduce coca cultivation and secure social peace. To do this, there are a number of lessons Colombia can learn from Bolivia.

Read the full article published by the Andean Information Network here: 

---

[i] “Cocaleros miran a Bolivia para el plan de Paz de Colombia.” Associated Press/El Nuevo Herald. 25 Feb. 2017. Web. 25 Feb. 2017.

[ii] “Presidente de Colombia: las FARC ayudarán a resolver el problema del narcotrafico.” Sputnik Mundo. 6 Sep 2016. Web. 19 Jan 2017.

Today we respect the cato of coca in peace: Interview with Leonardo Loza, Coca Union Leader

Interview Date: January 14^th 2016 

Yanoff: Could you explain your role in the Six Federations of the Cochabamba Tropics (Chapare) and in coca policy?

Loza: I’m Leonardo Loza. I belong to the Intercultural Federation of the Chimore as the executive of this federation. I am also the Vice President of the Six Federations of the Cochabamba Tropics known as the cocaleros.[1] I am also the Departmental President of the Movement Towards Socialism (MAS) Party of Cochabamba. I am also the National Executive of the Confederation of Intercultural Indigenous Communities of Bolivia.

In terms of community coca control, which we implement here in the Cochabamba Tropics, it is more communitarian, social, organic, and union-oriented. We don’t need a repressive force, worse if it is an external force. It is internal, between colleagues, person to person, member to member. They tend to their catos of coca and if anyone commits any infraction or doesn’t respect their cato of coca he/she is sanctioned by the coca union; organic sanctions. First by drawing their attention to the issue, then eradicating the cato of coca.  There are definitely also cases of expulsion [from the unions], for the colleagues that are absolutely undisciplined.

Yanoff: Could you describe a bit more what social changes are most evident since the cato agreement and the coca reforms? How have conditions changed in the Chapare?

Loza: Since 2006 pretty much everything has changed around here. Before 2006 during supposed coca and narcotics control, [they] sowed death in the Cochabamba Tropics. [They] sowed tears, pain and mourning. There were many prisoners, many people unjustly persecuted, accused of being terrorists and drug traffickers. There was not only coca eradication in the Chapare, but there was a definitive policy to exterminate the producers of the coca leaf; to displace them from their land. This was the Cochabamba Tropics of the past. We had more than 100 deaths from our marches, blockades and activities.

Thank God we made a political decision, with our brother, the current President Evo Morales leading us. It cost us almost twenty years of struggle in the Chapare, and at the national level. We transformed our local struggle into an electoral one.

We built a political mechanism and ran for office in less than ten years. Our party has grown enormously across the country. And then in 2006 we won the elections for the first time with a political instrument built in the streets, in mobilizations, in syndical struggles…After this, we implemented the cato of coca. [This was] obviously an organic decision, a syndical decision, but also a political decision, because until then coca was penalized, demonized, sanctioned by different laws not only on a national level, but also internationally.

We have had a huge assignment since 2006. First we began with the Constitution…In which we included our coca leaf so that it is constitutionally respected, so that no neoliberals or political party can reverse it or talk about zero coca in the Cochabamba Tropics or in Bolivia.

Our cato of coca is 40 by 40, 1600 square meters per union member in the Cochabamba Tropics. Throughout the country we are trying to consolidate 20,000 hectares of coca.

Out of the 20,000, 7,000 are in the Cochabamba Tropics. We internally respect this quantity as an organization. If a community member plants a parcel, he has the right to renew it or move it to another place, but there is a huge level of community control. In every union we have formed a committee of community control. Every month this committee goes around to check the plots and observe which colleagues are respecting the cato and which are not. This has been a great policy.

