combat in the streets of the town itself—automatic weapons, grenades
In the Cauca region of Colombia, the ancient contest over territory took a brutal modern form as FARC dissident factions and ELN fronts fought street-level battles through populated towns, forcing thousands of civilians — among them children, pregnant women, and the elderly — to abandon their homes within the span of two days. The Red Cross and the Unit for Victims arrived not to end the conflict, but to tend to its human wreckage: food, shelter, psychosocial care, and lessons in how to survive a landscape seeded with unexploded ordnance. What unfolded in Argelia and Caloto in late March 2021 was not an aberration but a recurring condition — communities held hostage by armed groups for whom a strategic corridor is worth more than the peace of those who live along it.
- Within 48 hours, armed clashes between FARC dissidents and ELN factions turned the streets of El Plateado and Caloto into active battlegrounds, with automatic weapons, grenades, and improvised explosives fired in populated areas.
- 573 people were formally documented as displaced from Caloto alone — including 126 children, 20 pregnant women, 82 elderly, and 12 persons with disabilities — while thousands more fled across multiple municipalities with little more than what they could carry.
- A prosecutor's investigator was kidnapped in El Palo hamlet on March 26th, deepening the atmosphere of terror as armed groups framed their violence as commemoration while pursuing naked territorial control.
- Red Cross teams deployed from Popayán into the displacement zones, delivering food, hygiene supplies, psychosocial support, and critical training on recognizing unexploded ordnance left behind in the fighting.
- Despite the humanitarian response, the clashes showed no sign of stopping — the displaced remained in temporary refuge, and the strategic corridor the armed groups were fighting over remained violently contested.
The Cauca region of Colombia was convulsing. In the span of forty-eight hours, thousands of people abandoned their homes as armed groups fought for territorial control, turning the streets of ordinary towns into war zones. In Argelia, families fled El Plateado after gunfire erupted between FARC dissident faction "Carlos Patiño" and the ELN's "José María Becerra" front. In Caloto, another wave of displacement followed clashes between a FARC dissident structure and the Colombian Army. The UN's human rights office issued an alarm, warning that the violence showed no signs of stopping.
By late March 2021, the Unit for Victims had documented 573 displaced persons from Caloto alone — 126 children, 20 pregnant women, 82 elderly people, and 12 persons with disabilities. These were families who had grabbed what they could carry and fled toward churches and neighboring hamlets. The unit's director announced the distribution of emergency shelter kits to meet the most basic needs.
The Red Cross deployed teams from Popayán into El Plateado and the hamlet of Puerto Rico, bringing food, hygiene supplies, and psychosocial support for people traumatized by what they had witnessed. They also organized sessions on recognizing and avoiding unexploded ordnance — a practical necessity in a region where grenades and improvised explosives had been used in street-level combat.
Analysts described the fighting in El Plateado not as a remote rural skirmish but as combat in the streets of the town itself. The armed groups were contesting a strategic corridor used to move weapons and contraband through the department — control of that route was the prize. Meanwhile, in Caloto's El Palo hamlet, FARC dissidents had kidnapped a prosecutor's investigator on March 26th, adding another layer of dread to an already fractured region.
The humanitarian response was real but limited. Aid organizations could feed people and tend to their psychological wounds, but they could not stop the fighting or promise a swift return home. The clashes continued, the armed groups held their positions, and thousands remained in temporary refuge, waiting for a stability that seemed nowhere in sight.
The Cauca region of Colombia was convulsing. In the span of forty-eight hours, thousands of people abandoned their homes—not because of a single catastrophic event, but because the streets around them had become a war zone. Armed groups were fighting for control of territory, and civilians caught between them had only one choice: leave.
The displacement was happening across multiple municipalities. In Argelia, families fled the hamlet of El Plateado after gunfire erupted between two factions: a FARC dissident group calling itself "Carlos Patiño" and an ELN front known as "José María Becerra." In Caloto, another wave of people was moving, driven out by clashes between a different FARC dissident structure led by someone known as "Gentil Duarte" and the Colombian Army. The UN's human rights office in Colombia watched the situation unfold and issued a statement expressing alarm at the forced displacement across both municipalities, warning that the violence showed no signs of stopping.
