The bodies are piled up there. They have to be evacuated.
Three days before Colombians were to choose their next president, at least 48 guerrilla fighters died in the Amazonian depths of Guaviare, where rival splinters of the FARC wage war not over ideology but over cocaine and gold. Their bodies lay uncollected in mined jungle, unreachable by the state that once signed a peace accord meant to end such scenes. It is a reminder that formal peace and actual peace are not the same thing — and that where the state cannot govern, criminal economy fills the silence.
- Two dissident FARC factions, one loyal to Iván Mordisco and one to Calarcá, turned the Amazon into a killing field over control of drug trafficking and illegal mining routes.
- Bodies decomposed in the jungle heat, uncollected, because antipersonnel mines blocked rescue teams and helicopters could not land through the weather.
- Civilians were trapped in the crossfire, their homes shaking with gunfire, in a region six hours from the nearest town by four-wheel-drive — and effectively beyond the reach of the state.
- Colombia mobilized 408,000 security forces, drones, warships, and armored vehicles to protect a May 31st election unfolding against the worst armed violence the country has seen in a decade.
- President Petro's peace negotiations with armed groups have collapsed in credibility as the violence accelerates, handing his opponents a powerful charge of weakness just before voters decide.
In the remote Guaviare region of the Colombian Amazon, at least 48 guerrilla fighters were killed in clashes between two rival dissident factions — splinters of the FARC that rejected the 2016 peace accord and never laid down their weapons. The dead remained where they fell, decomposing in the jungle, because antipersonnel mines made retrieval too dangerous and helicopters could not reach the area through the weather. Ground troops were advancing slowly. The fighting happened three days before a presidential election.
The two factions — one commanded by the country's most wanted criminal, Iván Mordisco, the other by a figure known as Calarcá — were not fighting over politics or ideology. They were fighting over cocaine trafficking routes and illegal mining operations in a stretch of Amazonian territory the state has largely lost the ability to govern. Civilians were caught in the crossfire, their isolation captured in videos of gunfire erupting from inside homes in the jungle zone.
The mayor of San José del Guaviare, the nearest town, described bodies piled and awaiting evacuation. His office was six hours away by four-wheel-drive. The violence was not exceptional — it was the sharpest expression of the worst wave of armed conflict Colombia had seen in a decade, as dissident groups financed themselves through extortion, drug production, and mining in protected environmental zones.
Defense Minister Pedro Sánchez announced a nationwide deployment of 408,000 security personnel, backed by aircraft, naval vessels, drones, and armored vehicles, to protect the May 31st vote. 'Holding elections in Colombia is not the same as holding them in Switzerland,' he said. President Petro, who had pursued negotiations with armed groups, faced opposition accusations of weakness as the violence intensified around him. The groups, Sánchez noted bluntly, had no political vision — only the drive to control criminal economies. The election would come and go. The war over the jungle would not.
In the remote depths of Colombia's Guaviare region, deep in the Amazon, at least 48 guerrilla fighters lay dead in the aftermath of a brutal clash between two rival factions. The bodies remained where they fell, uncollected and decomposing in the jungle heat, because the local authorities could not reach them and rescue teams feared the ground itself—mined with antipersonnel explosives—might kill them before they could retrieve the dead. This happened on a Monday in late May, just three days before Colombians were scheduled to vote in a presidential election.
The two groups fighting were dissident splinters of the FARC, the Revolutionary Armed Forces that had supposedly laid down their weapons a decade earlier under a peace accord signed in 2016. But large numbers of fighters had rejected that deal, and now they were at war with each other over something simpler and more primal than ideology: money. Specifically, the vast sums flowing from cocaine trafficking and illegal mining operations across this strategically vital stretch of Amazonian territory. One faction answered to Iván Mordisco, the most wanted criminal in the country. The other followed a commander known as Calarcá. Between them lay the corpses of their soldiers.
Willy Rodríguez, the mayor of San José del Guaviare, the nearest town of any size, described the scene to journalists on Thursday, May 28th. "The bodies are piled up there," he said. "They have to be evacuated." Getting to that location from his office took six hours by four-wheel-drive vehicle across terrain that grew progressively more hostile and remote. The fighting had trapped civilians in the crossfire, and videos circulating on social media captured the sound of heavy gunfire erupting from inside homes in that isolated zone. The military had tried to reach the area by helicopter but weather made it impossible. Ground troops were advancing slowly through the jungle.
This violence was not an isolated incident but rather the most visible eruption of the worst wave of armed conflict Colombia had experienced in a decade. The dissident groups financed themselves through extortion, cocaine production, and mining in protected environmental zones. They also imposed a reign of terror on the populations they controlled—enforcing curfews, restricting movement, executing those who resisted. The state had largely lost the ability to govern these territories.
President Gustavo Petro, Colombia's first left-wing leader, had attempted to negotiate peace with all the armed criminal groups operating in the country. The opposition had seized on these efforts as evidence of weakness, accusing him of being too lenient with the very forces destabilizing the nation. Whether those negotiations had any chance of success was now irrelevant; the violence was accelerating as the election approached.
Defense Minister Pedro Sánchez announced that the government had deployed 408,000 members of the security forces across the entire country to protect the voting process. The deployment included aircraft, naval vessels, drones, counter-drone systems, and armored vehicles. "Holding elections in Colombia is not the same as holding them in Switzerland," Sánchez told a news outlet, acknowledging the reality that democratic processes here operated under constant threat. "There are risks to democracy. We cannot ignore that."
He also offered a blunt assessment of what the dissident groups actually wanted. "Their sole objective is criminal economy, living off drug trafficking," he said. "It is inconceivable. It is absurd." Yet it was happening, and it would continue happening regardless of who won the election on May 31st. The groups had no political program, no vision for the country's future. They were simply fighting each other for the right to extract wealth from the territories they controlled, leaving behind bodies that could not be collected and communities that could not escape.
Notable Quotes
The bodies are piled up there, they have to be evacuated— Willy Rodríguez, mayor of San José del Guaviare
Their sole objective is criminal economy, living off drug trafficking. It is inconceivable, it is absurd.— Pedro Sánchez, Colombia's Defense Minister
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter that these are dissident FARC rather than some other armed group?
Because the FARC signed a peace deal in 2016. These fighters rejected it. They're proof that the agreement didn't actually end the conflict—it just fractured it into smaller, more chaotic pieces fighting each other instead of the state.
So the government lost control of Guaviare entirely?
Not entirely, but functionally yes in that region. The military can't reach the bodies. Rescue teams won't go in because of landmines. The mayor is calling journalists because the authorities can't respond. That's what losing control looks like.
The minister said their only goal is money. Does that make them less dangerous than ideological guerrillas?
In some ways more dangerous. Ideological groups negotiate. They have demands. These factions just want to extract cocaine and gold. They'll fight forever because there's always more money to fight over.
Why hold an election in the middle of this?
You can't postpone democracy because of violence—that's how democracies die. So you deploy 408,000 security forces and hope it's enough. But 48 bodies in the jungle three days before voting tells you something about whether it is.
Will the election results change anything in Guaviare?
Probably not immediately. Whoever wins still has to actually govern that territory, which means confronting groups that have rejected the state's authority entirely. That's a problem no election solves.