“Al parecer me van a pelar”; these were the words that greeted me as I opened the notification on my phone from a friend in Colombia. This was not the first time that David (pseudonym used) has shared the risks he has faced, but this was on a different level, more urgent and immediate than ever before. He found out yesterday that he was still perceived as a threat to an armed group in the area and that they were going to kill him. Any number of possible motivations for this threat to his life might have just popped into your mind now. Perhaps your first thought is that David is tied up in the drugs trade or criminal activity in the area; or perhaps he is a member of a rival group. Or you might have heard of the considerable number of social leaders and human rights defenders that have been killed in Colombia and assumed that he holds this type of role in his community. But the truth is that in many ways he is an ordinary person, a farmer, just trying to move forward with his life, doing his best to make a living and look after his family. Now, he may lose his life for his previous involvement with the FARC-EP and his commitment to not taking up arms again. 

I came to know David when I was in Colombia for my research. As is so often the case, meeting him was not planned, instead a serendipitous crossing of paths that opened up a series of opportunities to share experiences and ideas. He has always struck me as someone who sees the process for what it is; a realist, a pragmatist, rather than being unnecessarily critical and negative like so many others can be. I value his candour.

Despite the numerous challenges faced, he has always been resolute on his choice to lay down arms, to leave the conflict behind and work towards a peaceful society. As with many, a strong motivation for this is his family and in particular, his children. Wanting a better future for them is no longer a hopeful cliché, but an urgent requirement.  I respect his resolution and commitment. Despite strong pressure to join armed groups operating in the area, he has refused. Despite struggling to make a living, he has never accepted offers from these groups that would have taken away the financial pressure. And now, even with the possibility of losing his life, he would prefer to die than betray his principles. He hopes he can talk. He hopes they will listen.  

It is in these moments that the realities of the implementation of the peace process come sharply into focus, the considerable failings of so many of the six points in the agreement from rural reform to security guarantees. Since the signing of the peace agreement, 237 ex-combatants have been killed. The simplistic rhetoric of ‘good guys’ and ‘bad guys’ that is so popular in some contexts, does not apply here. Although the current situation is worse given the failure of the state to gain an effective presence in areas originally controlled by the FARC-EP, that is not the full story. In some cases, armed and criminal groups have exploited the vacuum that was left and seized control, but we have also seen state forces turning a blind eye or directly implicated in the operations and activities of these groups. 

David’s experience since laying down arms has been characterised by the complex intersection of so many dynamics. The hope that surged four years ago from the Colombian government and FARC-EP reaching a historic and comprehensive agreement is waning. The logics of conflict continue to play out in this post-agreement scenario that remains far from the post-conflict journey to a sustainable peace that so many hoped to see. As with any agreement, this was a compromise, not any one side’s ideal solution but one reached that all could take forward to transform the country for the better of all. Its implementation would be, is, will be harder for some than others, but with so much to lose if peace is not embraced, it has to be worth it. We have to get out of the trenches. 

Sadly, I only see polarisation and stigmatisation. As the infamous year of referenda proved, we have moved into a global trend away from generosity in how we see others, away from respect and meaningful dialogue at a societal level. We have stopped listening, if we can honestly say we ever were. Instead, we make split-second judgements on others within a black and white, binary view of the world. In Colombia this polarisation is exacerbated by conflict logics that direct you to look at everyone through a ‘them and us’ lens. Choices are reduced to one of two options with neutrality an impossibility, a lack of affiliation taken as a choice to be with ‘them’. David experiences this in the middle of the countryside through the stigma of former affiliations and the ongoing pressures from armed groups. But, this is just as apparent in the narratives that circulate and frame discussions over the dinner table in the middle of Bogotá or in the debates in Congress. 

And this goes further. When we don’t listen, we stop being open to who someone else is, rather than who we think they are or were. I remember one long conversation with David where he told me all that had happened to his family in the conflict, how he came to join the FARC-EP. None of what he told me would be a surprise or strange to those familiar with Colombia’s violent past. He asked me if I would have done the same, made the same choices. The honest truth is, and this is what I told him, without having lived what he has lived I can never know what choices I would have made, but I can understand his decisions. And this is important. We need to be honest with and self-critical of ourselves, generous with others and recognise the humanity in all of us.  

“Si no te vuelvo a escribir ya sabes” (If I don’t write to you again, you know why). I truly hope that this is not David’s last message to me.