Colombia: Country in the Crossfire
Delegation Report

From January 15-27, 2003, a delegation of 27 U.S. citizens and residents studied and experienced the impact of U.S. foreign policy under "Plan Colombia." This is the delegation's report.

SUMMARY OF FINDINGS

COLOMBIA'S CONFLICT. Colombia is a country at war with itself. The interconnected reasons for this conflict include cycles of violence resulting from longstanding power struggles; economic inequalities that characterize Colombian society; competition over Colombia's land, resources, and energy; struggle for control over the drug trade; and the impact of multinational corporations, liberalized trade, and U.S. policy. There are at least four armed factions fighting in Colombia. Including the army and police, there are about 300,000 armed actors in a conflict now intensified by hundreds of millions of dollars of U.S. military aid under "Plan Colombia." The victims are most often innocent civilians of a country caught in the crossfire.
DISPLACEMENT. More than 2 million Colombians have been displaced by the war in the last decade. Only Sudan has a larger number of displaced people. Displacement results from multi-national interest in resources, struggles for control of the drug trade, laundering of drug money through land purchases, and efforts of competing armed groups to compel political allegiance. Thus, 300,000 Colombians are driven from their homes annually, some for the second or third time. Afro-Colombians and the indigenous suffer displacement in greater proportions than others. Our delegation visited the "misery belts" where these victims have resettled and learned of their plight firsthand.
FAILED DRUG POLICIES. Despite three rounds of intense aerial fumigations, U.S. government statistics show that coca cultivation has increased in Colombia over the past two years. Aerial fumigation results in serious health problems for rural families, destruction of licit crops, economic and social dis-ruption, and environmental degradation. This counterproductive strategy ignores the economic realities that drive small farmers to cultivate the only crop that brings them a livable income in the context of a global marketplace stacked against them.
SOCIO-ECONOMIC ISSUES. Whether justified as a war on drugs or on terror, current U.S. policy neglects the socio-economic roots of the conflict and perpetuates human rights abuses. In Colombia, where spending for education and health care is decreasing; where human rights workers, labor leaders, social workers, priests and journalists are targeted; and where poverty increases while military solutions prevail, U.S. policy must not ignore those calling for practical alternative solutions.

SUMMARY OF POLICY RECOMMENDATIONS

The Witness for Peace delegation repeatedly heard during its visit to Colombia that U.S. policy is like "throwing gasoline on a fire." Here is a summary of our recommendations (which are explained more fully at the end of this report):

*Suspend U.S. military aid and redirect economic assistance to help Colombia's civil society. U.S. policy must recognize that "security" is not defined in purely military terms. Rather, achieving "peace" entails a substantial economic investment that addresses the economic roots of the conflict.

*Ensure greater transparency and accountability for economic assistance.

*Seek multilateral participation in assistance programs and conflict resolution/peacekeeping efforts.

*Make the protection and strengthening of human rights a central focus of U.S. policy and a condition of U.S. aid.

*Abandon aerial fumigation in favor of an eradication strategy that promotes sustainable economic development.

*Invest more on drug treatment and "harm reduction" strategies.

*Negotiate trade agreements that foster the ability of small farmers and small businesses to compete fairly in the global marketplace, and that protect the rights of workers.

*Pressure the Colombian government to enact political, judicial, and social reforms.

*Enact policies that lessen U.S. dependence on foreign oil.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Section 1) About the Delegation……………………………………………………………3

Section 2) Roots of the Conflict……………………………………………………4-8

Section 3) Soacha Visit…………………………………………………………………………9-11

Section 4) Putumayo Delegation Report…………………………………12-17

Section 5) Medellín Delegation Report…………………………………18-23

Section 6) U.S. Policy recommendations………………………………24-26

ABOUT THE DELEGATION

Our delegation's goal was to learn about and experience the impact of "Plan Colombia," a centerpiece of U.S. foreign policy for Latin America. The 27-member group consisted of 16 women and 11 men, ranging in age from the early twenties to the eighties. We represented a broad range of professions and interests: human rights activists, students, university professors, journalists, labor organizers, lawyers, an organic farmer, a physician, a politician, a small business owner, a nun and a Congressional aide. Ten states, the District of Columbia, and Puerto Rico were represented. The delegation was sponsored by Witness for Peace and Global Exchange. All participants paid their own way or raised independent funds to sponsor their travel.

Witness for Peace (www.witnessforpeace.org) is a politically independent, grassroots organization. It is committed to nonviolence and led by faith and conscience. Its mission is to support peace, justice and sustainable economies in the Americas by changing U.S. policies and corporate practices which contribute to poverty and oppression in Latin America and the Caribbean. Witness for Peace stands with people who seek justice. Witness for Peace is based in Washington, DC with regional organizations across the U.S. It operates international offices in Managua, Nicaragua; Mexico City, Mexico; Havana, Cuba; and Bogotá, Colombia.

Global Exchange (www.globalexchange.org) is a San-Francisco-based human rights organization dedicated to promoting environmental, political and social justice around the world. Since its founding in 1988, it has been striving to increase global awareness among the U.S. public, while building international partnerships around the world.

ROOTS OF THE CONFLICT

To understand the roots of the conflict in Colombia one has to look at a multiplicity of issues related to history, power politics, economics, natural resources, and drugs. It would be simplistic to identify this nearly four-decades-old civil conflict as a clear-cut struggle between good and evil. As we were told repeatedly, this complex conflict is Colombia's war, not that of the United States; Colombians must be the ones to solve their own problems. However, members of Colombian non-governmental organizations also told us that U.S. military aid to the Colombian government was "like throwing gasoline on a fire."

That fire was initially sparked by a brutal power struggle throughout the 19th and 20th centuries between Colombia's two major political parties, the Conservatives and the Liberals. Colombia's civil war now involves multiple groups of armed actors, several of which organized themselves because their voices were excluded from a system dominated by the Conservative and Liberal elites. The largest of the leftist guerrilla forces is the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, or FARC, with 15-20,000 members. The next largest is the ELN, or the National Liberation Army with 3-5,000 members. Also involved in the conflict are right-wing paramilitary groups, most notably the AUC, or United Self-Defense Groups of Colombia, which is an umbrella group that consists of paramilitary units throughout the country. In addition, the Armed Forces of Colombia and the National Police engage in the armed conflict. There are also numerous armed groups that exist on a smaller scale at the local level that fight as "militias" -- generally on the side of the guerrillas -- or "self-defense forces" -- generally on the side of the paramilitaries.

