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The race to clear Colombia's landmines

As quick as the military tries to clear these hidden killers, guerrillas replant them.

SAN CARLOS — Sergeant Juan Carlos Ruiz’s boots trod carefully up a hillside thick with bright green vegetation and dotted with abandoned homes. Three months ago, he would have been dodging mines. Today, he tries to avoid stomping over the budding bean plants in front of a vacant home.

The home used to belong to a rebel commander of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC). Ruiz and his squadron of deminers found a ring of explosives buried around the house. “In the case that the military attacked the house, it would’ve gone off,” said Ruiz.

The dangers that were removed here remain buried in tens of thousands of hillsides across the country. Landmines and improvised explosive devices (IEDs) that were planted several years ago by illegal armed groups are endangering the lives of displaced people trying to return to their farmlands and homes. And their increased use by the guerillas is making more landmine victims of soldiers and civilians in current battlefields.

“We’re clearing mines at the same time as more are being planted in other parts of the country. We’re attending to victims at the same time that new communities are being affected by this phenomenon,” said Andres Davila, director of the Presidential Program for Comprehensive Action against Antipersonnel Mines.

Colombia is one of the most mine-affected countries in the world: It claimed at least 8,081 victims of explosive devices between 1990 and October of this year, according to the presidential program. Casualties have increased since 2002.

A soldier searches for landmines.
(Nadja Drost/GlobalPost)

Given this unfortunate fame, Colombia seemed an appropriate host for this week’s review conference in Cartagena of the 10-year-old Mine Ban Treaty, which bans the use, stockpiling, production or transfer of antipersonnel mines. Colombia hopes the 100-country conference will put the spotlight on the increasing need for mine action in the host country.

“A landmine is a perfect soldier: It doesn’t eat, it doesn’t ask for vacation, it doesn’t need to rest and it is active for 30 years,” said Lt. Colonel Mauricio Moreno, commander of the School of Military Engineers.

And these “perfect soldiers” are dispersed across all but one of Colombia’s 32 departments.

Here in San Carlos, security has been restored for the most part, and thousands of peasants who fled turbulent years of fighting between the paramilitary, guerilla and armed forces want to return to their homes. But now, they must contend with another threat.

“In this moment, it’s not fear of the Self-Defense Forces … nor is it fear of the guerrilla. It’s the fear of mines,” said Emma Alzate, who was displaced from the hamlet of La Mirandita to San Carlos and lost two husbands due to fighting. “This is the principle problem we have now in the hamlets of San Carlos.”

Alzate is too afraid to return to La Mirandita before it is cleared of mines. Instead, she visits occasionally to check on the farm she fled nine years ago and greet neighbors who are slowly returning and starting life over among skeletons of homes overtaken by nature and marked with bullet holes. She treads carefully along the muddy footpath, pointing out where residents had found mines.