A potential for collapse

it is only a matter of time until the insurgency achieves its objective of state power (see Coghlan, 2004: 68). Demoralized, growing numbers of infantry are suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (see Engqvist, 2005; Coghlan, 2004: 105). Many cases exist of troops suffering emotional problems, bouts of insanity, and delusion. In 2005, it was said that “the fighting spirit and morale of Bogotá’s soldiers seem at an all-time low after a series of defeats against the guerrillas” (Engqvist, 2005). Lacking the facilities to respond to rising rates of psychological fatigue, some troops and commanding officers have lashed out: throwing acid in the faces of battalion members while asleep; gunning down groups of fellow soldiers during patrols; multiple attempts of suicide or homicide, and so on. The murder of civilians has also gravely affected soldiers psychologically. “I can’t sleep. I’m awake all night, tossing and turning in bed .… I have this psychosis that at any moment someone could come, something could happen to me, that they are going to kill me” (Bajak, 2008c). From this scenario we can recognize that the military, while considerably larger, are no more emotionally advanced, efficient, or prepared to handle counterinsurgency warfare than they were in 1997. Katharina Röhl (2004: 2) suggested that “there is no sign of the FARC losing its momentum. On the contrary, despite extensive counterinsurgency, persisting paramilitary presence, and massive US military and financial aid all contributing to stop and destroy it,” the guerrillas have established dual power in many locales. Over time the guerrillas have advanced their tactical competence over domestic and imperial counter-insurgent forces. Not only is the FARC-EP triumphant in that they are structurally able to withstand tremendous military aggression, its capacity to respond to the same reactionary forces time and time again demonstrates its fortitude.5 Goff commented, “I have been questioned as to whether I really believe the FARC is winning, I do .… They have survived and counterattacked one of the most well-financed military offensives in this hemisphere” (2004: 44; see also 47). Apart from sustaining its movement, the FARC-EP has arguably contained the expansion of US imperialism in Colombia, blocking the spread of foreign multinationals, and exposing “the vulnerability of imperialism” (Petras et al, 2005: 126; see also 94, 102).6 As a result of the FARC-EP’s aptitude as a revolutionary force, additional factors have arisen leading to a potential collapse of conventional power. If such conditions prevail, a significant threat to the interests of the dominant class, within and outside the Andean country, is sure to be realized – centralizing power in favor of the FARC-EP.

A POTENTIAL FOR COLLAPSE

Prior to his first presidential term, Álvaro Uribe Vélez promised he would defeat the FARC-EP during his political tenure. Such pronouncements were disproved as 2002 through 2006 saw the most sustained and powerful escalation of FARC-EP aggression toward state and paramilitary forces in years

(Fundación Seguridad & Democracia, 2006; 2004; Brittain, 2005e).7 As some successes were, however, realized during his second term (2006– ), the fact remains that very little scholarship has been devoted to Uribe’s militaristic inability to eliminate the FARC-EP or Colombia’s ongoing political-economic restructuring under his administration. Here we shed some light on these issues, and consider potential challenges facing the state as a consequence of the revolution from below (see González, Bolivar and Vázquez, 2002).

