v. Spanish:
1. To defend, to protect, to free.
2. To maintain, preserve, sustain something against the opinion of others.
* A portrait of human rights defenders under threat for their work in Colombia.
DEFENDER is a personal effort to visualize the work of human rights defenders in Colombia who are being threatened and killed for their work. In 2016, known as "the year of peace," when the government and the FARC guerrillas signed a peace agreement ending 52 years of war, there were 78 murders documented of human rights defenders who carry out their work legally and legitimately: indigenous leaders, environmental activists, LGBTQ leaders and lawyers. By the end of 2017, there were 105 defenders killed according to a United Nations report. The rate continues at one assassination every four days.
It is paradoxical that while Colombia advances in the implementation of the Peace Agreement these aggressions continue, generating a climate of anxiety and mistrust about the possibilities of building a stable peace where conflicts are resolved by democratic means. Threats and murders are committed over territorial control, access to resources like petroleum and gold mining, investigations into war crimes like forced disappearances among others. The violence is attributed to murky neo-paramilitary groups like the so called “Aguilas Negras”, or assassins working with organized crime, but many defenders suspect security agents working for private industries, or the state security forces themselves. This is the other side of Colombia’s peace process.
Some threatened defenders have a security scheme provided by the state, but often times the security provided is not enough, and impunity is rampant. Increased visibility of their work and national attention in many cases serves as a form of protection to these leaders. My project was born out of a collaboration with CAJAR, a collective of Colombian human rights lawyers who represent defenders across the country. I am currently continuing to document defenders and the issues they stand for in other regions of Colombia.
The following series of images depict three human rights defenders in various departments of Colombia and the people and communities they work to defend.
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Sandra Perez, 34, of Unuma, Meta, of the Sikuani indigenous nation worries about her younger brother who has been vocal against the oil company Ecopetrol and its contamination of the land. Due to so much violence against social leaders in the region, she fears for his life. Rubiales, Puerto Gaitan, Meta, Colombia. April 9, 2017
A lone, black bird flies over the plains. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 8, 2017
Landscape of plains and hills around the community of Rubiales, Meta where oil has been extracted for more than 25 years, first by Canadian company Pacific Rubiales, and now by Ecopetrol. According to local leaders and environmentalists, rivers and land has been polluted and it’s caused earthquakes affecting local infrastructure. April 10, 2017. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia
Héctor Sánchez environmental and community defender steps into his vehicle, a bullet proof SUV driven by his body guard, protection measures provided by the Colombian state due to the threats against his life. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 8, 2017
Members of the Sikuani community enter a meeting between Ecopetrol and the community in the village of Rubiales, Meta. The oil company wants to double the amount of water used in its oil extraction that is returned to the rivers from 300,000 barrels a day to 700,000 barrels a day. During the meeting Ecopetrol explained to the community that it the practice is safe. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 8, 2017
A community member of Rubiales, Meta speaks in front of the oil company Ecopetrol during a community meeting offering his testimony of contamination wrought by oil exploration. Ecopetrol called the meeting as it aims to expand its dumping of water used in oil extraction into the rivers from 300,000 liters to 600,000 liters of water a day. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 8, 2017
Members of the local government and the National Association Environmental Licenses listen to arguments between Ecopetrol oil company and the community as Ecopetrol aims to expand its dumping of water used in oil extraction into the rivers from 300,000 liters to 600,000 liters of water a day. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 8, 2017
Security forces and workers stand by idly during a meeting held between Ecopetrol oil company and the local community in Rubiales, Meta. Signs posted by the community members read, "No more contamination! No amplification of the environmental license!" and "We are in the hands of the multinationals supported by a corrupt state that doesn't recognize the farmers." Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 8, 2017
Two Ecopetrol employees shake hands while two local fishermen affected by oil pollution listen to a meeting between Ecopetrol and the community of Rubiales to ask permission to increase the amount of water used in the extraction of oil from rivers from 300,000 liters to 600,000 liters Liters per day. Human rights defenders claim links between oil companies and paramilitary groups. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 8, 2017
Trucks carrying Ecopetrol oil kick up thick dust through a landscape crisscrossed by pipes carrying oil and water. Locals complain that dust pollution has caused respiratory problems and pollution from noise has affected animals and humans alike. April 9, 2017. Vereda Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 9, 2017