Economic inequality is a major factor perpetuating the cycle of violence in Colombia. Levels of poverty and unemployment are high. According to Colombian analyst Felix Posada, 66% of the Colombian population lives in poverty. Eleven million of these (25% of the population) live on less than $1/day. Unemployment is over 18%, and underemployment -- the lack of a regular and predictable income -- is estimated to be about 33%. In addition, wealth is highly concentrated. Posada described the situation in stark terms: "About 400 people control the legal economy, and one person controls 25% of the financial capital because he controls four banks." Conglomerates led by a few wealthy individuals wield economic control through concentrated holdings in major industries such as beverages, airlines, department stores and media companies. Posada noted that the richest 10% of Colombians earn 56% of the income while the poorest 10% earn 0.38%. A mere one percent of the people control 53% of the arable land.
The impact of poverty is exacerbated by Colombia's foreign debt. Colombia's external debt of $37 billion has been re-financed through a "structural adjustment" plan negotiated with the International Monetary Fund (IMF). This plan has required Colombia to cut social spending in order to finance debt service. Debt payments now eat up 42% of Colombia's national budget, resulting in drastic cuts in health care, education and social programs. At the same time, Colombia's government has ramped up military spending from $2.5 billion to $3.5 billion annually to meet U.S. requirements for continued support through Plan Colombia.

The situation of Colombia's poor is exacerbated by liberalized trade policy like the Andean Trade Preferences Agreement (ATPA) with the U.S. This agreement benefits some sectors of Colombia's economy by allowing textiles, clothing, and leather goods to enter the U.S. market tariff-free. But ATPA requires Colombia to accept U.S. agricultural products without protective tariffs. Colombian farmers cannot compete with subsidized U.S. agribusiness which "dumps" products on their market, according to analysts we interviewed. The resulting decrease in prices destroys the livelihood of small farmers. This blow followed a sharp decline in world coffee prices that had already decimated a key sector of Colombian agriculture.

These realities contribute to increased coca production as small farmers desperately seek viable income with which to feed their families and to preserve a treasured way of life on their land. Unfortunately, the increase in coca cultivation brings armed actors who seek to control the drug trade. The FARC and the AUC, in particular, finance their operations in part through acting as purchasers or middlemen for drug traffickers, or through extortion ("taxation") that further impoverishes already-suffering farmers. They compete for the allegiance of local farmers who are threatened by one group and then by another in the never-ending conflict over control of the trade. Finally, the U.S. "war on drugs," rather than addressing the drug problem from the demand side, emphasizes eradication by spraying these same impoverished farmers with harmful chemicals from the air.

With few employment opportunities, and limited access to education and other social services, poor young people in this distorted social context are particularly vulnerable targets for the paramilitaries and the guerrillas. Truly caught in the crossfire, poor young people are faced with the bleak choice between dying of hunger and dying while fighting. Paramilitaries and guerrillas, whose intimidating presence is felt in Colombia's poor urban and rural areas, recruit and/or forcibly enlist young people who may find military service more appealing than a life of impoverishment. With a uniform and a gun comes an income.
Another component of the most recent phase of the conflict is President Alvaro Uribe Velez's emphasis on military solutions to Colombia's problems. Colombia has increased military spending dramatically. Uribe's Democratic Security plan restricts civil liberties and calls for enlistment of one million "citizen infor-mants" throughout Colombia. The plan has established a program of soldatos campesinos, or rural citizen soldiers, hauntingly similar to the notorious Guatemalan PACs of the 1980s. These military-oriented approaches to Colombia's problems occur in the context of President Uribe's full support of trade liberalization and privatization--policies that benefit Colombia's elites and further impoverish Colombia's poor, thereby worsening the very problems the military program is supposed to solve.

The armed groups, too, have implemented more militaristic policies in this recent phase. In the 1990s, the FARC took advantage of the dismantling of the Medellín and Cali drug cartels to insert themselves more fully into the drug trade (now more decentralized), and they used the peace process undertaken by former president Pastrana to strengthen themselves militarily. Similarly, many analysts believe the AUC benefit from the current militarization of national policy. Paramilitaries have historic ties to the Colombian military and it is not uncommon to see graffiti linking President Uribe to the paramilitaries. Many observers even blame Uribe for some of the paramilitary violence committed in Antioquia while governor of that department.

Plan Colombia was originally justified as a U.S. initiative in the war on drugs. Clearly, the cocaine trade is linked to the conflict. Drug traffickers purchase vast amounts of land--many as cattle ranches--to facilitate money laundering. They hire mercenaries to guard their landholdings. All sides of the conflict receive funding from the drug trade. But this conflict, at its roots, is not about drugs. Soon after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, drug war restrictions for U.S. military aid to Colombia were lifted, and Plan Colombia became part of the war on terror. In the view of several analysts with whom we talked, the counter-narcotics war has become a counter-insurgency war.

Regional geopolitical considerations help to explain this shift. Colombia occupies an increasingly important geopolitical position to the U.S. Both for its geographic location at the junction of Central and South America, and for its abundance of resources, Colombia is crucial to the successful implementation of proposed plans for free trade and economic integration of the Americas. Colombia's most important export is oil, notes Felix
Posada, who explains that the most recent $98 million increase in
U.S. aid is being spent training Colombian soldiers to protect the oil pipeline of the U.S. corporation, Occidental Petroleum. The new U.S. military trainers arrived while we were in Colombia.

As the U.S. seeks independence from energy sources in the Middle East, relations with Colombia and the other oil-rich nations of South America are increasingly important to the United States. Colombian economist and social activist Hector Mondragon argues that U.S. military aid to Colombia is actually designed to address the whole Andean region, a point exemplified by the recent change in name of the U.S. aid plan from "Plan Colombia" to the "Andean Initiative." Mondragon points out that this regional policy is complemented by the U.S. "New Horizons Plan" in Paraguay and by new U.S. bases in Ecuador, Aruba and Curacao.

Colombia borders Venezuela, Brazil, and Ecuador, all nations of importance to U.S. economic interests, and all currently led by leftist/populist presidents. The Andean region is vital to the passage and implementation of the proposed Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA) agreement, backed by the U.S., but opposed by growing numbers of Latin Americans, including Venezuela's Hugo Chavez and Brazil's Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva.