Contextualizing Uribe’s failure to respond militarily to the FARC-EP Prior to his coming to power in 1998, former president Andrés Pastrana, while not fully supportive of the idea, based much of his electoral campaign on negotiating a peace with the guerrillas (O’Shaughnessy and Branford, 2005: 43; Ramírez, Stanton and Walsh, 2005: 106; Leech, 2002a: 4). While many saw this strategy as problematic, as the state spoke of peace while it prepared for war (see Richani, 2005b: 95; CISLAC, 2001), it was based on this program that Pastrana found a home in the Casa de Nariño. On the heels of Pastrana’s failed attempt to find a resolution to the war, Uribe started his run for the presidency from a completely different perspective (see Santiso, 2006: 216). He too promoted peace, but not through negotiation; rather, he called for the violent annihilation of the FARC-EP (O’Shaughnessy and Branford, 2005: 54; Ramírez et al, 2005: 111; Leech, 2002a: 74; Randall, 2002). If elected, Uribe declared he would rid the nation of the guerrillas in four years, a promise which gave him resounding support from the dominant urban class and elites throughout the periphery (Avilés, 2006: 123; Richani, 2005b: 93). Within days of coming to office, Uribe augmented the counter-insurgency directives of Plan Colombia adopted under Pastrana by introducing draconian rule in areas thought to support the FARC-EP. Policies implemented saw massive numbers of peasants become rural soldiers for the state, the creation of a clandestine civilian information network, and the placement of entire regions of the country under military control via controversial zones of “rehabilitation and consolidation” (Crandall, 2005b: 177; Ramírez et al, 2005: 111–12; Sweig and McCarthy, 2005: 23–4; Bland, 2004: 5–6; Helweg-Larson, 2003; Leech, 2002c; 2002e). These methods were familiar to Uribe, as similar measures had been applied on a regional scale when he governed Antioquia. As noted in Chapter 6, Uribe promoted the legal creation of the CONVIVIR to combat the guerrillas. Before it became illegal many suggested the CONVIVIR model worked well at decreasing the FARC-EP’s power in sectors of the northeast (Sweig and McCarthy, 2005: 19; Livingstone, 2003: 26; Scott, 2003: 71-72; Leech, 2002a: 88; Richani, 2002a: 52, 144). The reasoning was that if reactionary approaches proved effective regionally, similar successes could be achieved nationally. The FARC-EP, however, proved to be far more powerful than previously anticipated. Near the middle of Plan Colombia it had become clear the mission was not working. In response, a more emphatic military campaign was devised to deal with the insurgency (Mondragón, 2007). Officially beginning in 2003, a new

subcategorical counter-insurgency strategy was implemented concentrating on the Putumayo, Caquetá, Meta, and Nariño, and entitled Plan Patriota.8 There was unprecedented growth in state aggression toward the FARC-EP, as military-initiated attacks against the guerrillas increased by 73 percent (Richani, 2005b: 89, 95). Immediately, reports surfaced claiming Plan Patriota had started to “wear down” the guerrillas (Acosta, 2004). There were assertions that Colombian and US forces were winning in their offensive against the FARC-EP alongside decline in support, a lowering of recruitment numbers, and a significant withdrawal from one-time socio-geographical strongholds (Crawley, 2005; Garamore, 2005; Pablo Toro, 2004). US officials announced that the FARC-EP had “been significantly degraded,” and now “there is no portion of the country where Colombian forces cannot go” (as quoted in Garamore, 2005). By 2005, Uribe looked as though he would not go back on his electoral promise, especially when US Air Force General Richard B. Myers praised Plan Patriota for unequivocally defeating the FARC-EP (see Garamore, 2005). As state reports affirmed the effectiveness of Plan Patriota and Uribe guaranteed the defeat of the FARC-EP, numbers on the ground proved quite different. In fact during Uribe’s first two years as president the FARC-EP had conducted the same number of attacks against state forces as it had during the entire fouryear term of Andrés Pastrana (Fundación Seguridad & Democracia, 2004). Russell Crandall (2005b: 177) noted that 2003 saw FARC-EP attacks increase by a remarkable 23 percent. The next year proved even worse for the state, as assaults on state infrastructure increased by 100 percent and oil pipeline attacks grew by 21 percent, especially in the south (Brittain and Sacouman, 2006a; Fundación Seguridad y Democracia, 2006; Vieira, 2006a). Throughout Uribe’s first term FARC-EP-initiated campaigns swelled, “from 227 percent between 1998 and 2002 to 450 percent per year in the 2002–04 period,” while state-initiated attacks decreased 22 percent between 2003 and 2004 (Richani, 2005b: 95). Contrary to state and media accounts, the FARC-EP had put the state on the defensive, especially in the areas where Plan Patriota was deployed (see Chernick, 2007; Brittain, 2005e; Restrepo and Spagat, 2004). During an interview with a member of the Secretariat I was told, “Look around, here we are. Do you see any troops? Plan Patriota has not destroyed the FARC-EP. We move freely throughout the region as we have for the past several years.” The fact remains that apart from the verbal rhetoric of the state and corporate media, the Uribe administration has failed to establish legitimate authority across vast areas of the country (see Williams, 2005: 160–1).