Héctor Sánchez stands along the fenceline of an Ecopetrol base in Rubiales, Meta where he is not allowed to enter. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 9, 2017
Oil processing infrastructure in Rubiales, Meta where water used to extract the oil is filtered before being returned to the rivers. April 9, 2017. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia
Children play in a pool Sunday afternoon near the community of Rubiales. Many of the rivers in the region have been contaminated by oil spills, contaminated mud runoff or recycled water used in oil extraction which is returned to the rivers. Many parents fear that these waters can affect their children. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 9, 2017
Synthetic material covers a tributary riverbank to prevent erosion where filtered water used for oil extraction is pumped back into local rivers. Cano Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 10, 2017
Synthetic material covers the bank of the river to resist erosion of the land by filtered waters used in oil extraction that are returned to the rivers by Ecopetrol near Rubiales. Ecopetrol is asking for permission from local communities to increase the amount of these waters used in the extraction of oil and then filtered and cleaned from 300,000 barrels to 700,000 barrels a day. Rubiales, Puerto Gaitan, Meta, Colombia. April 10, 2017
A lizard perches upon the synthetic material covering the riverbank as filtered water used in oil extraction is duped back into the river. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 10, 2017
Hector Sanchez goes over paperwork sent by Ecopetrol with Azdrubal Linares Vaca, a local farmer who's freshwater lagoons were contaminated by an oil spill. One side to Hector's work is assisting community members with building their legal cases after their properties have been contaminated. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 10, 2017
Azdrubal Linares Vaca, a local farmer, facing the only freshwater lagoon on his property he says that has not been contaminated by oil. An oil spill in the Caño Rubiales in 2013 contaminated 5 of its 6 lagoons and killed all his animals, also polluting his family's water source. St. Helena, Meta, Colombia. April 10, 2017
The family home of of Jose Jesus Barregan Rodriguez of Cano Rubiales who grew up here and has worked the land since before the oil company Ecopetrol arrived. Living roughly one kilometer from a water injection pad, his land experiences frequent earthquakes which has damaged the house. For fighting for the rights of the local community members, he cannot get work with the company, so to provide for his 8 children and his Sikuani wife, he fishes or works on local farms. "In one day, there are 2, 4, 5, 7 tremors, and that has damaged the houses, has damaged everything we have here." Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 10, 2017
In front of a construction site where a new police station will be built, a sign clearly reads "This is a work of the national police and does not belong to Pacifc Rubiales" the former oil company which sold its shares to Ecopetrol. Rubiales, Puerto Gaitan, Meta, Colombia. April 9, 2017
Ecopetrol engineers talk outside a mobile office in an Ecopetrol operations base near the community of Rubiales. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 9, 2017
Héctor Sánchez spends time with frinds in his community during a mall barbeque on a Sunday afternoon. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 9, 2017
Hector Sanchez photographs oil contaminated mud that was recently dumped illegally by a dump truck. When it rains, the mud will end up flowing into the local rivers. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 9, 2017
A creek bed caked in oil contamninated mud where an oil spill occured months earlier. Evidence of the spill and subsequent clean up shown by police tape that runs through the dying trees. Rubiales Meta, Colombia. April 9, 2017
The reflection of Hector Sanchez as he passes by an oil refinery while traveling with his bodyguard in an armored SUV provided to him by the Colombian state as part of his National Protection Unit. Hector has received several death threats from the "Aguilas Negras" and believes that the threats really come from Ecopetrol security forces who want to intimidate him to dislodge his community for his activism.For six months he has had this security scheme of an armored car, two bodyguards and a bulletproof vest. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 9, 2017
Modesto Paredes Vega, 66, says, "paradise is over," referring to his land of 10 hectares that he bought 10 years ago. Apart from the forest full of birds and animals that he says are gone, Modesto had a fish project where he had 1,000 fish in baskets in the river that died due to the hot and polluted water that Ecopetrol pumped into the rivers. His land also experiences earthquakes, 800 in a year due to its being located next to to Pad 6, a water injection platform used for oil extraction. Modesto says he is now environmentally displaced. Rubiales, Meta, Colombia. April 10, 2017
Héctor Sánchez uses a point and shoot camera to document blatant environmental contamination and affected living conditions due to the oil industry operating in his community. An environmental activist, union leader and president of a local community organization, he served in the military and was displaced twice by the nation’s internal conflict. Now, he’s leading the fight against Ecopetrol, the largest petroleum company in Colombia, which recently took over the Rubiales oil reserve exploration from the Canadian transnational company Pacific Rubiales.
