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Michael Shifter writes of Brent Scowcroft in glowing terms for his role in promoting Plan Colombia. One thing I've noticed over the years is that advocates know Plan Colombia had some massively negative consequences, and so feel obligated to at least make some mention, but without going into detail and then head straight back to compliments. Examples from his short essay:"however seriously flawed""Criticism centered around human rights concerns""failed to achieve its highest priority objective""for all of its flaws in conception and implementation"That's a lot of qualifiers. More specifically, let's look at the most recent data from the International Displacement Monitoring Centre:This is Plan Colombia in action--it created a disaster along Syrian lines for millions of Colombians, but they just don't get much attention. President Alvaro Uribe, who was largely responsible for implementing it after he took office in 2002, is a thug who oversaw major human rights violations, and is currently under house arrest for bribing members of paramilitaries so that he wouldn't be implicated for his involvement with them.I understand fully that Plan Colombia served to ramp up the government's side in the civil war, and as a result it was able to weaken the FARC sufficiently to force it to negotiate, which stabilized the country. I am not trying to pretend that didn't happen. But it definitely needs to be seen as only side of a violent coin. Subscribe in a reader

The Canadian Council for the Americas held a webinar on the political center (sorry, centre!) in Colombia and whether it can unite. There was former Vice President Humberto de Calle (under Ernesto Samper, and he was also the head of the negotiating team with the FARC*) and then a bit later also Colombian journalists and a financier, moderated by Ken Frankel.The quick answer is that it's really tricky.De la Calle's main point was that, unlike Colombian political tradition, the center needed to start with a basic program rather than choosing a person to rally around. He gave various indicators, based on local election results and polls, about an appetite for centrist positions and parties. Centrist policy positions included agrarian reform, tax reform, pension reform, and crop substitution.But that is where the conversation got more difficult. Responses included asking where was the focus on women and youth? If the right dominated non-urban areas, how was this going to function? What are some concrete objectives? Doesn't this seem too top-down? And, fundamentally, what is the "center" anyway?Unless I missed it toward the end, when I had interruptions and missed chunks, the political mechanics of all this was missing. Who gets the ball rolling, which means controlling the message at the beginning? De la Calle advocated for self-exclusion, meaning no one would be rejected as long as they broadly accepted the program. But that depends on who defines the program.I've written before about how the FARC really screwed the democratic left in Colombia, because it's too easy to connect the left to the FARC (and nowadays also to Venezuela, though I don't know how much that actually convinces people). But I hadn't thought as much about the center. This discussion demonstrated to me how tough such a project would be. The essential question "can it unite?" just kind of hung there. Fear has served the right very well, and it's hard to overcome.* His overall political biography is really interesting. Subscribe in a reader

In my recent article in Small Wars & Insurgencies, Uncovering the sources of revolutionary violence: the case of Colombia's National Front (1958-1964), I highlight how failures to secure consent through a passive revolutionary process compelled the dominant classes to adopt coercive solutions.
The post Passive Revolution and Armed Struggle in Colombia appeared first on Progress in Political Economy (PPE).

