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This article is part of a series about racism in Colombia. Read more.

“I can’t believe what you say, because I see what you do.”

James Baldwin

Of course, racism is very much alive in Colombia.  To know of its reality in Colombia, do not ask white Colombians who make up 37% of the population, or the mestizo population which is birthed out of intermarriages among Amerindian,  enslaved African, and European descendants, and forms the majority of Colombia’s population at approximately 50%. The problem with this group of people, for the most part, like everywhere else in Latin America, tends to view itself as white. And most of the overt racism Black and Indigenous Colombians face emerges out of the mestizo population because they tend to live in close proximity with the former, although white Colombians are the architect of the systematic racism most Black, Indigenous and mestizo people face in Colombia.

For people to authentically understand the reality of racism in Colombia, they need to ask the Indigenous minority, which is only 4.3 %, and the Black/Afro-Colombian community who make up 6.8% of the population. Because sometimes marginality works in pairs, in Colombia, where there is a marginalization of Afro-Colombians, there is also the marginalization of the Indigenous population. And it is not by accident that these racialized groups live on the peripherals of Colombia. This systematic exclusion and marginalization is largely by design, formulated and implemented by years of segregation in the name territorial independence.

I lived and served with Mennonite Central Committee in Colombia for two years.  I lived in the Pacific Department of Chocó. It is predominantly an Afro-Colombian department, with Afro-Colombians making up 82.1% of the population, followed by the Indigenous population at 12.7%, and the mestizo population at 5.2 % and a few white Colombians. The department is naturally endowed with economic and mineral resources such as gold and platinum, Choco and Antioquia department being the main producers of gold in Colombia according to the 2017 data from the Colombia Mining Information System (this according to Lara-Rodríguez 2018). If you want to see how racism manifests itself, you have to look at Chocó and other predominantly Afro-Colombian departments such as Cauca, Valle del Cauca, or Bolivar. These departments over the years have struggled with economic poverty conditions, with the Chocó Department at the lowest of the economic poverty ladder. These economic challenges are exacerbated by the presence of armed groups led by leftist guerrilla groups, including the National Liberation Army (ELN) and right-wing paramilitary groups who are interested in controlling the drug trade and arms trafficking on the Atrato River in the region. There are also other visible forms of violence, including large-scale corporate mining (gold and platinum) carried out by Canadian, US, and Brazilian companies, and illegal mining by armed groups according to the locals and ethnographic studies done by Lara-Rodríguez [2008]. In short, Chocó has suffered not just systematic racism at the hands of the Colombian state, controlled by both white and mestizo Colombians, but also the brunt of neoliberalism development for years, according to Nuñez Ciceros [2016] as the country seeks to fit into the North American and European definition of development and/or committing to “advancing the white race”, as some people from Central and South America would say.

We may wonder how can a department so rich in gold, platinum, and natural diversity remains so chronically poor? Why does the department lack access to running drinking water, good quality infra-structures such as hospitals, roads, and public schools? To me, it is a matter of priority, love, and recognition of the full dignity of Black and Indigenous Colombians. And I was obsessed with this recognition for most of my time living and accompanying peacebuilding processes in Chocó.

When I lived in Chocó, for example, the rural communities where I lived experienced disastrous floods due to heavy rains, and shallow rivers (due to the impact of large scale illegal and legal mining). And public schools along the river got heavily impacted, and the Colombian state was unbothered by Black and Indigenous children missing access to education for the next months. The under-resourced teachers had to figure out to teach in absence of classrooms, and scholastic materials. In fact, teachers had to dry out wet books under direct sunlight so that they may be able to use then in the next class session. Meanwhile, the rich white or mestizo kids in Bogota continued with their education with almost zero disturbance except the occasional national teacher strikes, which are quite rampant in Colombia. The point is the Colombian state is just as racist as the US state towards Black and Indigenous people. 

White North Americans love Colombia as tourist or humanitarian work destination, but many are very uncomfortable when it comes to talking about the reality of racism embedded in the discriminatory systems of governance. From the political chambers in Bogota to education, health, agricultural, and/or trade institutions, the indigenous and Afro-Colombia populations are very much left behind. Representation is only made by way of tokenism within some sectors. When I first expressed my observation of racism in Colombia I felt like an ungrateful lone wolf to my MCC peers. I felt unheard, and I felt silenced by some of my white counterparts.