In this crucial region, Colombia is the key ally of U.S. trade ambitions. Along with the FTAA, U.S. business interests are set to profit from several other proposed plans for economic integration, in which Colombia's cooperation is necessary. Like Plan Puebla Panama in México and Central America, the Initiative for Integration of Infrastructure in South America (IIRSA) calls for connection of highways and waterways throughout the continent in order to open up trade routes (see www.IIRSA.org). As the gateway to South America, Colombia is an indispensable site for the construction of this infrastructure, explained Mondragon.
Moreover, along with FTAA, the construction of a new Interoceanic Canal is proposed for the Panama border region of Colombia.

Colombian social activist Ricardo Esquivia points out that land in the Panama border region of Colombia--largely populated by Afro-Colombians and indigenous peoples--is being purchased by companies anxious to capitalize on the economic potential of this region. Tragically, displacement of civilians as a result of sustained political violence has facilitated multinational investment in oil, coal, and mineral resource development.

Obviously, the conflict in Colombia is complex. It is rooted in a set of interrelated factors--historic political power struggles, endemic poverty and economic inequality, debt and structural adjustment, newly liberalized trade regimes, conflict over resources, the drug trade, strategic geopolitical interests of the great economic powers, and excessive reliance on violence to solve problems.

Despite a seriously frayed social fabric, Colombia is not without heroic actors in civil society striving to weave alternative solutions. Those who have organized themselves to speak out against the cycles of violence and against entrenched interests that benefit from an intolerable situation find themselves at risk. The following sections of our report summarize what we learned from our visits with those who are literally caught in the crossfire--both the innocent victims of Colombia's tragedy, and the valiant but threatened weavers of a new social fabric. What follows is a witness to their reality.

SOACHA VISIT

The delegation's visit to Soacha on January 19, 2003, the third day of our work in Colombia, marked our first chance to experience the social upheaval and displacement we had heard about during two days of briefings in Bogotá. No briefing could prepare us for the extremes of hope and despair Soacha presents.
Soacha is located in the "misery belt" on the eastern outskirts of Bogotá. It is a city in its own right, though few in the U.S. would associate the word 'city' with the sprawl of shacks and shanties that define it. On Soacha's hillsides live an estimated 348,000 people. Many are "displaced" Afro-Colombians, a group that has suffered and continues to suffer disproportionately in the crossfire of the Colombian war.
That's why we are here--to meet them, to hear their stories and to understand the work of the Association of Displaced Afro-Colombians, AFRODES, the community organization that tries to represent their interests and hold their culture together.
That's no easy task here. Jailer Romano, an AFRODES organizer and our guide in Soacha, puts it this way: "For Afro-Colombians our land is our soul. For centuries we have conserved our land.... One of the worst catastrophes is displacement. It breaks up our social structure and kinship ties. For Afro-Colombians to come to a city like this is very sour."
Many of the people here have been displaced from Choco, an area of Pacific coastal plain beyond the Andes, where many former slaves settled. There they enjoyed abundant streams for fishing, fertile farms to work, vibrant community life. In Soacha, by contrast, there are steep eroding hillsides, dusty roads, open sewers. There's fresh water, if you're lucky enough to get it, fed by a labyrinth of hoses and valves for only two hours a day.
When people first arrive here they are squatters. There is a process by which they can eventually get title to the land on which they live, working through AFRODES with an apparently benevolent landholder. But no one wants to stay here. The Colombian Constitution of 1991, combined with laws passed in 1993, grants rights to the lands from which these people were displaced. AFRODES is working to secure those rights also, but in the current reality that hope seems as remote for these people as the beautiful countryside they once called home.
Despite the displacement and the depressing conditions in Soacha, there is pride and hope here. Rosalina welcomes us into her house after a climb up a steep path from an AFRODES community center. She's pleased with the progress from the corroded tin shack they began with in 1996. Now brick walls encase the tin structure that still forms a central room. They hope to add more rooms and a cement floor to cover the dirt someday.
It will take more than cement to cover the torment that brought these people here. Rosalina diverts her eyes and shakes her head when asked to describe the incident that drove her from Riosucio in Choco. What does she remember about Choco? "I re-member everything," she says with tears in her eyes. "The smell of the air, the feel of the earth; I remember it all. I would love to be there." She breaks down and cries and we cry with her.
A bit further up the hill we meet María. She and her family fled Antioquia for Soacha three years ago. They left behind a comfortable home and a banana farm. "There was so much killing," Maria says. "It was hard to get used to it."
Her one-year-old daughter nurses at her breast as she talks about dealing with the violence. "These things affect us really badly, but there is not much we can do. We take care of our own. We don't want to create more violence."
Vasileza is less settled here than some, but she insists we take chairs while she sits on a pile of planks in a house that is loaned to her. A wood fire smolders on the dirt where she cooks food she has scavenged. Despite the surroundings, she presents the dignity and determination of a favorite aunt.
In Choco, she owned two houses; one of which she rented out. A neighbor informed her when armed men slit a man's throat in the doorway of her house, and she never went back. She can talk about what drove her away, but has only a vague idea as to why.
"I don't know where it came from; I just know it's there," she says. When the violence first started, "We were all at a dance and they came in and just started killing us." 'They,' she explains, were white men, strangers, who were welcomed to the dance, and seemed to enjoy the hospitality before the guns appeared. "It was bad luck," she adds, shaking her head. "I suspect it had something to do with the government."
That the government was involved in the displacement is conjecture. Various factions displace innocent civilians. Those who will not take sides are driven away. The beloved land they inhabited is rich in resources desired by powerful economic interests. The displaced residents of Soacha do not know what has happened to their land.
That the Colombian government offers little help or hope to the displaced is hard fact. A Colombian plan to intensify the government's war effort, and U.S. demands that Colombians pay a bigger part of the bill for that war, mean that just eight percent of Colombia's budget goes for social programs and education. Little of that money gets here. The people here have heard of Plan Colombia. But little of the U.S. aid allocated for social programs seems to get here either.
None of the people we met from AFRODES are waiting for help. "I want to move my family forward," was a phrase we heard on our visit. María wants her children to attend school, but can't afford it. Rosalina has a child in the World Vision school, but has to pay for uniforms and books.
Primary school is a right, according to Colombia's 1991 Constitution, but that right exists more on paper than on the dusty streets of Soacha. Where primary schools do exist, displacement adds more children than the schools can accommodate. The closest secondary school to Soacha is across the valley in Ciudad Bolivar. When there is a place in school, teachers often marginalize the displaced Afro-Colombians by ignoring them in class. Racism adds to the suffering of displacement.
"So we decided to construct a school for the entire commun-ity," Luz Marina Becerra states. She is General Secretary of AFRODES and coordinator for the women's programs. It is no accident that we have met so many women and children and so few men on our visit. Marina notes that women are most affected by displacement. Violence often leaves them widows. "Family conflicts," growing out of the hardships, leave even more women to fend for themselves.
World Vision partnered with AFRODES on the school, and the community is looking for help to finish a children's center that will help with childcare while mothers search for work to help support their families. The schools and community centers have another purpose too: They remind the Afro-Colombians of Soacha that their culture still exists.
In 1991 Colombia's Constitution recognized the multicultural heritage of the nation, but the spirit of the law is rarely upheld. "When laws are made, but not carried out, we have to carry them out," Marina remarks defiantly. "We don't have to educate only ourselves, but we must also educate all of Colombian culture that we exist.... For us, it's a triple discrimination: We're women, Afro-Colombian, and displaced."
As we listen to this sort of determination and defiance, our admiration and belief in these people is tempered by a nagging thought: These people were displaced by forces with no respect for their humanity or their culture. They were simply in the way of people with more money or power. So how do those forces feel about the organizing AFRODES is doing here?
"The history of Colombia is a history of discrimination for the Afro-Colombian community," Jailer Romano answers. "There is no recognition of our humanity. We're 10.5 million people, and our existence is denied by the state.... Trying to organize our community goes against these forces. Our leaders are persecuted, but our work has to go on... so we can win back our rights."
Soacha is built on a steep hillside. It is difficult for a visitor to maintain a sense of balance here, literally and figuratively. The people of Soacha opened their community to us, fed us and, in a very real sense, offered a hand to steady us on a difficult journey. Open hands offered to strangers.... Now, thousands of miles away, the least we can do is hold on.