Another one of the best practices in all of Latin America that Bolivia has found is in the fight against drug trafficking. We do not need any uniformed American to come and help us anymore. We have created a policy against drug trafficking that belongs to the Bolivian people, between our government and the coca leaf producers, in which we monitor ourselves without deaths, injuries, persecutions, orphans, or widows. Today the cato of coca is respected in peace. Before, the neoliberal governments left us with more than 30,000 hectares of coca. Imagine that without the American DEA, without the U.S. embassy, now we have less…

This is the work and the fruit of the Bolivian people. And we will continue with this type of control. We will continue implementing community control and disciplining ourselves so that we create a social consciousness about having to industrialize and commercialize the coca leaf. Not only within Bolivia, but our idea is to consolidate big health industries so that from here, from Bolivia, we can export products derived from coca leaf to the United States and the whole world.

Unfortunately, the United States thinks that [growing] coca is drug trafficking. So we will introduce them to how our industrialized coca leaf can save lives. It is not what they think: that coca destroys lives.

We are now developing a new General Coca Law, and after our electoral conjectures we will meet with our brothers in the Yungas of La Paz and we will develop a law to present to the national congress, and congress will create an explicit law on coca: how to produce it, how much can be produced, how it should be industrialized, how it should be commercialized, what will be the system to control the catos of coca.

One of the most harmful aspects of the old Law 1008 was combining coca with drug trafficking. We absolutely will separate a law clearly for coca and a different law clearly for controlling drug trafficking, which is something illegal and we do not support such activities that some community members unfortunately carry out. So I feel that on the coca issue, not only for the producers of coca leaf, but also for the Bolivian people overall, it is important to develop a consciousness that coca leaf was for years stigmatized, and that it should be definitively freed under industrialization.

Yanoff: In the Law 1008 reforms, in making this distinction between coca and drug trafficking, how do you think that will change the process of penalizing drugs? As the current Law 1008 ambiguously classifies different sentences, will reforming this law have a more hardline effect on drug trafficking?

Loza: First of all, our coca leaf has to be legally and technically recognized and respected. Not only on the national level, but also around the world. Because the coca leaf in its natural state has never hurt anyone, has never drugged anyone, has never made anyone crazy. On the contrary, the person who chews coca leaf is a colleague who thinks better. For example, for President Evo Morales, if we are developing a general law on coca it is so that the rest of the world legally recognizes that coca leaf in its natural state is not harmful and should be commercialized like any other product. This is our political and legal intention.

For drug trafficking, we will of course pass a law to address this… But we want the law against drug trafficking to involve many national organisms as well as countries around the world.  Even if Bolivia or parts of Latin America produce coca, even if some community members malignantly use coca to traffic drugs, this drug trafficking can’t only be combatted at home. If here there is drug trafficking it is because someone outside is consuming it.

So we want to get consumers, users, those that pay millions for drug trafficking involved. These countries that are part of the problem have to invest economic resources to fight drug trafficking. So that they don’t just criticize, observe, disparage, and disqualify, as they have done thus far. If the demand for drugs disappeared, I am sure that there would be zero drug trafficking…

Yanoff: Following the expulsion of the DEA how has Bolivia worked with other international forces in the implementation of these policies, such as the UN or the EU?

Loza:  Expelling the U.S. embassy, the CIA, and the American military was one of the best policies of our government. There are plenty of other regions and other organizations, such as the United Nations and the European Union. What is our understanding with the European Union? First, that Bolivia has to be respected. Just because they give us funding does not mean, like in the past, that they can dictate the policies that should be implemented by the Bolivian people. In this sense, we have had a good understanding with the European Union.

The European Union cooperates with us economically, but the policies are decided in Bolivia, transparently, with sovereignty. Resources from the European Union are converted into policies, social programs, productive [diversification] programs, programs that improve [industrial] production in coca growing regions, but also in surrounding areas near where coca is produced to ensure that coca production does not expand…

Yanoff: You spoke of the commercialization of coca, how is this project advancing. Is there more international support for this or not yet?

Loza: We have made progress…We were very pleased and celebrated that our brother President [Evo Morales] lifted and showed the coca leaf in the United Nations. Maybe many countries thought that a tree directly produced drug trafficking. But our brother, the President, publically showed to the world that the coca leaf is a natural renewable resource that can be especially beneficial to poor people around the world.

Our President, and international officials, spread the word about exporting coca leaf in its natural state as well as in industrialized form, obviously following all of the norms of the international community…We are prepared for national control, and international control, as long as each person’s dignity is respected.