Daniel Raisbeck


Any American who smoked pot in the 1970's likely came across Colombian marijuana. In 1979, in fact, Colombia was providing "roughly two‐​thirds of all the pot smoked" in the United States, according to Time Magazine. The industry certainly was illegal, but it also arose from an exemplary instance of bicultural exchange and bilateral trade. It was, after all, American Peace Corps volunteers who came across the legendary "Santa Marta Gold" strain on Colombia's Caribbean coast, thus kicking off the country's decade‐​long "marijuana bonanza."
The boom times for Colombian pot came to an end due to the onset of the War on Drugs—which President Nixon officially declared in 1971— and the rapid rise of indoor cannabis farming in the fifty states. Today, with nearly half of U.S. states having legalized recreational consumption, and with the end of federal prohibition perhaps in sight, is there any chance that Colombian cannabis can regain its former glory days—this time legally— in the American market? Much depends on if, when, and how federal prohibition is repealed, but also on Colombia's capacity to reform its own byzantine drug laws.
A law approved in 1986 (no. 30) defined any quantity up to 20 grams of marijuana as the "minimum dose" for personal consumption, and it applied a series of criminal charges for its possession. In 1994, however, Colombia's Constitutional Court ruled that no individual could be penalized for carrying said minimum dose. However, the law, which is still in effect, makes it a criminal offense to possess or carry a narcotic, "whatever its quantity, for the purpose of distribution or sale."
As I wrote in Foreign Policy, the minimum dose rule provides a good example of Colombia's trademark legalism: unless one grows cannabis oneself (more on which later), the only way to obtain a legal gram for personal consumption—or 20—is by buying it, illegally.
Eventually, local drug warriors would have their say. In 2009, former president Alvaro Uribe passed a Legislative Act (no. 2) which altered Article 49 of the constitution so as to prohibit "the possession and consumption of narcotic or psychotropic substances, unless prescribed by a medical doctor." The following year, Uribe's government introduced a bill (Law 248) that sought to regulate the legislative act and criminalize the minimum dose. The objective, professors Hernando Londoño and Adrian Restrepo argue, was to bolster the war against the drug cartels by targeting internal consumption. This latter initiative failed and the minimum dose was maintained. Nonetheless, by enshrining drug prohibition in the constitution, Uribe made any future reform of the country's drug laws extremely difficult.
In 2015, when the government of former president Juan Manuel Santos sought to legalize medical marijuana, it had to resort to a decree (2467) that expanded on Law 30 of 1986. The decree regulated cannabis production for "strictly medical or scientific purposes." While legalizing the medical use of marijuana was a step in the right direction, the local industry has been saddled by red tape.
For instance, physicians still are allowed to prescribe only manufactured cannabis‐​based products, not dry cannabis flower. Also, the use of CBD—a multibillion‐​dollar industry in the U.S.—is not allowed in Colombian food, beverages, supplements, or veterinary products. Since the local market has not been allowed to develop, local cannabis firms—including a few that raised funds in the U.S. and are even listed on the Nasdaq—are on the verge of bankruptcy. Potential investors, meanwhile, are eyeing other markets, and rightly so.
The black market, however, has thrived, not least because the 2015 decree allowed the "self‐​cultivation" of up to 20 cannabis plants for personal use without a license from the Health Ministry. Since each plant can produce around a kilo of marijuana, massive amounts of pot are grown legally, only to be transported and sold illegally. Which is to say, Colombian lawmakers have created the worst of all worlds for consumers and legal producers alike, this in spite of the industry's immense potential to generate profits, jobs, and tax revenues.
But Colombia's Congress now has a chance to unravel the marijuana muddle. A new Legislative Act, introduced by Representative Juan Carlos Losada, a member of the Liberal Party, seeks to insert an exception for adult, recreational cannabis consumption into Article 49 of the constitution. This would create a legal market to buy, sell, and distribute marijuana in Colombia. After being approved in seven debates in Congress, Losada's project faces one final hurdle in the Senate on Thursday, June 15.
Legislators should approve the measure. Colombian conservatives should keep in mind that extreme leftist Gustavo Petro, the current president, did not bring forth the initiative (despite his supposedly revolutionary stance against the drug war). Hence, supporting marijuana legalization does not involve supporting the government. Center‐​right politicians also should remember the words of the great Alvaro Gómez, the conservative leader who warned as early as 1976 that the war on drugs was doomed to failure.
Regulating marijuana use for adults, on the other hand, implies seizing the local market from violent, criminal gangs and leaving it in the hands of the legal, regulated businesses that can assure quality, safety, and transparency. Eventually, when the United States and other countries open their markets to cannabis products from other latitudes, Colombia can regain its standing as a global exporting powerhouse. Far more than foreign aid handouts, the country could use a legal marijuana bonanza.