PUTUMAYO VISIT

Putumayo is among the southernmost departments, or states, in Colombia. Until very recently it was almost completely ignored by the rest of the country. People who were displaced by the violence in the rest of Colombia fled here to farm alongside the indigenous people and the campesinos (farmers) who for decades have called the region home.
Putumayo is divided into three distinct geographical regions. The Andean region is known as Upper Putumayo. Middle and Lower Putumayo are at the headwaters of the Amazon where the climate is ideal for growing coca. This cultivation of coca, and the controversial efforts funded under Plan Columbia to eradicate the crop, have brought new attention to the region and thrust it into the crossfire in Colombia's conflict.
Our delegation began its visit in Upper Putumayo and the Valley of Sibundoy. Colombia's conflict has only recently come to this valley; as such it represents a microcosm of how the violence envelops innocent civilians in Colombia. Here we met with indigenous groups, displaced people, social organizers, environmental activists, clergy, and campesinos. We concluded our visit in the department's capital of Mocoa, located in Middle Putumayo. Mocoa is the headquarters of the 24th Brigade of the Colombian Army. In Mocoa we met with the Brigade command as well as religious, social, labor, and education workers.
In Putumayo, we heard about links between the military and the paramilitaries. We learned firsthand of the plight of indigenous Colombians, rural youth, fumigated farmers and displaced refugees. And we attended an historic Mass for Peace.

LINKS BETWEEN PARAMILITARIES AND THE MILITARY IN PUTUMAYO

The Valley of Sibundoy is located in the Upper, or Andean, region of Putumayo. Although far from graffiti in Bogotá that proclaims "URIBE = AUC," many of Sibundoy's citizens hold that that same belief. We heard from prominent local priests, members of the Fundacion Cultural, and the Vice President of the National Campesino Organization (ANUC) that the Colombian army and the paramilitary groups are closely linked. One local priest has been denounced by the Attorney General for publicly commenting on the "marriage" between the army and the AUC.
That the AUC has recently established a presence in the valley is not an issue of debate. Five families were displaced by the paramilitaries two days prior to our arrival. As our bus wound along the road outside of one town we saw their houses standing empty, clean laundry still hanging on the clotheslines, red spray-painted graffiti proclaiming the AUC's presence. The priests with whom we met confirmed 20 deaths in November and December of 2002, along with 5 more on January 2, 2003.
Residents here have almost no expectation that local and federal authorities will represent and protect civilians. Members of the Fundacion Cultural explained that local people cannot count on the police or military for security. Furthermore, according to Eder Jair Sanchez, the Vice President of ANUC, community leaders informed the army months ago of the AUC's arrival in the valley, and of the subsequent violence and displacement suffered by the residents. The military has yet to respond.
At the 24th Brigade Headquarters in Mocoa, we spoke with the Chief of Intelligence, Major Castro. Although he prefers the term "self-defense groups," Castro admits there are para-militaries in Sibundoy, but adds, "We don't think they have a solid structure." Castro says the military has been unable to confirm many of the killings reported in Sibundoy and implies that these civilian reports might be nothing more than rumors spread by people stirring up trouble. Similarly, civilians tend to distrust military reporting. The alleged links between the army and the paramilitaries could explain why the military does not always confirm reported murders and displacements.
A clear pattern emerged from accounts provided in our meetings: Once a military presence is established in a region, the AUC sets up a base of operations nearby. Violence and displacement then increase substantially. Also disturbing were numerous eyewitness reports describing violent acts and human rights abuses carried out by Colombian soldiers wearing paramilitary armbands. Even the U.S. government officials in Colombia with whom we met corroborated that there are explicit ties between lower-ranking members of the military and the AUC.
In Sibundoy, priests and community leaders have vocally condemned the actions of the armed actors, including the AUC. It is no surprise that they are not comforted by the military's knowledge of their resistance. Other armed actors have also responded to the church's rejection of the violence. We heard the story of one courageous local priest, Father Alcides Jimenez, who was assassinated by the FARC in 1998 for his leadership in the peace movement.

INDIGENOUS PEOPLES OF PUTUMAYO

The Camentsa and Inga peoples of Putumayo have always been characterized by self-determination, tradition, and community. In the valley of Sibundoy, the struggle for these basic human rights has recently reached a new level. Now, they too are caught in the crossfire. Displacement due to political violence of armed groups, dire economic need, and crop fumigations is threatening to tear apart these communities and remove the inhabitants from the land which is so central a component of their culture.
One indigenous leader explained that the government sees indigenous communities as impediments to its plans for "develop-ment." Traditional communities can also be useful pawns in the schemes of outsiders. Indigenous youth are being coerced into using their knowledge of their homeland to benefit not only the armed actors, but also the multinational pharmaceutical companies who are attempting to patent medicinal herbs and plants that have been used by the Camentsa and Inga for hundreds of years.
Outside beliefs and practices are being imposed on these communities in many forms. From the Colombian state educational system to IMF-imposed economic policies, these practices are often in direct conflict with the cultural system that has helped these indigenous people survive for thousands of years.