 Q: Do you think community control has changed international prohibitionist norms? How has Bolivia been a part of a new movement for alternatives to prohibitionism and questioned longstanding norms?

A: Yes, absolutely. It has been an alternative and a unique example…Because the classic War on Drugs imposes policies, imposes funding, imposes arms, and deaths. This kind of fight against drug trafficking is gone and has accomplished nothing. If we look at Peru, if we look at Colombia: they [U.S.] invest so much money, they send millions of dollars, and how is the fight against drug trafficking going in Peru and Colombia? Production of coca is rising. In Bolivia we don’t have support from the U.S., we don’t have support from the International Monetary Fund and how is our fight against drug trafficking? A shining example. We have another form of fighting drug trafficking. In Bolivia we have set a great example for the rest of the world that you can fight drug trafficking with cooperation and participation, without any imposition…

I hope that our brother countries like Peru and Colombia obtain what we have adopted in Bolivia. To rid themselves of foreign policies in the interest of a group, of a country, of some politicians in the empire [U.S.] that will not solve anything. The fight against drug trafficking can change with a policy based on the participation of my fellow coca growers, who know and express what they think, not only in Bolivia where we are advancing, but also in the rest of the world.

Q: So you do not think that tensions still exist with armed forces in the Chapare or in the rest of Bolivia? Even with the implementation of eradication and interdiction measures?

A: No. In the past, coca producers and uniformed officials were like water and oil, we could not trust each other and we hated each other. It was a very troubling situation. Today, the control comes from the state: the military and national police. And we are like brothers in the union, in the federation, in all of Bolivia. We plan in a cooperative way how we will intervene if a community member has exceeded his/her cato of coca. We organize between producers, the government, the police and the military. We plan with these four or five state institutions how we can intervene, in peace and tranquility, with consensus…Today we are very happy that we have found this kind of fight against drug trafficking that no one imposes, but rather, works together.

Q: My last question: how do you think the system of community control could be improved? What are the next steps to make it better?

A: I am sure that as time passes, new things will come up. Things always change, time passes, time progresses, and in this sense I am sure that we will continue to perfect community control, and will continue to implement new things…We are not all the same, we don’t know everything, there will always be something missing. But as necessary, we will keep thinking in the fight against drug trafficking, keep thinking of Bolivia, and we will keep perfecting it.

                 

*Interview conducted for NYU Senior Honors Thesis "Between Drug Control and Human Rights: Bolivia's Alternative to Prohibitionism." Full interview originally published on Andean Information Network website.

---

[1] In January 2016, Loza was the Vice President of the Six Federations of the Chapare. He no longer holds this position, but is still a leader of MAS and a coordinator of the Six Federations.

Following Trump’s Playbook: How Scapegoating Justifies Exclusionary Immigration Policies

Donald Trump’s recent executive orders, including banning entry from 7 predominantly Muslim countries, refusing to welcome refugees, and an unwavering although still logistically unclear commitment to building a wall on the southern border with Mexico, puts the U.S. in the lead for exclusionary and divisive nationalism. These policies, which materialized the rhetoric from Trump’s campaign trail (including the infamous accusations that Mexican immigrants are drug-dealers and rapists), reflect more clearly than ever how minorities continue to be the scapegoat for dissatisfied white people, struggling with economic anxiety, a national “identity crisis,” and potential challenges to their status, privilege, or positions of power. With only a week in office, Trump quickly implemented policies that place external blame, rather than address longstanding structural issues. And who better to take the blame than those deemed different, the powerless, the “other”?

The U.S. has a long history of institutionalized racism and exclusionary, selective immigration policies, including the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act, and 1920s quotas meant to deter immigrants from less desirable countries, particularly in Eastern and Southern Europe. Nonetheless, as migration patterns and globalization over the past few decades have altered country demographics around the world, we see parallel tendencies to base exclusionary policies on negative characterizations of immigrants—as delinquents, criminals, and terrorists. Trump’s radical moves have only further invigorated existent xenophobic sentiments.