Daniel Raisbeck


Less than a year ago, I wrote of the almost certain regret that awaited the prosperous, urban, multiple‐​degree‐​holding types who voted for Gustavo Petro, Colombia's Chavista president. They thought they had supported a Nordic‐​style social democrat—failing to notice that they had helped to elect a tropical socialist who, given his past as a guerrilla group member and Hugo Chávez supporter, was also a potential autocrat. Caveat emptor (or rather suffragator) indeed. But I never thought that voter's remorse would set in so quickly. Or so extremely.
According to poll data from June 1, 2023, only 26 percent of Colombian citizens approved of Petro's performance as president. And this was before the scandal that shook the country's political scene last Sunday evening, when Semana magazine released a series of WhatsApp audio files sent by Armando Benedetti, Petro's former ambassador in Caracas, to Laura Sarabia, the president's former chief of staff.
Among the least bombastic revelations is Benedetti's claim that Alfonso Prada, Petro's former interior minister, "stole the whole ministry with his wife." This implies massive levels of corruption around Petro, who came to power with an anti‐​corruption agenda (quite cynically given his disreputable political alliances). Prada proceeded to sue Benedetti for libel.
Petro's dwindling number of supporters may dismiss this as a politician's petty slander against a rival in the cabinet. Far more concerning for them—and for Petro—is Benedetti's matter‐​of‐​fact assertion to Sarabia that he himself obtained COP $15 billion (around USD $3.58 million at today's exchange rate) for Petro's 2022 presidential campaign, during which he served as the former candidate's right‐​hand‐​man and main political handler. Petro's campaign did not officially report any donation nearly as large. Its declared funds consisted mostly a series of bank loans, which were meant to be paid with the "reimbursement" sum that the Colombian state guarantees to candidates for each vote received in an election.
In many countries, an insider's admission of how millions of undeclared dollars flowed into the president's campaign coffers would bring down the government. Alas, Colombia is not one of them. This is not due to a lack of unashamedly corrupt presidents; as I wrote recently in The Wall Street Journal, the opposite has been the case. Rather, since the 1950's, the Colombian elite's idiosyncratic approach to presidential corruption has followed the maxim, attributed to journalist Hernando Santos (1922–1999), that the trouble with overthrowing a president is that he may fall upon those doing the toppling.
Already in Petro's case, the three‐​member House of Representatives commission created to investigate Benedetti's statements includes two members of the president's own party. The enquiry will be a charade, which is a pity since the source of the undeclared campaign money is as important as the sum itself. In an interview, Benedetti told Semana that the money "did not come from entrepreneurs," meaning the legal business community. Suspicion has fallen on the Marxist guerrilla groups and other drug trafficking organizations, but also on the Venezuelan regime of Nicolás Maduro. Anonymous, the hacker group, claims that Maduro financed "part of the campaign of the current president of Colombia," but has not published evidence hitherto.
What is certain is that, in regional terms, the Maduro regime has been the principal beneficiary of Petro's election. To begin with, Colombia recognized Maduro's presidency after a three‐​and‐​a‐​half‐​year hiatus, and Petro himself has met Maduro four times since his inauguration. His government, which opposes any future hydrocarbon exploration in Colombia despite dwindling reserves, has promoted the idea of importing Venezuelan natural gas.
While Petro wages a political war against Colombia's key petroleum industry—crude oil has been the country's main legal export for decades—he lobbied President Joe Biden to end American sanctions against the Maduro regime. This would imply renewed Venezuelan oil exports to the U.S. market (even if socialism devastated Venezuela's oil industry well beyond immediate or even medium term repair). Petro's "shoot yourself in the foot / prosper‐​thy‐​neighbor" policy is devoid of any rationality. Unless, of course, Colombia's increasingly authoritarian president is somehow subject to the Venezuelan tyrant.
Petro's eco‐​fanatical crusade against the hydrocarbon industry is but one example of how his government is bent on destroying the few areas of the Colombian economy that are functional. Other examples include his plans to put the state in charge of centralized funding for the healthcare and pension systems, both of which are efficient—although certainly not perfect—thanks to private sector involvement and some degree of consumer choice. Where things are already problematic, Petro's policies would make them worse. For instance, he wants to make a rigid, overregulated labor market even less flexible and more hostile to businesses.
Then there is the matter of rising insecurity, an old problem that, until recently, appeared mostly solved, only to resurface dangerously in the last year. Under Petro, illegal armed groups have expanded their power as they launch constant, deadly attacks against the armed forces and police. It all brings to mind the dark era of the late 1990's, when Colombia was on the verge of becoming a failed state as it came under siege from the FARC guerrillas, which are still up in arms despite the much‐​touted "peace" agreement of 2016.
Usually, a crisis in government breeds economic instability. Under Colombia's current government, however, the opposite has been the case. Since the Benedetti scandal broke, the peso rallied to reach its highest value against the dollar since mid‐​2022, when Petro was about to win the presidential election. In October, two months after he took office, the peso reached an all‐​time low against the dollar. Amid the current political turmoil, forward‐​looking markets are anticipating the failure of Petro's legislative initiatives in health care, pensions, and labor law. Which is to say, there is speculation that Colombia's institutional framework has already survived Petro's statist onslaught. The weaker his position, the thinking goes, the less likely it is that non‐​leftist parties will lend him their support, which he needs to obtain congressional majorities.
I fear, however, that markets may be getting ahead of themselves. The Colombian congress is minimally ideological and highly transactional. There is still a good chance that, issue by issue, Petro's government can negotiate just enough votes to have his "reforms" approved, in which case only the courts will stand in the way of his agenda.
Not that Petro is respectful of any check or balance. This week, he propounded the theory that, since he was elected, his government represents "the will of the people," meaning that any opposition to his political project—including from the news media—is part of an illegitimate, "soft coup." The onslaught, in other words, is far from over.
In my view, the worst part about Petro's election victory is that, at this time last year, Colombia was in need of radical reforms. Above all, a chronically sluggish economy required budget discipline, public spending cuts, drastic debt reduction, a strong currency (ideally through dollarization), far lower taxes, labor market deregulation, subsoil privatization, school choice, and an end to non‐​tariff barriers. By electing Petro, however, voters decided to do precisely the opposite on all fronts. As warned, most already regret it.

