Adults ran with children in their arms, sprinting toward shelter before the shooting resumed.
En las montañas del sur de Bolívar, Colombia, dos organizaciones armadas —el Clan del Golfo y el ELN— se disputan el control de rutas de narcotráfico y minería ilegal, convirtiendo comunidades rurales en escenarios de guerra. A finales de noviembre de 2023, más de 1.400 personas abandonaron sus hogares en cuestión de días, mientras el Estado colombiano intentaba, al mismo tiempo, negociar la paz con uno de los grupos beligerantes. Este episodio revela una tensión antigua y sin resolver: la distancia entre las instituciones y los territorios donde el poder armado lleva décadas siendo la única ley.
- Cuatro municipios del sur de Bolívar quedaron atrapados entre el fuego cruzado de dos organizaciones criminales que se disputan cocaína, oro y rutas estratégicas.
- 556 familias huyeron en cuestión de horas: videos en redes sociales mostraron a niños corriendo bajo el sonido de explosiones y disparos desde las colinas boscosas.
- Las fuerzas militares capturaron cuatro integrantes del Clan del Golfo y destruyeron campamentos, laboratorios de coca y decenas de artefactos explosivos, pero la presencia estatal en la zona sigue siendo precaria.
- El gobierno convocó un consejo de seguridad y anunció el despliegue de fuerzas especiales, mientras la Defensoría del Pueblo declaró la situación una crisis humanitaria y una violación de derechos fundamentales.
- La crisis llega en el peor momento diplomático: las delegaciones del gobierno y el ELN se preparaban para retomar negociaciones de paz apenas días después, complicando una agenda de diálogo ya fragilizada por el secuestro del padre del futbolista Luis Díaz.
En las tierras altas de San Lucas, al sur del departamento de Bolívar, el Clan del Golfo y el Ejército de Liberación Nacional llevan semanas enfrentados por el control de economías ilegales: tráfico de cocaína y minería ilícita. A finales de noviembre de 2023, ese conflicto dejó de ser un asunto entre grupos armados para convertirse en una catástrofe para las comunidades que habitan esos territorios.
Familias de Santa Rosa del Sur, Arenal, Morales y Montecristo huyeron hacia La Y de San Luquitas, un punto de refugio en el sur del departamento. La Defensoría del Pueblo documentó el desplazamiento de 556 familias —más de 1.400 personas— y declaró la situación una crisis humanitaria. Los videos que circularon en redes sociales mostraron la dimensión del pánico: niños y adultos paralizados frente a sus casas mientras los disparos llegaban desde los cerros, familias subiendo a camionetas en medio del caos, un bebé llorando al sonido de explosiones cercanas, adultos corriendo con sus hijos en brazos durante una pausa en el tiroteo.
Las fuerzas militares respondieron capturando cuatro integrantes del Clan del Golfo, destruyendo veintiún artefactos explosivos, cuatro campamentos y cinco laboratorios de procesamiento de coca. Pero la presencia del Estado en estas zonas rurales sigue siendo escasa, y la violencia prospera precisamente en ese vacío.
El gobierno convocó un consejo de seguridad y anunció el despliegue de fuerzas especiales. Sin embargo, la crisis llegó en un momento de particular complejidad política: apenas días después, delegaciones del gobierno y el ELN debían retomar negociaciones de paz suspendidas tras el secuestro del padre del futbolista Luis Díaz. La paradoja era evidente —el Estado intentaba dialogar con uno de los grupos que, al mismo tiempo, combatía en las montañas— y revelaba la naturaleza fragmentada de un conflicto donde múltiples actores armados coexisten, se enfrentan entre sí y negocian con el gobierno, todos enraizados en los mismos territorios abandonados.
In the southern reaches of Bolívar department, in a region known as the San Lucas highlands, two armed groups have turned rural communities into a war zone. The Clan del Golfo—also called the Gaitanista Self-Defense Forces—and the National Liberation Army, or ELN, have been locked in combat over territory and the illicit economies that sustain them: cocaine trafficking and illegal mining. By late November 2023, the violence had forced more than 1,400 people from their homes.
The displacement happened fast. Families from four municipalities—Santa Rosa del Sur, Arenal, Morales, and Montecristo—fled toward a place called La Y de San Luquitas, a refuge point in the southern part of the department. The Ombudsman's office, Colombia's human rights defender, documented that 556 families had abandoned their homes by Saturday of that week. The office declared the situation a humanitarian crisis and a violation of civilians' fundamental rights to safety and life.
The videos that circulated on social media showed the texture of the panic. In one clip, families crowded outside their houses while rifle fire crackled from the forested hills beyond. Children, teenagers, women, and men stood frozen, waiting. In another, adults loaded children into pickup trucks in the chaos of the moment. A third recording captured the sound of explosions closer still, a baby crying, a man's voice urging people down a set of stairs to cross an open field that looked like a dirt sports court. When the gunfire paused, adults ran with their children in their arms, sprinting toward shelter before the shooting resumed. The Ombudsman's office described the atmosphere in the affected towns as one of fear and dread.
The fighting itself was heavy. Military forces reported capturing four members of the Clan del Golfo. They destroyed twenty-one explosive devices, four armed camps, and five laboratories where coca paste was processed. They seized weapons, supplies, and communications equipment. But the presence of the state in these rural areas remains thin. The violence stems from competition between the two groups for control of drug trafficking routes and illegal mining operations—the economic engines that sustain armed power in regions where government authority is weak.
The government responded by convening a security council and announcing that special forces would be deployed to retake control of the zone. But the timing complicated matters. Even as families were fleeing gunfire, delegations from the government and the ELN were preparing to restart peace negotiations the following Thursday. Those talks had been suspended after the kidnapping of the father of Colombian footballer Luis Díaz, a case that had strained relations between Bogotá and the guerrilla group. Now, as one armed faction fought another in the highlands, the government was trying to negotiate with one of them—a contradiction that underscored the fractured nature of Colombia's conflict, where multiple armed actors operate in parallel, some fighting each other, some talking to the state, all of them rooted in the same soil.
Notable Quotes
The situation represents a humanitarian crisis and violation of the human rights of the civilian population— Colombia's Ombudsman's office
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does the Clan del Golfo and the ELN care so much about this particular region?
It's not about the land itself. It's about what the land produces and what moves through it. Cocaine and illegal gold. Control the territory, you control the supply chain and the money. That's what they're fighting over.
And the government knows this is happening?
Yes. The Ombudsman's office documented it, the military reported operations, there were security council meetings. But knowing and being able to stop it are different things. The state's presence in the San Lucas highlands is minimal. These are rural areas where armed groups have more power than police or soldiers.
So what happens to the 1,400 people who fled?
They're in a refuge zone for now. But they've lost their homes, their land, their routines. Some will try to return when it's safe. Others won't. Displacement like this leaves scars—trauma, economic loss, fractured communities.
The government is trying to negotiate with the ELN at the same time this is happening. Doesn't that seem contradictory?
It is. The ELN is one of the groups involved in the fighting. So the government is simultaneously trying to kill or capture them militarily while also sitting down to talk peace with them. It's the reality of Colombia's conflict—messy, contradictory, with no clear resolution.
What's the likelihood this gets resolved soon?
Low. These territorial disputes over drug routes and mining are the foundation of armed power in rural Colombia. Peace talks might reduce some violence, but they won't eliminate the economic incentives that drive groups to fight for control. The people in those four municipalities will likely remain displaced or at risk for a long time.