As Black Lives Matter events hit the streets of the United States and beyond, Colombia has to yet to reckon with its decades of racism towards Afro-Colombians and Indigenous Colombians. And Afro-Colombians on social media are already declaring that they too have their own #georgefloyds as reported in the Bogota Post. With that, I did not want to largely center my voice alone here. This is why I reached out to my Colombian sister, Rosario De Santos (not the real name for privacy) who is older in age, and she prefers that I refer to her as a mother (and I do call her mother), to tell her view of racism in Colombia and how she has experienced it. Here is her brief story:

“Well, as for racism, I tell you: in Chocó there is racism, even if you don’t believe it. Before, schools and seminars were not for Blacks, especially Blacks like you and me, the clearest Blacks (they had a little more than acceptance).

Today we continue to see racism not as strong (overt) but yes, if you look at those who work in banks, and some state entities are not “so black”. When you (referring to me) were here, you could see it, right?  In my particular case, I was a victim of racism in Cali and Bucaramanga when I studied there. In Bucaramanga, I had to discipline an unfortunate person who, as soon as I got to the classroom, started to call me “monkey”, and he made fun of me in the middle of class. I hit him hard on his head, unto the desk, and the most amazing thing that the teacher did not move where I was. Although today I thank God and the teacher because he allowed me to get that pleasure, I gave that unfortunate person what he deserved. In another incident, in Cali, Valle del Cauca, when I went to get my ID, the photographer also called me “good monkey.” The photographer would say, “monkey, look at this point…” And I had that resentment because I couldn’t do anything more because of the many vulgar/racist words that came out at me in Cali, Bucaramanga, and Barranquilla. That resentment has gone over time. But the Colombian state is the ultimate racist, socially, politically, and economically. It does not invest in Black people or the Chocoano land.”

These racist indignities are currently magnified by the presence of COVID-19 as is the case in North America. In what follows is the post made by Rosario De Santos about the continued Colombian state abandonment of Chocó in the name of corruption. She said:

“Chocó Deserves Better Luck:

The Caracol [television] channel is mounting a special that in my opinion fell short in terms of the situation of the department since it dedicated itself to calling us some beggars and others corrupt. There is an underlying Machiavellian language that aims to minimize us as individuals. While it is true that we have deficiencies and shortcomings, it is also true that the State has condemned us to suffer for what there was and for what there is. I ask: if there is corruption, where is the control of state agencies to stop this behavior? Could it be that from the interior of the country is where the distribution of the cake begins?

Does the government want to get rid of the responsibility for state abandonment?

If we Chocoanos are corrupt, why do we see the same abandonment in all the territories where Blacks and Indigenous people are settled?

I think it is state discrimination and that it does not let us breathe.

Please, let us BREATHE!

The Quibdó-Medellín highway has been under construction for more than 100 years, how long has the Via del Sol been?

The other departments have a terrestrial connection with almost all of their municipalities and with roads in very good condition. In Chocó, how many municipalities connect to the Capital?

Third level hospital, can it be built and endowed by a mayor or governor? Did Bogota allocate the money for that and the Chocoanos stole it?

And so there are many unanswered questions that many of us ask ourselves and the same should be asked. It is not fair that the department, the little investment it has from the State, is the product of the strikes, of the social struggles, and that we now appear as the most corrupt when the most corrupt leaders are in Bogotá, it is fallen.”

To Colombians who deny the existence of racism in Colombia, in the words of the late American author James Baldwin, “I can’t believe what you say, because I see what you do.” To truly observe systematic racism in Colombia, you have to see who occupies, works, and gains from, for instance, the education, health, agriculture, tourism, banking, businesses, police, and the criminal justice system. You also have to look at who dies disproportionately at the hands of the Colombian police force.


Ndagire Brendah lived and served with MCC Colombia for two years in Chocó, Colombia, where she accompanied peacebuilding processes lead by the local Mennonite Brethren Church. She is currently a graduate student of Peace and Conflict at the University of Waterloo’s  Conrad Grebel  University College, focusing primarily on the reality and/or role of women at the grassroots level in peacebuilding.

Header photo: Chocoanos participating in a peaceful protest against systematic state abandonment in May 2017

References:

Lara-Rodríguez,  Juan Sebastian. “All that glitters is not gold or platinum: Institutions and the use of mercury in mining in Chocó, Colombia”, The extractive industry society, Department of Science and Technology Policy, Institute of Geosciences, University of Campinas5 (2018):  308-318.

Nuñez  Ciceros, Carolina. “Social Impact of  Coca Crops in Colombia: From Socio-territorial processes to new social configurations: The role of land tenure, armed conflict, environment and coca crops”, Department of Human Geography,  Stockholm University: 2016.

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