CRISIS OF YOUTH IN THE CROSSFIRE

Putumayo's young people - who comprise 65-70% of the population, according to Sibundoy's Fundacion Cultural - face formidable obstacles to pursuing educational and economic opportunities as a direct result of the conflict and displacement experienced throughout the department.
Both guerrilla and paramilitary troops try to recruit students and teachers into their ranks, and are uninterested in alternatives to violence that education might offer. Fatima Muriel, Putumayo's Supervisor of Education, recalled an encounter with FARC troops during which they proclaimed that, in light of the war, learning to read was irrelevant and students must be trained instead to use firearms. With that perspective, Muriel explained, armed actors on both sides enter schools and terrorize students and teachers. She showed pictures of the San Carlos school in La Dorada as an example. In the aftermath of an attack, the walls were full of bullet holes, desks and chairs had been destroyed, and large portions of the school had been burned to the ground. Muriel reported that 125 of Putumayo's teachers have been assassinated and 360 displaced due to the conflict.
While the armed conflict itself directly affects the lives of youth, displacement caused by the violence and the lack of economic opportunity has equally negative effects. Muriel described the logistical difficulties that arise from relocating displaced students. She also noted that displaced children suffer from trauma and hunger which further hinder their academic performance. For young people just beyond school age, displacement exacerbates their lack of economic opportunity.
Fatima Muriel supports an accord declaring schools neutral territories, protected from the armed actors engaged in the conflict. In addition, Fundacion Cultural members proposed that aid models consider the importance of fostering self-government among young people by supporting initiatives proposed and organized by Sibundoy's citizens, rather than by outsiders.

Given the wealth of local ideas to resolve the crisis facing the region's youth, the international community could effect positive, lasting changes by devoting more energy to supporting and protecting local initiatives.

AERIAL FUMIGATIONS

Exacerbating the conditions described above, three intensive rounds of aerial fumigation with glyphosphate, popularly known in the U.S. as 'Roundup,' have been applied over the coca crops of lower Putumayo since November 2000. This broad spectrum herbi-cide, manufactured by Monsanto, is mixed with cosmoflux, a surfactant used to intensify the penetrating effects of the fumigations. Fumigations are a central feature of Plan Colombia.
The indiscriminate nature of these applications has caused a social and ecological disaster in the region since their incep-tion. Campesinos faced with starvation are forced off their land as food crops, livestock, fish ponds, and potable water sources are destroyed. Ironically, alternative agriculture projects funded by Plan Colombia have likewise been destroyed. Studies document a spectacular rise in health complaints related to the aerial fumigations, including skin rashes and diarrhea. These health problems have an inordinately greater effect on children.
A significant segment of the political and religious leadership of the region, including the Governor; mayors; congressional respresentatives; and the local Catholic Bishop, fully supported by the National Conference of Catholic Bishops; have publicly denounced the sprayings. The Bishop of Sibundoy describes the situation: "Fumigation is not the right way to confront the problem of coca.... To combat this problem of coca with an indiscriminate assault on innocents is no solution. The remedy is worse than the problem."
Understandably, poor campesinos have turned to coca in search of income. Throughout our time in Colombia, we heard again and again that if the United States wants to reduce the cultivation of coca, it must address the situation of the high demand in the U.S. that creates price incentives for poor farmers. U.S. policy must also address the economic realities that make other crops unattractive, especially in competition with subsidized U.S. agricultural imports now entering tariff-free under ATPA.
Commenting on the irony of fumigating farmers while consequently undermining their livelihoods through liberalized trade agreements, one economist offered this solution: "Buy our agricultural products at fair prices and you'll have your answer to the problem of coca."

DISPLACEMENT

Displacement of innocent people from their homes and land is a story we heard countless times while traveling in Putumayo. Reported numbers of displaced people vary with the sources. Out of 369,000 citizens in Putumayo, the Colombian army acknowledges 15,000 displaced people. The Social Solidarity Network, a state agency, recognizes 18,000 and the National Campesino Association estimates up to 50,000 people are displaced.
Displacement is typically attributed to the armed conflict, the fumigations, and the lack of social and economic support. However, in Upper Putumayo, where the most recent displacements have occurred, coca is not grown, there are no fumigations, and people have been successfully sustaining themselves off the land for years. Nonetheless, armed conflict is now displacing people from this land as well. Few people can explain why. The most reasoned explanations we heard included a multinational corporation's interest in local land and resources, and the paramilitaries' hope for a bargaining position in peace talks with the government.
Through our meetings and conversations with indigenous groups, campesino organizations, the Catholic Diocese, and displaced people, we came to understand how state neglect of this issue has only perpetuated the conflict. De-escalation of the conflict and consequent increases in social assistance are necessary to break the cycle of violence and create alternatives to economic dependence upon the cultivation of illicit crops. Plan Colombia accomplishes neither of these goals; meanwhile, the conflict rages on, poverty spreads, and displacement continues to fray both the social fabric and the community networks necessary to support alternatives and resist violence.