 In France, Marie Le Pen of the right wing “National Front” party is leading polls for the Spring presidential elections, under a platform that aims to restore the French national identity, curb immigration, and maintain “secularism” against the “threats of Islam.” The Vice President of the National Front, Steve Briois, told Agence France-Presse that the party would be open to replicating Trump’s ban, which seeks to protect the territory from terrorists. As demonstrated by growing nationalistic rhetoric, terrorist attacks in France over the past few years have contributed to a strong association between immigrant, particularly Muslim immigrant, and terrorist. In turn, in Migrant Mobilization and Securitization in the U.S. and Europe Ariane Chebel d’Appolonia argues that being labeled as a suspected threat has made immigrant integration in France particularly challenging, aiding marginalization, segregation, and in extreme circumstances, radicalization.

And just this week, in Argentina, President Mauricio Macri signed a government decree, which modifies the relatively liberal 2004 Immigration Law, in an effort to crack down on “criminal” immigrants. The new policy would accelerate the deportation of foreigners accused of grave crimes, including drug trafficking, and would also put in place greater entry controls for immigrants with a criminal record. On September 1st, a controversial detention center opened in Buenos Aires to hold undocumented immigrants, although the extent of its use is still unclear. This new decree now increases the likelihood that migrants deemed dangerous by the state be detained in such a center. This decree is in large part a response to statements by Security Minister Bullrich, who stated: “Peruvians and Paraguayans end up killing each other for control of drugs” and that she intends to reduce “the concentration of foreigners committing drug crimes.” She based these assertions on the statistic that 33% of people incarcerated for drug related crimes in Argentina are foreign. However, immigration and human rights advocates highlight both the inaccuracy of Bullrich’s figures, and the dangers of associating Argentina’s immigrant communities—largely from Paraguay, Bolivia, and Peru—with criminal activity.

According to the human rights organization CELS, the figure cited by Minister Bullrich misleadingly refers only to people detained in Federal Penitentiaries. According to CELS, foreigners represent 6% of the prison population, and 10% of the overall prison population for drug related crimes. Moreover, of those arrested for drug related crimes in the country, 83% are argentine and 17% are foreign, and only 0.06% of foreigners in Argentina are arrested for drug crimes.  In an Op-Ed published in Argentine newspaper Pagina 12, Raul Kollman argues that despite its purported intention, this policy is unlikely to impact established narcos with unlimited resources and connections, but rather, the dark-skinned, poor, Bolivians, Peruvians, Colombians, and Paraguayans will become the “suspects.” Fearing detention, deportation, and discrimination, immigrants marched in Buenos Aires to protest this backwards policy, which challenges Argentina’s historical openness to immigrants, and temporary work residency among Mercosur countries. Argentina has a rich history of immigration, with waves of immigrants coming from Spain, Italy and Eastern Europe during the 19^th and 20^th centuries. However, like the U.S., Argentina’s romanticized image as a home to immigrants falls short when it comes to immigrants of color, from poorer neighboring countries with large indigenous populations.

Trump’s actions set a dangerous precedent, and legitimize xenophobic forces around the world. In Argentina, the U.S., France, and elsewhere, the tendency to associate immigrants with criminal behavior serves an intentional political purpose. It justifies discriminatory stereotypes, deflects blame from longstanding economic and social problems, and protects existent distributions of power. While recent rhetoric and policies suggest otherwise, migrants and refugees are not entering your country to commit crimes, to take your jobs in a zero sum game, or to disrupt whatever fixed, collective values your country apparently cherishes. Although motives may be varied, and essentializing immigrant experiences can be dangerous, many move in search of a better life, often fleeing violence, economic desperation, or persecution, sacrificing the comfort of their own home for the future opportunities of their children. To reject or deport these people increases the divisions that contribute to violence. Actively combatting baseless stereotypes about immigrants and representing heterogeneous experiences are critical components of advocating for more humane immigration policies. Justifying exclusion with inaccurate characterizations about immigrants says more about “us,” than about “them.”

