Colombia’s ELN and FARC: Long War Begins

Episode Narrative

Colombia’s tumultuous journey through the mid-twentieth century would forever shape the course of its history. A dark and violent chapter began with the period known as La Violencia, spanning from 1948 to 1958. This brutal civil conflict erupted primarily between the Liberal and Conservative parties, resulting in approximately 200,000 deaths, a harrowing statistic that underscores the depth of the nation’s divisions. The pain and suffering inflicted upon the Colombian populace during these years set the stage for further unrest, planting the seeds of what would become the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, or FARC, along with the National Liberation Army, commonly known as the ELN.

In 1964, amidst the ashes of La Violencia, FARC emerged, founded by Manuel Marulanda Vélez and others. This group did not spring from thin air but grew organically from peasant self-defense initiatives reacting against state violence and systemic exclusion. These were individuals who yearned for justice, who, in the face of overwhelming oppression, sought to carve out a space for themselves in the barren landscape of Colombian politics. They aimed to champion the rights of the rural poor against a government that often turned a blind eye to their needs.

Around the same time, the ELN was established, characterized by its unique ideological foundation rooted in liberation theology and Marxist principles. It was a group that intertwined faith with the revolutionary spirit, with Catholic priests among its founders pledging allegiance to Che Guevara's revolutionary model. These priests invoked their spiritual beliefs while advocating for social upheaval, creating a compelling narrative that drew many to its cause, transcending the traditional boundaries between faith and revolutionary zeal.

As the 1960s unfolded, both FARC and the ELN honed their focus on rural insurgency, embedding themselves deeply within Colombia's mountainous terrain and countryside. Here, in regions characterized by a weak state presence, they found fertile ground among significant peasant populations whose voices had long been drowned out by political elites. The insurgents utilized the natural landscape as a means of concealment and rapid movement, turning the rugged terrain into their ally.

By the late 1960s, the tactics of these guerrilla groups became increasingly severe. Kidnapping evolved from sporadic incidents to a key strategy for financing their operations. It marked a stark transition toward organized and sustained guerrilla warfare, an endeavor that would soon spiral beyond the control of anyone, not least the Colombian government. These acts not only filled their coffers but also legitimized their struggle in the eyes of many who had been wronged by the existing order.

In response to this budding insurgency, the United States initiated Plan Lazo from the early 1960s into the 1970s. This counterinsurgency program sought to eradicate guerrilla groups through military training and support, reflecting broader Cold War anti-communist priorities. It combined military operations with civic action, attempting to undercut the guerrillas' popularity among rural populations. Yet, in its execution, Plan Lazo often alienated these communities, causing the very discontent it aimed to quell. The irony was palpable: such counterinsurgency efforts inadvertently strengthened the recruitment potential for groups like FARC and ELN.

The 1970s brought additional complexities. The Cuban Revolution of 1959 loomed large over Latin America, inspiring wave after wave of revolutionary fervor. Cuba sought to export this revolutionary spirit throughout the continent, providing ideological inspiration and logistical support for movements like FARC and ELN. The Cuban government extended asylum and training to many activists, creating networks that would intertwine with Colombia’s indigenous struggles. In such a climate, the motivation for armed struggle against existing systems was not merely an abstract concept but a tangible, lived reality for many.

During the same decade, the Colombian government intensified its counterinsurgency efforts. Tactics became increasingly violent and militarized, supported by U.S. military aid. Intelligence sharing and training underscored the commitment to overcoming the insurgents, yet the brutality and fear that spread through the countryside only served to entrench the positions of the guerrillas. Rural populations, disillusioned by government neglect and violence, rallied around the banners of organizations that promised change, social justice, and hope in place of despair.

Amidst this backdrop, the ideological framework of the ELN blended not only Marxism but also liberation theology, emphasizing social justice and the rights of peasants. This fusion resonated deeply with rural communities experiencing profound inequality and systemic neglect. The guerrilla movements, therefore, drew upon the mythos of the Cuban Revolution and the charisma of Che Guevara, aligning their narratives with a broader struggle against imperialism and social injustice.

As the 1980s began, the emergence of the M-19 guerrilla group introduced another layer to Colombia’s conflict. This urban guerrilla movement gained notoriety for its audacious operations, including the 1980 siege of the Dominican Republic embassy in Bogotá. M-19's distinct approach contrasted sharply with the ongoing rural insurgency led by FARC and ELN. While M-19 explored urban warfare tactics and increased its visibility, FARC and ELN continued to solidify their rural strongholds, undeterred by the shifting landscape of conflict.

Despite various attempts to mediate peace, including peace talks in the late 1980s, many of the armed groups remained resolutely active. By 1990 and 1991, while M-19 began the process of demobilization and reintegration into society, FARC and ELN maintained significant control over large swathes of rural territory. The deeply rooted nature of Colombia’s insurgency became increasingly evident. It was no longer just a struggle for power but a conflict deeply entwined with the social and economic fabric of the nation.

Throughout this protracted ordeal, Cuba’s role could not be understated. Its government emerged as a symbol and supporter for various Latin American guerrilla movements, including Colombia’s. Revolutions inspired by Cuban ideals became benchmarks for many guerrillas who sought not only to fight for their immediate goals but also to join a global movement that challenged imperialism and championed the downtrodden.

The threads of social discontent, land inequality, and external intervention entwined like the roots of an ancient tree, feeding the conflict and allowing it to endure. As guerrilla leaders learned to adapt, employing rudimentary technologies and local knowledge to navigate the complex landscape, their operational strategies evolved in tandem with the growing complexities of their war.

As we reflect upon this tapestry of violence and struggle, it becomes clear that Colombia’s long war was not an isolated incident. Rather, it resonated with the wider battles taking place across Latin America during the Cold War. It was part of a broader pattern, a reflection of regional discontent catalyzed by political ideologies and external influences, shaping a legacy that continues to echo through Colombia into the twenty-first century.

The landscape of Colombia remains scarred by conflicts that have roots deep in social injustice and Cold War geopolitics. As we look to the future, one must ponder the enduring question: How can a nation reconstruct itself from the ashes of war, heal the wounds of division, and ensure that the cries for justice are neither forgotten nor silenced? The story of Colombia’s ELN and FARC is but a chapter in a much larger narrative — one that challenges us to confront not only the ghosts of the past but also the possibilities of a more equitable tomorrow.