THE MASS FOR PEACE

A powerful Mass for Peace brought together aspects of each issue keeping Putumayo in the crossfire. After a meeting with displaced people in Sibundoy, families and delegates processed to the cathedral together, white peace flags in hand, seized by a palpable fear due to recent invasions by both paramilitaries and guerrillas which had left 20 families displaced from their homes.
Despite intense and realistic fear, the people of Sibundoy were ready to stand up and break the silence, to call for an end to the violence, and to reclaim the lands from which they are being displaced. Although the service took place at 10 o'clock on a Wednesday morning, in the middle of a work day, more than eight hundred people crowded into the beautiful cathedral to attend the Mass for Peace, organized by local priests in less than a week. An estimated 37,000 more residents of the valley listened to the mass as it was broadcast on local radio stations. People filled the pews and the aisles.
The words "SEMBREMOS PAZ" (Let Us Plant Peace) hung in white letters over the altar, where the Bishop of the Catholic Diocese and priests from across the region stood in their white robes. Witness for Peace delegates felt honored to be attending an historical event. This was the first time the community of Sibundoy had held an open forum to address the violence. Threats from armed actors on all sides had previously kept them silent.
Midway through the service, an older women wrapped in a wool blanket in the front row of the church began weeping and shaking. "They killed my two sons," she explained, "and this is the first time I've cried."
We prayed for peace together, we took communion, and courageous speakers took the pulpit to give voice to the voice-less. The mayor and a congressperson from Sibundoy called for peace and reaffirmed support for education. The priests offered messages of hope and resistance from the biblical prophets and the gospels. Our delegation contributed three speakers: Gail Phares, Co-founder of Witness for Peace; Phillip Cryan, WFP International Team Member; and Greg Pehrson, delegate. They spoke of non-violence, spirituality, and faith. They assured their listeners of international solidarity.
At the most intense moment, a campesino leader, in a voice that shook the cathedral, directly addressed the armed actors, "We know you are here. We know you are listening. We have a message for you. Leave our land. We want this to be a place of peace." The danger in which these people placed themselves to denounce the atrocities of the conflict provide a rich example of Gail Phares' reminder that people of conscience "must be willing to take the same risks for peace that others take for war."

MEDELLIN VISIT

There are immediate telltale signs that Colombia's civil conflict has reached the streets of Medellín, Colombia's indus-trial hub. Motorcyclists wear nylon vests with a license number on the back and front, a requirement due to the high number of two-wheeled assassins. On virtually every corner, police in green combat uniforms shoulder semi-automatic weapons. Graffiti claiming that President Alvaro Uribe is a "Paraco" -- a member of a paramilitary -- is not uncommon. At the same time, the exciting pace of this beautiful cosmopolitan city of 2 million is exemplified by its flocks of fuel-efficient taxis and elaborately decorated, meticulously polished city buses with shiny chrome and bright colors like proud peacocks.
Violence is woven into the social fabric of this city. Once known as the base for Colombia's most powerful drug cartel, it now represents the urbanization of the armed conflict, the volatility of Colombia's labor unrest, and the failure of social programs to deal with issues such as poverty and displacement.
The city of Medellín, surrounded by mountains, is divided into 16 districts or "communes." Impressive office towers, wealthy neighborhoods, shops, businesses, restaurants, and museums sit in the lower valley. The picture is different in areas of the city where Colombia's most disenfranchised people, displaced from their lands and homes, have come to look for shelter and work. The poorest areas are dense collections of shanties that sit precipitously on the steep mountainsides at the outskirts of the city. In Medellín, we visited with a displaced community, labor organizers, women's groups, and peace activists.

DISPLACED POPULATIONS CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE

Many of the displaced Colombians our delegation visited in Medellín were originally from northern regions of the department of Antioquia, of which Medellín is the capital. They also came from the coastal department of Choco. Their communities of origin had been caught in the crossfire between armed groups as guerrillas and paramilitaries battled to establish power bases, gain control of drug and arms trafficking routes, and in some cases, make way for investment interests of multinational corporations. Coastal areas of Colombia have great geopolitical significance as a gateway to the Pacific, the Caribbean, and Central America. In addition, the region is blessed with fertile agricultural lands and rich natural resources like coal and oil.
Displacement offers little respite from violence. As the civil conflict reaches urban areas, displaced people find that they are still in the crossfire. In the last few years, armed actors have increased their presence in Medellín, especially in poorer areas where state presence has been almost non-existent.
Neighborhoods once controlled by local gangs, independent militias, and others connected to the drug trade in the late 1980s and early 90s are now under siege by the more organized and stronger illegal armed actors. According to the Washington Post, the logistical, financial, and intelligence operations of the FARC have critical roots in Medellín and other urban centers. The guerrillas, including the ELN, rely on their urban networks to facilitate kidnappings, arrange arms shipments, and collect profits from the drug trade.
The AUC has rolled back gains made by the guerrillas in recent years. Colombian officials say that the paramilitary group controls an estimated 70% of Medellín's communes. According to the Post, although the AUC is outlawed, it often works alongside the government security forces in an "undeclared alliance."

URBAN MILITARY CAMPAIGNS

Our group visited one of the contested areas in a community way up in the hills above Medellín. As in Toni Morrison's novel Sula, the disenfranchised poor here live above those who have more wealth. With a name as paradoxical as Sula's "Bottom," this neighborhood of tin-roof houses amidst dusty, steep, uneven dirt roads is called "La Onda," or "The Wave." The people, many displaced from their lands far north of Medellín, were bracing themselves for more upheaval when we arrived.
Ten days prior to our visit the Colombian Army and the Metropolitan Police had launched a joint operation against La Onda and other adjacent neighborhoods which make up the district of Medellín known as Commune 3. The joint operation, officially called Star Six, was part of a recent wave of military operations in Medellín ostensibly aimed at illegal armed groups. However, community leaders told us that these operations are targeting community organizers and activists, not just guerrillas or paramilitaries. In La Onda, men in hoods - "capuchados" - accompanied police and soldiers as they kicked down doors at 2:00 a.m. on January 13, 2003. The hooded men, carrying flashlights, then fingered the community's leaders who were dragged out of their homes, thrown to the ground, tied up, and taken away, according to eyewitnesses who recounted the events to us.
Were there any guerrillas in their community, as the police and military claimed? No, say the families of La Onda. In fact, a presentation later shown to us by the chief of Medellín's Metropolitan Police Department, General Leonardo Gallego, showed that the total number of firearms confiscated in Commune 3 that night was a scant two, and the number of bullets was less than fifty. Hardly a hotbed of clandestine guerrilla activity, Commune 3 lost 68 community leaders that night, including their president, Alfredo Mejia. What was their crime?
When our bus arrived -- it was our very first stop in Medellín - the sounds of happy, energetic children filled the air and we were greeted with curious faces pressed against every window of the yellow and blue brick school, as teachers tried in vain to restore order to their classrooms. We made our way up a hill, past the school - by far the sturdiest of the community's structures - to a concrete area the size of a basketball court where two men were making a cross with wooden beams.
People from the community started to assemble until there were over one hundred gathered around us on the court. The appointed speakers told us about the night the police and army raided Commune 3. The speakers asked for permanent international presence to insure greater protection and to inform the world, should more violence descend on their community. As innocent kids with big smiles on their smudged faces played among us, we found ourselves pondering the right of children to be preoccupied with carefree playtime games - without having to think about raids in the middle of the night, visits from death squads, or haunting images of "capuchados."
The people of Commune 3 knew what the future held for them. A similar pattern had already played itself out in another district, Commune 13. The police and military had launched a series of operations there in the fall of 2002, Operations Orion and Mariscal. Armed groups -- both guerrillas and paramilitaries -- had been fighting for control of the neighborhoods in that district. General Gallego showed our delegation professionally produced videos and power point presentations that depicted a glowing success "for the forces of peace and security." He didn't mention the hooded informants who fingered community leaders and peace activists.
What happened when the operations were completed in Commune 13? According to current residents of Commune 13 who spoke to us later at our hotel, there was a power vacuum that was quickly filled by the paramilitaries who maintain control of the area through terror, violence, and murder. One witness said that body parts have been left in the streets as reminders of the presence of the paramilitaries.
So, as we listened under the bright sun at Commune 3, we knew the speakers were putting their lives on the line. Was there someone in that crowd, induced by money, fear, or misguided loyalties, who might slide a hood over his face some night in the future, walk through kicked-down doors with police and soldiers, and point through the glare of flashlights at those who had spoken to the delegation from the United States?
As we listened we began to notice the attention of many in the crowd shifting to the mountainside above La Onda. Up high, coming down a dirt trail, were three unknown men in uniforms observing us from above. They were too far away for anyone to be able to identify which armed group they might represent.