More than half the oil produced in Colombia comes from Meta department, and more than half of that comes from the municipality of Puerto Gaitan. 83.5% of the rural population there lives below the poverty line. Pacific Rubiales invested at least USD $70 million in the Ministry of Defense between 2017-14, leading to the creation of the 15th Special Energy Battalion which provides security to the oil fields and the companies that operate them. Since the nationwide paramilitary demobilization in 2005, there has been a resurgence of “neo-paramilitary” activity in Meta conducted under the names “Bloque Libertadores de Vichada”, and the “Bloque Meta” as well as the nation wide, alleged “Aguilas Negras.” Between 2012-2015 according to official statistics, 640 people were displaced in the municipality of Puerto Gaitan, Meta.
In the course of his activism, Hector has received constant death threats in the form of pamphlets and whatsapp messages allegedly sent by the paramilitary groups. He was imprisoned for ten weeks on false charges brought against him and survived an assassination attempt while in Bogota. The last threat against him was as recent as March 25, 2017 and since December 2016, he has received state provided security measures. He also faces five open judicial processes against him, all of which were filed by companies subcontracted by Pacific Rubiales, in particular private security companies.
Julia Figueroa, human rights lawyer and leader of the CCALP, all women's legal collective, walks to her state provided bullet proof SUV with her bodyguard after a syndicate meeting in Bucaramanga, Colombia. May 8, 2017.
Julia Figueroa (left), human rights lawyer and leader of the CCALP, all women's legal collective, rides home with a young member of her collective in her state assigned bullet proof car after a syndicate meeting in Bucaramanga, Colombia. May 8, 2017.
Julia Figueroa, human rights lawyer and leader of the CCALP, all women's legal collective, speaks with Imelda Oliva Martinez Reyes whose two children were disappeared, after a meeting at the Central Unitaria de Trabajadores in Bucaramanga, Colombia on May 8, 2017.
Descending 80 meters into the mountain to a ASOMIWA gold mine. The mining cooperative that has built the community's and it’s own infrastructure, investing its profits in its people is now threatened by a private company to be displaced in order to sell the land to a transnational mining company. Mina Walter, Sur Bolivar, Colombia. May 12, 2017.
Daniel Ortiz, 48, from Cordoba, Colombia was unemployed on the coast and came to Mina Walter looking for a job. Since May 2016, he has been working to remove stones from the earth. Mina Walter South Bolivar, Colombia. May 12, 2017
Members of the ASOMIWA work barreling the mud of the mountain in a process to extract gold. South Bolivar, Colombia. May 12, 2017
Evan Manuel Sepa Anguilla, 24, William Moreno, 37, Luis Miguel Gil, 39 and Servant Four, 29 work mechanized, spinning barrels to separate the mud of the mountain in a process to extract gold. They are members of the ASOMIWA cooperative which is being threatened by a private mining company that wants to sell the land to a transnational corporation. South Bolivar, Colombia. May 12, 2017
In the community of Alto Caribona, known as Mina Walter, there is no presence of the Colombian State. It was built and maintained by the people themselves who generate electricity, provide water, built the school, church, clinic and the gold mines themselves. South Bolivar, Colombia May 12, 2017
Marisol Cueto, 42 (second from left), with her nieces Mayerly, 24, Yessica, 12 and Viviana, 32 in her restaurant. Marisol was one of the founders of Mina Walter 15 years ago and is now concerned that her family and business may be displaced by economic interests in the mine by a private company. Mina Walter, Sur Bolivar, Colombia May 12, 2017
Kids play soccer on the court made by the mining companies and the ASOMIWA cooperative in the middle of the community. Mina Walter, Sur Bolivar, Colombia. May 12, 2017
José Manuel, 35, and his wife Luz Marina originally from Otavalo, Ecuador have been in Sur Bolívar for 17 years selling clothes in mining towns but feel at ho Mina Walter is home now where they are part of the community. Jose works in the mine every now and then to earn more money to send remittances to his four children in Ecuador. Mina Walter, Sur Bolivar, Colombia. May 12, 2017.
