Fragmentos: Colombia between Legitimacy and Violence

— Burning guns at Fragmentos

Having been exposed to Colombia since 2014—and married to a Bogotá-born sociologist and scholar—it has taken me several years just to begin to grasp the sociopolitical and legal reality of this country. Just to begin, let me be clear.

Far from the tropes of magical realism, Colombia’s recent political history reveals a brutal material realism—one that coexists with poetry and metaphysics in equal measure.

As a lawyer, I can think of no better way to describe it than with the words of my colleague Dr Michael Reed: “Colombia, between legitimacy and violence.”

Yet this reality is not always visible to the eye. As Colombian photographerJesús Báez reminded me, to truly understand Colombia’s struggle for peace, and even its legal reality, one must learn to see with the heart.

Peace here is not a static ideal—it is a living process. And it can only begin to make sense if we are willing to confront, with honesty, the systemic violence that runs both within and around us.

In Colombia, peace is not declared; it is built—painfully and patiently—through truth, a carefully crafted and constantly evolving legal process, justice, and collective memory.

Guernica 37 Centre's co-founder, Almudena Bernabéu, has been actively involved for decades in transitional justice efforts across Latin America. In Colombia, our work has included strategic litigation, legal capacity-building, and close cooperation with both victims’ organisations and state institutions.

With a strong presence in London, Bogotá, San Francisco and Madrid, the Guernica 37 Centre brings an unique transnational legal perspective to processes of truth, justice, and reconciliation all around the world.

This visit to Colombia formed part of our commitment to support and assess the efforts being made to strengthen the implementation of the 2016 Peace Agreement. 

It gave us the opportunity to engage directly with institutions, civil society actors, and former combatants at a critical moment in the country’s post-conflict journey—and to see its current state, nearly a decade after the accord was signed.

At the Special Jurisdiction for Peace, we saw committed work, but also the pressure to show results. Government officials admitted that momentum behind the peace deal has weakened, amid growing political opposition. We also heard about stalled land reform and the neglect of rural communities.

Conversations with former combatants showed enormeous tensions. As organised crime replaces ideology as the main driver of violence, Colombia may need to reassess its approach to achieving lasting peace.

La Vida se abre paso (Life finds a way)

Our visit included theCentro de Memoria, Paz y Reconciliación, where we attended the photographic exhibition ofJesús “Chucho” Abad. His portraits of rural Colombia offered a powerful visual account of the cruelty experienced by victims of the armed conflict. These are not anonymous figures—his images show people with names and faces, individuals who speak through their gaze and presence. In doing so, Chucho restores a sense of humanity often lost in political or legal language.

His work reveals the personal weight of violence, asking the viewer to see not only what happened, but who it happened to. Through his lens, we were invited into an inner journey—from scenes of death, mourning, and war to moments of life, nature, and quiet beauty: babies, animals, rivers, and landscapes. In this contrast lies a powerful truth—that even in destruction, there is space for dignity, and the possibility of hope.

During the exhibition, we were joined byFather Francisco de Roux, former president of the Colombian Truth Commission. He shared reflections on the path ahead, emphasising the urgent need for renewed and honest dialogue between the armed forces and civil society. His words were a timely reminder that peace is not built by institutions alone, but also through trust, listening, and recognition across divides.

On our last day together, our visit to Fragmentos provided a moment of silence and reflection that marked the end of our journey. Created by Doris Salcedo, this counter-monument invites visitors to stand on a floor made from weapons surrendered by the FARC and shaped by women survivors of sexual violence. It is a place where silence holds meaning and where memory is expressed through absence and presence. I recommend to watch this video to get a sense of the importance of this unique space. 

At Guernica 37 Centre we believe that dignity and humanity are at the centre of any social or political struggle. This journey reaffirmed Guernica 37’s role not only as a legal actor but as a bridge-builder committed to inclusive dialogue and restorative justice.

Sometimes we forget that every change—whether through slow reform or sudden upheaval—involves people. In the middle of a reality that is often harsh, we must make the effort to stand with those who work to build hope.

Celebrating life, as Chucho Baez reminded us, is part of that process. It reminds us why the work matters and gives us the strength to carry on. It also helps build the trust and connection we need to keep walking together toward a fairer world.

Saying that, we also had time to enjoy Bogotá—its vibrant Candelaria, local restaurants, and even a night of salsa.

I come back with deep respect for the Colombian people’s pursuit of truth, and with a renewed sense of responsibility to support that effort through committed and principled international engagement.