Our meeting was called to a halt as we followed the security advice of our hosts and made our way back to our bus, but not without promising the community that we would do our best to tell their story in the United States. By the time we left, the wooden cross the two men had been working on when we arrived stood in front of a building on the other side of the school. Further down the mountainside we lingered as long as we could, continuing our interviews amidst the makeshift wood shacks.
Our promise to tell the story in the U.S. was crucial because the U.S. shares responsibility for military crackdowns on community leaders and the subsequent paramilitary violence. General Gallego, dressed in army green fatigues, guns in holsters on each hip, confirmed that U.S. money from Plan Colombia was partially supporting his department's operations. The General and others in his department had received military training from the United States. Furthermore, President Uribe has political support from Washington -- indeed, political pressure - to pursue military solutions to the conflict, even in urban areas. Hence, there are increasing instances of the types of strong-arm tactics for which Uribe became known when he was governor of Antioquia, allegedly giving tacit support to the paramilitaries.
General Gallego is leading a pilot project to conduct urban warfare under the direction of President Uribe. Delegation members familiar with U.S. military assistance and training in Central America recognized parallels between Medellín Operations Star Six, Orion, and Mariscal and the low-intensity warfare and counter-insurgency tactics carried out against civilian populations in Guatemala, El Salvador, and Nicaragua.

AN ENDANGERED LABOR MOVEMENT

On another front of the war, which may be termed a war against civil society, union organizers are struggling for the survival of the trade union movement in Colombia. Defending labor rights is referred to as "the most dangerous job in Colombia." In the last ten years 1700 union members have been murdered. Four out of every five union leaders assassinated in the world are Colombian. Perhaps because of this violence, unions represent only 5% of the official labor force. The official unemployment rate in Medellín is about 15%. Many people find jobs in the "informal" sector (as street vendors, domestic workers, and participants in the black market, etc.) - a vast pool accounting for over half of total employment in Medellín.
At the National Union School in Medellín, we learned about deep anti-union currents in Colombian society. Armed groups --particularly paramilitaries or private security forces paid by corporations - disrupt union activity through intimidation, threats, and murder. Hence union organizing is very risky here, and scores of targeted labor organizers must live in hiding.
This information was confirmed to us in our later meetings in Bogotá with leaders from the National Union Institute and SINALTRAINAL, whose union members in Coca-Cola plants have been subjected to firings, death threats, and assassinations.
According to the National Union School, there are plenty of reasons for workers to organize including high unemployment, low wages, widespread poverty, privatization that erodes public jobs, and the IMF's structural adjustment program that has gutted social services and fostered a climate where multinational corporations benefit from low labor costs. Men and women are dying in Colombia for their efforts to change these realities.

WOMEN ENVISIONING ALTERNATIVES

According to many accounts, the high level of violence disproportionately affects women and children. Ligia Alzate, Secretary General of The Central Unity of Workers (CUT) in Antioquia, proudly told us of her involvement in a network of women's groups that organized a Women's Emancipatory Conference in November, 2002. The CUT sent labor delegates to this historic assembly of 300 women that created a national agenda to present to Colombia's Congress. Their platform demands 1) Women's full participation in the political process and in peace negotiations; 2) Respect for international humanitarian law, including civilian rights as non-combatants; 3) Economic reforms, including reform of IMF-imposed policies that harm women, special consideration in negotiated trade deals for products women produce, and defense of economic rights in multinational investment deals; 4) Tax reforms that consider the special needs of women; and 5) Respect for gender rights such as sexual and reproductive freedom.
The impact of the war is so clearly felt by the nation's women that peace movements often find their origins in women's leadership. The difficulty of this work, however, is illustrated by the frequency with which the movement's leaders are detained by authorities. Ruta Pacifica (Peaceful Path) is a women's peace initiative that started in Medellín in 1996. It has grown into a movement involving more than 3,000 active women representing eight regions. Our meeting with seven members of Ruta Pacifica was held in a hotel conference room because it would be "unsafe" to meet with them in Commune 13 where they live.
María del Pilar Cordoba tells us that Ruta Pacifica exists to create awareness of how the war affects women and children. For example, few seem to understand how rape, mutilation, and other grossly underreported abuses of women's bodies are tactics of warfare in Colombia. So Ruta Pacifica employs a strategy of creative public mobilizations that make visible the war's effects on women. Ruta Pacifica mobilized 40,000 people in July 2002 to send a "NO WAR" message to President-elect Uribe before he was to take office in August.
Proclaiming that "from our hands and our wombs, nothing will come forth that contributes to war," poet Piedad Morales explains that not only does the movement develop political proposals for nonviolent solutions that might break the cycle of conflict, it also finds creative ways to symbolize women's resistance and to recover historical memory.
Some of the other women belong to a related movement, born in Commune 13, called Association of Women of the Independences (AMI). Seventy percent of its members have been displaced by the violence. The goals of AMI focus on personal growth and income improvement for its members. Three leaders of AMI are facing government charges of "terrorism and theft." They were arrested during Operation Orion, due to fabricated rumors that they traffic in arms. But thanks to the efforts of Ruta Pacifica, they are no longer incarcerated as they await trial.
One of these women defines the importance of our brief encounter: "Thank you for listening to us," she explains. "To remember all that we've endured, to remember the confrontations and the moments when we had to hide under the bed and live in the midst of bullets makes us very sad. But the power of knowing that other people listen to us relieves our pain and heals our souls."
Our delegation left Medellín, just as the delegates had left Soacha and Putumayo, knowing that listening would not be enough. Below are our recommendations for policy change.

