THE police officers barricaded themselves inside sandbagged stations. When they left on sporadic patrols, they rode in packs of six, clutching rifles, their faces hidden behind masks.
They do not venture deeper into the jungle. Out there, in the remote part of northeast Colombia, dirt roads wind past fields of coca and white flags flutter outside homes of civilians desperate to avoid the crossfire between two guerilla groups battling for territory.
Young fighters in dark-green fatigues inspect vehicles and control access to parts of the Catatumbo region along the Venezuelan border, enforcing curfews, speed limits and rough justice for petty crimes.
Farther into the hills, their comrades hunt rivals and launch drone attacks, locked in one of the deadliest conflicts born from Colombia’s failed promise of peace.
“Coca is the cause of bloodshed in Catatumbo,” said Jose Reyes Quintero, 82, a farmer, referring to the plant harvested to make cocaine.
The guerilla groups, he added, have “compassion for nobody”.
Ten years ago, the world watched as Colombian leaders signed a landmark peace deal meant to end one of Latin America’s longest and bloodiest internal conflicts.
For more than half a century, Colombia fought a brutal war against the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), a leftist insurgency that left at least 220,000 people dead.
The 2016 accord led to the disarmament of 13,000 fighters from what was then the largest guerilla group in the western hemisphere.
The agreement earned Colombia’s president a Nobel Peace Prize and raised hopes that the country was finally turning the page on war.
But peace never fully arrived.
Almost immediately, old and new armed groups began carving up Colombia’s impoverished regions.
They filled vacuums where the state failed to establish a permanent presence, fighting over illegal gold mines and drug-trafficking routes in the world’s largest cocaine-producing nation.
Researchers say illegal armed groups now have a presence in nearly half of Colombia’s municipalities. Their ranks have swelled through recruitment campaigns, including of children, while rebel groups have combined traditional jungle warfare with modern drone technology.
Former president Gustavo Petro staked his presidency on a policy known as “Total Peace”, which sought negotiated settlements with armed groups still operating across the country.
He argued that dialogue offered an alternative to endless conflict, but critics say armed groups used ceasefires and talks to strengthen their territorial control and expand criminal economies.
“Total Peace was a total failure,” said Laura Bonilla, deputy director of the Foundation of Peace and Reconciliation, a Colombian research group.
“The armed forces still think they’re fighting the FARC and not groups that don’t have camps, that are difficult to bomb, which are spread out, extorting everyone and causing major civilian harm.”
The consequences are especially visible in Catatumbo, a vast maze of mountains and jungle isolated by decades of weak state presence and poor infrastructure.
For years, guerillas and coca cultivation have filled the void. Cocaine and weapons move easily across the porous border with neighbouring Venezuela.
In late March, five guerilla fighters manned the base of a transmission tower they had transformed into a hidden bunker.
They carried rifles but also an arsenal of drones: small kamikaze models for short-range attacks and larger ones capable of dropping homemade explosives on enemies kilometres away.
The fighters belonged to the 33rd Front, a dissident FARC faction that rejected the peace agreement.
The group is among dozens of factions that rearmed after the accord.
Their enemy is the National Liberation Army (ELN), a guerrilla movement founded in the 1960s by radical priests and Marxist intellectuals. Both groups claim to defend poor communities and neither shows any willingness to lay down arms.
“The guerrillas have always been in Catatumbo,” said Andrey Avendano, commander of the 33rd Front.
“Guerrilla commanders could die, guerrilla fighters could die, soldiers and police officers will die.
“But the problem will persist because Colombia’s problem will be resolved when we resolve need and inequality.”
The groups survive by taxing the illicit economies that dominate the region.
They collect money from drug traffickers who buy cocaine paste produced from coca crops, while also imposing levies on coal mining and palm oil production.
As the 33rd Front expanded and sought to win local support by building roads and bridges, tensions with the ELN deepened.
The tipping point came in January 2025 after the killing of a funeral-home owner, his wife and their baby.
The ELN blamed the 33rd Front, which denied responsibility, and launched an offensive that plunged Catatumbo into open warfare.
Since then, civilians and community leaders have been killed, drone attacks have terrorised residents and thousands of families have been displaced or confined to their homes.
The conflict has forced around 100,000 people from their homes – nearly one-third of Catatumbo’s population – creating one of Colombia’s worst humanitarian crises in recent years.
For many observers, the region has become a stark reminder of how fragile peace can be when the underlying causes of conflict remain unresolved.
In Tibu, Catatumbo’s largest town, community leader Jaime Botero is one of the few who has not fled.
He understands why many residents are demanding a tougher response from the state. But after decades of war, he fears more violence will simply create another cycle of suffering.
“Starting one conflict to finish another is not the solution,” he said. “We’ve seen that story play out for 50 years.” — ©2026 The New York Times Company
This article originally appeared in The New York Times
Already a subscriber? Log in
Get 20% OFF The Star Digital Access
Cancel anytime. Ad-free. Unlimited access with perks.