By late March 2021, the Unit for Victims had documented 573 people displaced from the Caloto area alone. Among them were 126 children, 20 pregnant women, 82 elderly people, and 12 persons with disabilities. These were not abstract numbers—they represented families who had grabbed what they could carry and fled toward churches, toward neighboring hamlets, toward anywhere that felt safer than home. The director of the Unit for Victims in Cauca, Dan Harry Sánchez Cobo, announced that his office would distribute three emergency shelter kits to help meet the most basic needs.
The Red Cross arrived with a different kind of response. Teams from Popayán deployed to Argelia, moving into El Plateado and the nearby hamlet of Puerto Rico where other displaced families had gathered. They brought food and hygiene supplies—the immediate necessities. But they also brought something less tangible: psychosocial support for people traumatized by what they had witnessed. The Red Cross organized educational sessions on how to recognize and avoid unexploded ordnance, a practical skill in a region where armed groups had used grenades and other weapons in street-level combat.
What made the violence particularly brutal was its location. These were not remote rural skirmishes. Juan Manuel Torres, an analyst with the Foundation for Peace and Reconciliation, described what happened in El Plateado as combat in the streets of the town itself—automatic weapons, grenades, improvised explosives. People had watched their neighborhoods become battlegrounds. The armed groups were fighting over a strategic corridor, a passage that would allow them to move weapons and other contraband to other parts of the department. Control of that route was worth the bloodshed, at least to them.
Jonathan Centeno, a human rights defender and community leader, laid out the geography of the crisis for journalists: displacement in the Pacific region, in Argelia, in Caloto, and anxiety spreading to many other areas where armed groups were clashing or harassing police stations. Each municipality faced its own particular nightmare. In Caloto's El Palo hamlet, FARC dissidents had kidnapped Mario Fernando Herrera Aparicio, a prosecutor's investigator, on March 26th. The reasons remained unclear. The armed groups claimed their attacks were commemorating the death of Manuel Marulanda Vélez, the historical FARC commander, but that was justification layered over what was fundamentally a territorial war.
The humanitarian response was real but necessarily limited. The Red Cross could feed people and treat their psychological wounds. The Unit for Victims could distribute shelter kits. But neither organization could stop the fighting or guarantee that the displaced would be able to return home soon. The clashes continued, the armed groups held their positions, and thousands of people remained in temporary refuge, waiting for a stability that seemed nowhere in sight.
Citas Notables
Combat occurred in the streets of the town with automatic weapons, grenades, and improvised explosives— Juan Manuel Torres, Foundation for Peace and Reconciliation
Displacement is occurring in the Pacific region, in Argelia, in Caloto, and anxiety is spreading to many other areas where armed groups are clashing— Jonathan Centeno, human rights defender and community leader
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why were these particular groups fighting over El Plateado and that corridor?
It's about movement and money. Control of that passage lets them move weapons, drugs, and other contraband through the department without interference. For armed groups operating in remote areas, a strategic corridor is infrastructure.
And the Red Cross showing up with psychosocial support—what does that actually mean for someone who just watched their town become a battlefield?
It means trained people sitting with families, helping them process trauma, teaching them how to recognize danger. It's not going to rebuild their homes, but it acknowledges that displacement isn't just about losing shelter. It's about losing your sense of safety.
The numbers are striking—126 children among 573 displaced. How does a community absorb that kind of sudden loss?
Churches became shelters. Neighboring hamlets took people in. But absorption isn't the right word—it's more like strain. You're asking communities already fragile to suddenly house and feed hundreds of extra people with no warning.
The kidnapped prosecutor's investigator—was that connected to the territorial fighting, or something separate?
The source doesn't say. That's the unsettling part. It happened in the same region during the same period, but the motives remain unknown. It could be leverage, it could be retaliation, it could be something else entirely.
What does "commemorating the death of Manuel Marulanda Vélez" actually mean as a justification for attacks?
It's a way of framing violence as ideological rather than criminal. Marulanda was the FARC's founder. Using his death as a reason to attack suggests these groups still see themselves as part of a larger political project, even though they're really fighting over territory and resources.