U.S. POLICY RECOMMENDATIONS

U.S. policy toward Colombia has received scant attention from the media since September 11, 2001, but the Bush Administration's Colombia policy has not remained static. The United States government has embarked on a dangerous path that endorses a military solution to the conflict as part of an expanded war on terrorism.
By providing the Colombian government with over $2 billion in the form of military aid over the last 5 years, resuming a counterproductive campaign of aerial fumigation of coca fields and furthering the economic exploitation of Colombia, the U.S. is only making matters worse. The Witness for Peace delegation repeatedly heard during its visit to Colombia that U.S. policy is "like throwing gasoline on a fire." Despite these dire warnings, there has been little public debate or congressional scrutiny as U.S. involvement continues to expand in Colombia.
In 2002 Congress quietly authorized a number of changes in U.S. aid to Colombia that broadened the purpose and scope of lethal assistance, which for years had been limited to counter-narcotics, to include "counter-terrorism." For example, some changes will allow U.S. military aid to be used to hunt insurgent leaders deemed to be enemies of the Colombian state, and to train thousands of Colombian soldiers to guard an oil pipeline. Other changes will weaken conditions placed on human rights violations, aerial fumigation spraying, and alternative development. As a result, Colombia's civil society will likely suffer greatly in the coming years, thereby exacerbating the underlying socio-economic factors of the conflict.

Because the Bush Administration has apparently set a course focused on an expanding and indefinite military commitment, U.S. policy toward Colombia is at a critical juncture and must be reoriented. In order to achieve true peace and security, decreased drug production, and sustainable economic development, the Witness for Peace delegation recommends the following changes to U.S. policy in Colombia:

1) Suspend U.S. military aid and redirect economic assistance to help Colombia's civil society. Over 75 percent of the U.S. foreign aid Colombia will receive in Fiscal Year 2003 will be directed towards the military and police. In contrast, only a small portion of U.S. aid has helped coca growers switch to legal crops, offered emergency assistance for people displaced by the conflict, aided judicial reform, provided protection for governmental and non-governmental human rights workers, and assisted demobilized child combatants. President Bush's proposed 2004 budget further increases military aid at the expense of economic aid.

U.S. policy must recognize that "security" is not defined in purely military terms. Rather, achieving "peace" entails a substantial economic investment that addresses the socio-economic roots of the conflict. A widespread but misguided belief is that economic aid can only follow a situation in which the military has asserted control. In Colombia, efforts to address the root causes of the conflict cannot wait until some future moment when an undefined notion of "security" has been achieved militarily.

2) Ensure greater transparency and accountability for economic assistance. Countless people directly affected by U.S. military programs have not been reached by the economic aid that was supposed to accompany Plan Colombia. In many cases social and economic assistance has been mismanaged, misallocated, or not spent at all. The U.S. should encourage the Colombian government to follow the lead of governors and mayors, campesino organizations, indigenous groups, and others who understand their communities' challenges and needs.

3) Seek multilateral participation in assistance programs and conflict resolution/peacekeeping efforts. Providing economic aid to Colombia should require more than bilateral assistance from the United States. However, most European donors, along with Colombia's neighbors, have distanced themselves from the U.S. military-dominated strategy. The European Union and other donors must be brought into the design and implementation of a common, coordinated assistance effort. In addition, the U.S. should initiate multilateral efforts to broker a ceasefire and seek a negotiated settlement.

4) Make the protection and strengthening of human rights a central focus of U.S. policy and a condition of U.S. aid. Human rights conditions must be central to all U.S. aid at a time when violations are so widespread. Human rights conditions should also be seen as a useful tool for encouraging action against paramilitary groups and for supporting threatened human rights defenders, union leaders, journalists, and other non-violent actors.

5) Abandon aerial fumigation spraying in favor of an eradication strategy that promotes sustainable economic development. The U.S. and Colombian governments are presently committed to expanding an aerial fumigation program that has caused massive humanitarian and environmental harm. Instead, emergency food assistance and financial compensation should be given to small producers whose means of subsistence has been destroyed. The U.S. should promote alternative development strategies and provide financial support to implement crop substitution plans in local communities.
6) Invest more on drug treatment and harm reduction strategies. Studies have demonstrated that increasing addicts' access to treatment programs at home is more cost-effective and successful in reducing drug production than interdiction and eradication abroad. A significant reduction in demand from the U.S. would mean much less money for guerrilla and paramilitary weapons and abuses.

7) Negotiate trade agreements that foster the ability of small farmers and small businesses to compete fairly in the global marketplace, and that protect the rights of workers. U.S. policy must recognize that many sectors in Colombia have been adversely affected by liberalized trade agreements. Trade agreements such as the Andean Trade Preferences Agreement have disproportionately affected the poor and working population in Colombia. The Free Trade Agreement of the Americas scheduled for implementation in 2005 would exacerbate existing income disparities in Colombia. Finally, IMF Structural Adjustment programs for Colombia have required the government to restrict the already minuscule portion of the budget it devotes to social spending. These policies are worsening the problems at the root of the Colombian conflict.

8) Pressure the Colombian government to enact political and social reforms. Many important reforms codified in the Constitutional Agreement of 1991 have not been fully implemented by the Colombian government. For example, ethnic minorities and labor unions have not received certain protections guaranteed by the new Constitution. The U.S. should also discourage the Colombian government from pursuing draconian new laws, such as President Uribe's "Democratic Security" plan, that will have a negative impact on civil society.

9) Enact policies that lessen U.S. dependence on foreign oil. U.S. energy policy should foster energy independence through conservation, required increases in efficiency, and targeted incentives toward the development of sustainable alternatives. A sustainable energy policy is an essential component of a forward-thinking approach that recognizes the adverse effects of the U.S. thirst for the oil resources of other nations.

Writers and Editors:

Rick Axtell, Associate Professor of Religion, Centre College
Phillip Babich, Managing Producer, National Radio Project
Andrew Barwig, Legislative Aide, Representative Mel Watt
Megan Hartman, Carleton College
Bill Watson, Freelance Journalist

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