The tragedy unfolded on December 3, 2023. Phanor Guazaquillo was leaving a cemetery in the remote town of Puerto Asis, southeast of Colombia, when a man got off a motorcycle, opened fire, killing him in front of his wife and sped off. “Everyone knew he was threatened,” says his son Breiner, 27, with a chill in his voice.
For months, Phanor has fought land seizures by the Comandos de la Frontera, a dissident faction of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) that controls cocaine trade near the Ecuadorian border. As a widely respected Nasa Indigenous leader in Putumayo, Phanor also opposed oil extraction projects that poisoned this remote area neglected by the central government.
Now a community leader in Putumayo, Breiner shares the threats his family faced after his father’s death: “For four months we received threats to stop us from continuing his fight.” Today, a state-supplied armed guard accompanies the 27-year-old in all his movements.
Colombia: The deadliest country for activists
Phanor Guazaquillo’s death tragically highlights the danger facing Colombia’s environmental defenders. Last year, 79 were killed, accounting for 40% of all environmental leaders killed worldwide, according to the NGO Global Witness, making Colombia the deadliest place for these activists.
Signs of improvement are slowly emerging. Between January and August this year, 20 environmental defenders were killed in Colombia, 34 fewer than last year over the same period. Could this be an effect of President Petro’s “Total Peace” policy? “The tension has eased since the armed group started negotiating with the government,” notes Breiner.
Yet these grim statistics cast a shadow over COP16 in Cali, which is just a few hours from Cauca – a region plagued by conflicts between FARC dissidents, Clan del Golfo paramilitaries and military forces. Since 2018, 114 environmental leaders have been killed in Cauca alone, according to the Foundation for Peace and Reconciliation report presented on October 23. Tensions even rose a week before the conference when the Central General Staff (EMC), the most powerful dissident faction of the FARC, urged delegations “not to attend the event.”
Despite these veiled threats, environmental defenders remain determined to make their voices heard. In the shaded paths of the “Green Zone”, a specially designated area at the heart of the conference, the Nasa Indigenous Guard, with their traditional chontas – sticks decorated with red and green banners representing peaceful territorial defense – walked through and curious onlookers involved in their conflicts with armed groups and multinational mining and forestry companies.
A long-delayed protection treaty
Local advocates at COP16 are hopeful that the conference will push for the implementation of the Escazu Agreement. This regional treaty, signed in Costa Rica in February 2018, commits its 24 signatories to adopt national measures to protect environmental activists. Yet only 14 of these 24 countries have ratified it, leaving a gap in meaningful action.
In Colombiaonly two months ago did the Constitutional Court approve the law enshrining Escazu in national law. “Escazu provides a good framework, but it is far too early to assess its impact,” says Francisco Daza of the Foundation for Peace and Reconciliation. He hopes the COP will emphasize monitoring its implementation and putting pressure on regional governments.
Impunity and mistrust in the community
While COP16 serves as an important platform, it struggles to take concrete measures to protect environmental defenders. In Colombia, a weak legal system undermines promises of protection for activists.
“The justice system lacks resources, staff and expertise to investigate when a leader is threatened or killed,” laments Vanessa Vasco of the Corporation for Justice and Freedom, which provides legal assistance to environmental leaders and their communities, particularly in Antioquia. a region riddled with paramilitary influence and extractivist projects. Since 2018, only two cases involving the assassination of environmental defenders have resulted in convictions.
“This impunity fuels community distrust, and sometimes they won’t even file complaints,” adds Francisco Daza. In Cali’s Green Zone, activists are disturbed by the presence of mining companies such as the Canadian Libero Copper, which in their eyes undermines the event’s credibility.
Sirley Duarte, an environmental leader from Putumayo, expresses her indignation: “How can I feel safe when the same companies that are poisoning our lands have a stand here?”