ASOMIWA president, Alirio Rojas Viejas (left), has received multiple threats against his life due to his activism by the paramilitary group Los Gaitanistas. Mina Walter, Bolívar, Colombia May 11, 2017
Soldiers on an early morning patrol in the town of Santa Rosa where the Colombian state had never had a real presence before the new peace accords. Bolivar, Colombia May 13, 2017.
Angel Custodio Luque, one of the leaders of ASOMIWA who has been threatened by paramilitaries, ELN and the Colombian state for his work with the cooperative, in a van returning to Santa Rosa at night. Mina Walter, South Bolivar, Colombia. May 12, 2017
Community leaders and their families from Mina Walter fear to return to their town due to security concerns involving the military and possible paramilitary presence around Mina Walter. They stay with friends and family members in Santa Rosa. Many of them, already displaced by the conflict, fear they will be displaced again by the state, paramilitaries and private business working together to seize their gold mine.
The writing on the walls of the streets of Bucaramanga read, "Destroy this society, it's defenders, it's false critics." Bucaramanga, Colombia May 9, 2017
Julia Figueroa smokes a cigarette outside of a meeting while talking with her younger colleagues in Bucaramanga, Santander, Colombia. May 9, 2017.
Julia Figueroa, human rights lawyer and leader of the CCALP, all women's legal collective, meets with two young lawyers from the region who she is recruiting into her cooperative in the office during the evening in Bucaramanga, Colombia. May 9, 2017.
Imelda Olivia Martinez Reyes, 56, sits with a portrait of her daughter who was disappeared in 2004 at the age of 16 years old. Her son was also disappeared, presumably by paramilitaries, for her involvement in the Union Patriotica. She formed FUDECOLOMBIA, an organization working for disappearance victims' rights in the department of Santander. She still does not know what ever happened to her children. Bucaramanga, Colombia. May 9, 2017.
Julia Figueroa, human rights lawyer and leader of the CCALP, all women's legal collective, in the street outside her office. She has received multiple death threats in the street and has been followed, fearing for her life at times. She is now assigned two armed escorts, a bullet proof jacket and an armored truck for her protection, although she fears her very own escorts' ties to the military may put her at risk. Bucaramanga, Colombia. May 9, 2017.
Julia Figueroa founded the all female lawyer collective Cccalp (El Colectivo de Abogados Luis Carlos Pérez) in Bucaramanga, Santander department in order to “fight against impunity and defend the territory.” This work entails accompanying mothers of “false positive” victims in their legal proceedings, particularly those from the Ocaña municipality. Cccalp documented 65 cases of “false positive” extra judicial killings of 79 people by the Colombian military and is currently accompanying 6 legal cases. Furthermore, the legal collective represents a community gold mining cooperative under the threat of displacement to cede mineral rights to a transnational company in a zone which has never been under the control of the Colombian state, but rather various guerrilla and paramilitary groups.
Since forming Cccalp, Julia and her team have faced threats via telephone and letters, bomb threats to the office, accusations of supporting Farc guerrillas, information theft from the office and electrical interference of office systems attributed to the now defunct Colombian State security apparatus, DAS.
While she has been assigned state provided security in the form of a bullet proof SUV and vest as well as two full time bodyguards, she fears for her personal safety and of her team of lawyers in the streets of Bucaramanga. Three times she has been openly followed as an intimidation tactic while walking only blocks from her office, and she worries that her security detail may betray her for her work that is considered my many with ties to the military and paramilitary organizations as “leftist.”