The blowback of neoliberal economic policy Issues quite apart from the state’s militaristic inability might have contributed to the weakness of the government. One such problem has been a lack of capital to combat the FARC-EP. Attempts have been made to try and rectify this problem, yet within the context of neoliberal economics the spending has proven unsustainable and could, in fact, increase instability. Traced back to the Betancur administration (1982–86), neoliberalism has become entrenched

policy (Avilés, 2006). Deregulation and the privatization of domestic resources, especially energy-based primary industries, has significantly limited the availability of accessible state revenue, and this in turn has affected funding for the war (Leech, 2005a; Richani, 2005a: 115; 2005b: 89–90, 101n.69). One example of this was the once-lucrative “war tax” implemented to assist the state in its fight against the guerrillas.

Established on February 11, 1991, Decree 416 empowered the state to apply a “war tax” on “oil, gas, coal and nickel exports and on international telephone calls,” and a 5 percent tax on those who earned more than 1 million pesos annually (Avilés, 2006: 157n.15). The most important aspect of the levy was its attachment to the natural resource industry, specifically oil. It was designed to enhance the state’s capacity to confront the growing power of the FARC-EP, as the state acquired US$1–1.50 from every barrel of oil sold (Renner, 2002: 38). However, in 2001 several energy-based MNCs voiced their opposition to the tax, arguing it was a deterrent to trade, investment, and profit maximization (Richani, 2005a: 116). Ironically, as a direct result of increased neoliberal economic policy, and an internal decrease of state controls over multinational activity, the “war tax” on oil was removed (Richani, 2005a: 128; se also Leech 2006d: 147–51; 2005a). With the threat of the FARC-EP not subsiding, the state had to find other sources of revenue to sustain military operations. One option chosen by the Uribe administration was to increase reliance on the Colombian elite through taxation. During Uribe’s first year in office, a 20 percent hike in income taxes was applied (Muse, 2004: 22–3).9 This was followed by an additional one-time 1.2 percent excise on liquid assets (Daily Journal, 2006b). At the time, these measures were supported under the belief that financially backing increased militarization would keep the guerrillas out of the country’s cities.10 However, when the pressure from below did not subside, elite-based tax structures continued. In 2006, an additional proposal was implemented for another “onetime” elite-based tax to expand military spending (Reuters, 2006a). This tax reform sought to increase the military’s coffers by $1.2 billion through imposing a tax structure which placed a low percentage levy on financial holdings in excess of US$1 million (People’s Daily, 2006a). Some have suggested that these taxes upset the dominant class and their support for Uribe (Bronstein, 2006b; Stratfor, 2006; Sweig and McCarthy, 2005: 26). However, it should be borne in mind that any increased taxation directly applied to the wealthy will be indirectly transferred onto the backs of the urban and rural working class (Leech, 2006a; Martínez, 2006; LACYORK, 2003). Emphasizing elite-based taxation fails to address the fundamental question why a small minority pays such a disproportionate percentage of the overall tax bill. There are several reasons why the majority do not pay a formal income tax. One is that Colombia has one of the most inequitable income distributions in Latin America (Holmes, 2003: 87–8; Green, 2003: 157; Röhl, 2004: 6n.29). As the majority of the population live in poverty, legitimate sustainable employment – the basis from which income tax is realized – is far from attainable.11