In 2022, a small majority of Colombian voters acted against their better judgment and allowed Petro to hold power. A large majority is now firmly opposed to his government. The question is whether the republic itself will withstand Petro's imminent constitutional onslaught.

Refugees and migrants are heading in multiple directions and criss-crossing South America. More and more Ecuadorians are fleeing their country, with many crossing the Darien Gap, which poses extreme risks. As the flows increase, so does the need for more coordinated actions to respond to refugees’ and migrants’ needs during their journey, Cristina Escobar (LSE) … Continued

Kamëntšá musicians Natalia Jacanamijoy and Angela Jhoana Jacanamejoy share the history and cultural significance of their music in the context of Kamëntšá cultural survival and the revaluation of ancestral wisdom.

The decriminalization of abortion alone does not automatically guarantee access for all women to this service in Colombia, specifically those on the margins — impoverished, Black Afro-descendant, and Indigenous women.

"Today, more and more trans women are finishing their studies and becoming professionals," explains activist Lorena Duarte.

On Friday, Sept. 8, Daniel Raisbeck and I published a longish article in Foreign Policy magazine throwing cold water on the idea of using the U.S. military to counter fentanyl.

Three government projects from Costa Rica, Colombia and Bolivia that have helped thousands of young people to finance and acquire their own home.

Christmas food traditions from Venezuela, El Salvador, Colombia, Chile, Argentina, Ecuador is diverse and complex. This is how the tables in the region look like during Deecember.

Daniel Bonilla Maldonado (Universidad de los Andes, Colombia) has posted Global Legal Pluralism and the Rights of Nature (The Rights of Nature and Global Legal Pluralism, Daniel Bonilla Maldonado, Ralf Michaels, eds., Forthcoming) on SSRN. Here is the abstract: This...

This week in Australian foreign affairs: diplomatic appointments announced to lead Australia's posts in Bali, China, Colombia, Estonia, Hong Kong, Marshall Islands, Papua New Guinea, Russia and Sweden; Australia-PNG Defence Ministers' Meeting; and handover ceremony of the fourth Guardian-class Patrol Boat to Papua New Guinea.