Transitional Justice for Peace in Colombia

The narrow “No” victory in Sunday’s plebiscite on Colombia’s government-FARC peace agreement shocked both Colombians and the international community who were preparing for an end to 52 years of internal conflict. Countering polls that indicated that the accord would be widely approved by the country’s populace, the opposition victory has now created uncertainty about the product of 4 years of negotiations.  Many analysts and opposition voters have attributed the “No” victory to the view that the accord is too lenient on the FARC. According to the agreement, members of the FARC that admit their crimes through truth reconciliations will avoid incarceration and only suffer ambiguous “restrictions of liberty” and the guerrilla group will be able to organize into a political party following disarmament.

Many critics to the agreement see these concessions as impunity. A voter interviewed by the Washington Post whose brother and uncle were kidnapped by the FARC in the 1990s said: “they need to change the accord so that there’s some kind of punishment for those who committed these crimes.” This is a perspective not only common among Colombia’s “No” voters, but also fundamental to conceptions and debates on post-conflict justice throughout the last century, originating in the creation of individual criminal responsibility for war crimes, crimes against humanity, and crimes against peace in the Nuremberg trials. Transitional justice has been a tricky subject for countless divisive, violent conflicts, including the Holocaust, genocides in Rwanda and former Yugoslavia, South African apartheid, Chilean state terror, and Salvadoran civil war. The Colombian context can learn from these former cases.

Jack Snyder and Leslie Vinjamuri argue that the “legalist” perspective of criminal justice (punishment for perpetrators of war crimes and human rights violations) has often had devastating consequences for transitions to sustained peace, especially in places with a weak rule of law and institutional incapacity for effective justice. For example, in the former Yugoslavia: “the ICTY’s decision to investigate rebel atrocities led the guerrillas to destroy evidence of mass graves, creating a pretext for hardline Slavic Macedonian nationalists to renew fighting in late November 2001 and to occupy Albanian held terrain” (Snyder, Vinjamuri 12). Despite the legitimate desires to hold perpetrators accountable for crimes, strengthen the rule of law, and assign guilt following horrific violence, Snyder and Vinjamuri argue that trials can provoke backlashes from perpetrators in the short term and a culture of perpetual resentment and polarization in the long term. Through a thorough analysis of the results of different forms of transitional justice following 20^th century conflicts, Snyder and Vinjamuri conclude that amnesties and truth commissions have “often been the basis for durable peace settlements” (43).

 Similarly, Forsythe characterizes punitive solutions to post-conflict transitions as “judicial romanticism” in that it views criminal justice as “a panacea for violations of human rights” (Forsythe 90). On the other hand, he asserts that “there are ways of doing good for individuals, and maybe even advancing certain human rights over time, through delaying or bypassing criminal justice” (Forsythe 118). Following the South African apartheid, Nelson Mandela himself advocated for truth and reconciliation commissions rather than criminal justice in order to “build a multi-racial rights-protective society” (Forsythe 115). 

Victims and their families are absolutely justified in demanding closure, accountability, and reparations from perpetrators of violence. However, the question remains: is the long-term goal of transitional justice sustained peace or reprisal? The experiences of other conflict-torn countries demonstrate that amnesties, truth reconciliations, or other alternatives to criminal justice are often more effective in moving the country forward, particularly following long-term ideological conflicts. Furthermore, truth commissions often provide more meaningful and culturally sensitive closure and accountability than punitive criminal justice. 

The context of Colombia is even more complicated considering the variety of actors that have contributed to violence. Unlike the unilateral state terror in Argentina, or the genocides of Rwanda and former Yugoslavia, violence in Colombia has been perpetrated from different sides: from the FARC, the State, paramilitary groups, and other actors. Assigning responsibility for violence would then have to impute members from all of these groups, which is highly unlikely.

The peace accord in Colombia is far from perfect. Nonetheless, it demonstrates a resounding commitment to building peace in a country afflicted by internal conflict for half a century. Building peace takes sacrifice and negotiation, but is undoubtedly preferable to the alternative. Engaging in constructive dialogue about transitional justice is crucial to promoting peace in a country so desperately ready for it.