Members of ASOQUIMBO return to their hometown at 3am after a ceremonious homecoming for their battle against the Italian transnational company ENEL which constructed the Quimbo dam on the Magdalena River, displacing some 30,000 farmers and fishermen and disrupting a productive agricultural region. Neiva, Huila, Colombia. 18 de marzo, 2017
An old boat floats among dead trees in the flooded Magdalena river valley which is now a reservoir for the Quimbo hydroelectric dam near the town of Las Jaguas, Huila, Colombia. March 18, 2017
A jet ski passes under a recently constructed bridge running over the Quimbo dam reservoir that fills the Magdalena river valley near the town of Las Jaguas, Huila, Colombia. March 18, 2017
Members of ASOQUIMBO join together in a rally in the central park of Neiva, Huila to listen to Miller Dussan and other resistance leaders before a homecoming event in the capital city. Neiva, Huila, Colombia 2017 / Miembros de ASOQUIMBO durante un plantón de los líderes del movimiento en el parque central de Neiva, Huila. 17 de marzo, 2017. Neiva, Huila, Colombia
Members of ASOQUIMBO stand together in front of a large crowd to receive a ceremonious homecoming for their battle against the Italian transnational company ENEL which constructed the Quimbo dam on the Magdalena River. Neiva, Huila, Colombia. 17 de marzo, 2017
Miller Dussan, professor and leader of ASOQUIMBO is interviewed by the local media during a homecoming rally for the resistance in Neiva, Huila, Colombia.
A fisherman manages to catch a fish in a flooded tributary river that used to flow through forest into the Magdalena River, but now dies in the reservoir created by the Quimbo dam, greatly reducing the fish population due to algae blooms and disruption of habitat. Near Las Jaguas, Huila, Colombia. 2017
Stumps are all that is left of forest that once stood along the banks of a tributary river that flowed into the Magdalena River and was the source of fishing for many local fishermen before the construction of the Quimbo dam. Near Las Jaguas, Huila, Colombia. March 18, 2017
A young man observes the Magdalena River a few kilometers after the Quimbo dam from a restaurant lookout. Writing on the wall says "Forbidden to climb the wall." Local fishermen say that according to the construction of the dam, the river no longer flows and has reduced the amount of fish to a level below what they can subsist on. March 19, 2017. Near the Jaguas, Huila, Colombia.
Miller Dussan (second from right), professor and leader of ASOQUIMBO rides up to the base of the Quimbo dam with local fishermen who have been part of the resistance to the construction of dams along the Magdalena river. Neiva, Huila, Colombia.
8,586 hectares of land apt for cultivating cacao, tobacco, corn, beans, plantains, coffee and papaya lie beneath the placid tank of water held in by the Quimbo dam, restricting it from flowing into the Magdalena River. The roughly 30,000 farmers who worked those lands had to evacuate and find new homes with the final completion of the mega project in 2015 by Italian owned company Enel and its Colombian subsidiary Emgesa.
For Miller Dussan, a professor and researcher at the University of Neiva in the capital of Huila department, that didn’t sit well. He left his family’s farm at the age of 11 to begin working to support his family and “has been fighting ever since.” With degrees in education from the University of Barcelona and a masters in Social and Educational Development, he formed the Association of people affected by the hydroelectric project El Quimbo (Asoquimbo) along with the communities affected and displaced by the construction of the dam. Asoquimbo, made up of some 3,000 farmers, fishermen and artisanal miners claims their livelihoods were destroyed along with some of the most productive and peaceful agricultural lands in Colombia, while the dam is generating energy for other extractive industries rather than serving the local population.
As figurehead of the Asoquimbo resistance group, Miller has become a target of multiple legal proceedings brought against him directly by Enel-Emgesa as well a the Colombian military. Charges of “obstructing public roads affecting public order” and “land invasion” carried sentences of up to twelve years in prison. While charges have always been dropped upon lack of substantiating evidence upon launching his own investigations, this tactic serves to inhibit his work by discrediting him and the movement and putting emotional, psychological and financial pressure on his family. The intended result of these attacks is to limit the democratic process of communities intending to subject companies to public scrutiny for the construction of mega projects.