Beyond woeful overall employment levels, rural land has also remained centralized in the hands of a limited few. These conditions, in the context of a national economy in decline (see DANE, 2008), prevent the majority from becoming constructive contributors to the domestic economy via a consistent taxable income.12 Dismissing such realities the Uribe administration nevertheless expanded an existing national value-added tax (VAT) system in 2007, which disproportionately affected those with low incomes (see Lines, 2008: 57).13 Economic development analysts and foreign financial advisors applauded such changes under the belief that “if more Colombians start paying taxes, they will be able to lower overall tax rates, which would have a positive impact on the overall competitiveness of the economy” (Bronstein, 2006a). The VAT expansion included a 1.6 percent tax on private cleaning and security services, a 10 percent levy on basic food supplies, a 16 percent excise tax on a vast array of consumer products, and finally a 23–35 percent tariff on items such as vehicles and boats. With increasing rates of both urban and rural poverty, the VAT expansion fiscally devastated the vast majority of the population, and badly affected small domestic-based business and agricultural producers (Bernardi, Fumagalli and Fumagalli, 2007; Bronstein, 2006b). In short, the VAT put minimal strain on the elite yet placed a heavy burden on the underemployed or unemployed. In fact, after passing the VAT expansion, the Uribe administration reduced formal income tax levels for the dominant class (see Bronstein, 2006a). In many ways VAT and the overall neoliberal approach broadened the state’s fiscal dilemma. Not only have domestic industries experienced a reduction of capital, as people in the middle and lower-income brackets have reduced their spending as a result of the increased taxation, continued tariff reductions have decreased the returns from foreign direct investment.14 Such activities affect all Colombians, as existing or potential domestic entrepreneurs, industry, and regional business groups are marginalized while largely foreign investors are supported. In contrast to numerous Latin American countries that are “moving away from neoliberalism by reclaiming sovereign control over their economies and natural resources,” the Colombian president “has once again made evident his commitment to serving the interests of global capital at the expense of the welfare of Colombia’s poor majority” (Leech, 2006a). Ricardo Duran, chief analyst with the Bogotá-based brokerage firm Corredores Asociados, added that the real goal of such policies is to benefit not those in Colombia but a minority beyond its border (see Muse, 2004).

“Free trade”: assisting the revolt from below There have been objections throughout Colombia to the continued promotion and adoption of free-trade agreements (FTA):

Colombia’s 28,000 rice growers – as well as corn, cereal and poultry farmers – say the trade pact threatens to put them out of business for good. That’s

because, like farmers everywhere, many struggle to eke out an existence while their U.S. counterparts receive generous government subsidies. To lessen the impact, trade barriers for sensitive agricultural goods will be removed gradually over a period of 12–19 years. Nevertheless, in the first year Colombians must import a 87,000-ton quota of U.S. white rice – representing nearly 6 percent of Colombia’s annual production – and the quota increases by 4.5 percent every year thereafter. In the short term, a feared flood of cheap imports could depress the price Colombian farmers get for their rice by as much as 30 percent, says Rafael Hernandez, general manager of Fedearroz, the country’s rice growers association. But a bigger concern is what happens if farmers, unable to compete, turn to illegal crops like coca or poppy, the base ingredient of heroin. Especially in the central, rice-growing province of Meta, where coca and rice grow almost side by side, “if the government doesn’t help farmers, the drug traffickers will,” said Hernandez. (Goodman, 2006a)

Those in the countryside have long complained how bilateral trade agreements between minority world countries and Colombia marginalize small and medium-sized producers that harvest traditional crops for local consumption.15 However, in April 2006, Hernando José Gómez, Colombia’s chief FTA negotiator, guaranteed that in the event of poor returns the state would assist those most affected with fiscal security measures and/or programs (Goodman, 2006a). President Uribe then promised “lower prices for foodstuffs, machinery that increases crop yields as well as the opportunity to export high-margin crops like mangos and other exotic fruits” (Goodman, 2006a). There was also a commitment that $220 million would be provided to local producers through subsidized loans to offset any FTA-related strains or losses.16 In mid-2006, however, Bogotá (and Washington) shifted to a policy that would only escalate anti-systemic sentiment throughout rural regions and guarantee the continuity of coca cultivation. Soon after the state’s “commitment” to the rural producers was announced, it was leaked that the Uribe administration had quietly cut the proposed monetary support by 41 percent, and suggested it might be reduced further (Prensa Latina, 2006a).17 Furthermore, on the heels of a US Embassy warning that the FARC-EP had the capacity to carry out assaults on Bogotá,18 the US Agency for International Development (USAID) decided to cut its largest mission in the Western hemisphere and suspend all economic aid to the south of the country – the region most socioeconomically dependent on the coca industry (Reuters, 2006b; O’Shaughnessy and Branford, 2005: 32).19 USAID indirectly stated that the political-military power of the FARC-EP had far exceeded the acceptable limits for the agency to work effectively. Another way of looking at this scenario is that USAID has failed to offer any lasting alternative development programs (Goodman, 2006b; Gibbs and Leech, 2005).20 Hence, after roughly $8 billion in funding, the deployment of 20,000 US-trained forces, and immense weapons supplies, Washington and Bogotá have once again proven to be unable to assist those most exploited or debilitate the insurgency.