What does this commander know that makes the government bend?
En los confines rurales de Briceño, Antioquia, cuatro estructuras armadas se disputan un territorio cuyo valor estratégico supera, en su lógica, el peso de las vidas que lo habitan. El enfrentamiento reciente entre el Frente 36 de las disidencias de las FARC y el Clan del Golfo no es un episodio aislado, sino el último capítulo de una violencia que convierte el desplazamiento en costumbre y la espera en condición permanente para quienes solo quieren volver a casa.
- Setenta familias recibieron una orden de evacuación acompañada de una amenaza concreta: quien permaneciera en zonas donde se refugiaran actores armados quedaría expuesto a bombardeos con drones.
- El audio circulado por el Frente 36 instaló el terror como mecanismo de control territorial, obligando a más de 130 personas a abandonar sus hogares en cuestión de horas.
- Briceño acumula capas de crisis: semanas antes, el 8 de abril, tres soldados murieron cuando un dron fue detonado durante combates entre el Ejército Nacional y el mismo Frente 36.
- El gobernador de Antioquia cuestionó públicamente por qué el Frente 36 opera con aparente impunidad mientras otros grupos enfrentan presión militar sostenida, señalando una asimetría que alimenta la desconfianza institucional.
- Las autoridades anticipan nuevos desplazamientos en las próximas horas, y sin control efectivo del Estado sobre Travesías, el ciclo amenaza con repetirse como ya ocurrió a finales de 2025, cuando más de dos mil personas fueron expulsadas de la zona.
En el corregimiento de Travesías, dentro del municipio de Briceño en el norte de Antioquia, cuatro estructuras armadas —el Clan del Golfo, los frentes 18 y 36 de las disidencias de las FARC, y el bloque Héroes de Tarazá del ELN— se reparten un territorio de alto valor estratégico para el narcotráfico. La tensión acumulada estalló en combates abiertos entre el Frente 36 y el Clan del Golfo, y las consecuencias las pagaron los civiles.
Setenta familias, unas 130 personas según conteos preliminares, abandonaron sus hogares tras recibir una orden de evacuación del Frente 36. La advertencia llegó en forma de audio: cualquier actor armado que se refugiara en casas de civiles sería atacado con toda la fuerza disponible, incluidos drones. Quien no quisiera quedar atrapado en los bombardeos debía irse. La amenaza no era retórica: semanas antes, el 8 de abril, tres soldados habían muerto cuando un dron fue detonado durante enfrentamientos entre el Ejército y ese mismo frente.
El gobernador Andrés Julián Rendón no ocultó su frustración. Señaló que mientras el Clan del Golfo y el Frente 18 han sido objeto de bombardeos estatales, el Frente 36 parece moverse con impunidad, y preguntó en voz alta qué explica esa diferencia de trato. Su diagnóstico fue claro: sin que la fuerza pública establezca control efectivo sobre la zona, las familias desplazadas no podrán regresar y otras seguirán siendo expulsadas.
Briceño no es ajena a este dolor. A finales de 2025, más de dos mil personas fueron desplazadas de Travesías y otros corregimientos del municipio. Los 130 que hoy esperan en el casco urbano son la expresión más reciente de una crisis que se repite, en un territorio donde el Estado llega tarde y los grupos armados nunca se van.
In the rural stretches of Travesías, a corregimiento tucked into Briceño municipality in Antioquia's northern reaches, the ground has become contested terrain. Four separate armed structures have carved out positions here—the Gulf Clan operating through its Luis Hernando Rozo Bertel bloc, FARC dissident fronts 18 and 36, and the ELN's Héroes de Tarazá bloc—each one treating the landscape as theirs to control. The strategic value of this territory, its position in the larger calculus of drug trafficking routes and territorial dominance, has made it a permanent flashpoint.
In recent days, that tension erupted into open combat. FARC dissident Front 36 and the Gulf Clan clashed across the rural areas of Travesías, and the consequence fell on the people living there. Seventy families—approximately 130 individuals by preliminary count, though no official municipal census has yet been conducted—were forced to abandon their homes and move into Briceño's urban center. The order came from a commander of Front 36, who instructed residents to evacuate ahead of the fighting. But the warning came with a threat. An audio message circulated among the population, attributed to a member of the armed group, laid out the stakes with brutal clarity: any armed actor sheltering inside civilian homes would be targeted with full force, including drone strikes. Those who did not want to be caught in the bombardment were told to leave.
The displacement was not unexpected. Briceño has become one of the municipalities most ravaged by armed group presence in the region, and Travesías has emerged as one of the country's current conflict epicenters. Just weeks earlier, in early April, clashes between the National Army and Front 36 had already torn through the area. During those April 8th confrontations, three soldiers were killed when a drone was detonated. The pattern is familiar enough that authorities are already bracing for what comes next—more families are expected to flee in the coming hours.
The governor of Antioquia, Andrés Julián Rendón, offered a pointed reading of the situation. He questioned why some armed groups face sustained military pressure—the Gulf Clan and FARC Front 18 have been targets of bombardment—while Front 36, known locally as "Calarcá," appears to operate with impunity. His frustration was evident: what does this commander know about the national government that allows him to operate while the state's institutional machinery seems bent elsewhere? Rendón's conclusion was direct. The only way to enable these families to return home, and to prevent others from being displaced, is for the public forces to establish effective control over the area. Without that, the cycle will continue.
This is not a new crisis for Briceño. At the end of 2025, more than two thousand people were displaced from Travesías and nine other corregimientos in the municipality as armed groups fought for dominance. The displacement has become routine, a recurring feature of life in a territory where the state's presence is thin and the armed groups' grip is firm. The 130 people now sheltering in the urban center are the latest addition to a growing list of the displaced, waiting for conditions that may not come—waiting for the state to show up, to take control, to make it safe to go home.
Notable Quotes
Any armed group sheltering inside civilian homes will be attacked with full force, including drone bombardment. Communities that do not want to be caught in the strikes must evacuate immediately.— Audio message attributed to FARC dissident Front 36 member
The only way to enable these families to return home and prevent further displacement is for public forces to establish effective control over the area.— Andrés Julián Rendón, Governor of Antioquia
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does a place like Travesías matter so much to four different armed groups at once?
It's geography as currency. The corregimiento sits on routes that move drugs and money north. Control it, and you control a piece of the supply chain. That's worth fighting for, even if it means destroying the communities that live there.
The audio message—the threat about drone strikes—that's the armed group essentially telling civilians they're in the way.
Exactly. It's not a warning meant to protect them. It's a warning that says: leave, or you become collateral. The group is clearing the board before the fighting starts, removing witnesses and potential complications.
The governor seems frustrated that one group isn't being targeted like the others. Is he suggesting the government is choosing sides?
He's asking the question directly. Why does Front 36 operate with apparent freedom while others face bombardment? It raises uncomfortable possibilities—corruption, intelligence failures, or simply that the state's capacity is so stretched it can only fight one battle at a time.
What happens to these 130 people now?
They're in the urban center, displaced from their land and livelihoods. They wait. They hope the fighting ends. But the governor is right—without the state actually controlling the territory, there's no reason for them to go back. And no reason the next clash won't displace them again.
Is this cycle breakable?
Only if the state shows up with force and stays. But Briceño has been waiting for that for years. Two thousand people were displaced at the end of last year alone. The pattern suggests the state isn't coming, at least not soon enough.