Few US policies towards Latin America in recent years have generated as much interest, and controversy, as the multi-year program to assist Colombia in its fight against drugs and related violence. As that program, widely known as “Plan Colombia,” completes a full decade – it was approved by the US Congress in July 2000 – it is useful to review its accomplishments as well as its shortcomings and disappointments.
As in most discussions about Plan Colombia – and about the notably complex situation in Colombia itself – there is an unfortunate tendency towards polarization. For some, Plan Colombia is a great success story, while for others it has been a dismal failure. As is usually the case, the evidence shows that the truth is somewhere in the middle.
That Colombia’s security conditions have markedly improved over the past decade is beyond question. It can no longer be accurately described, as was the case a decade ago, as a country “on the brink,” with the real possibility of becoming a “failed state.” The data regarding the dramatic drop in levels of massacres, homicides and kidnappings, for example, speak for themselves. So do facts about the now established police presence throughout the national territory, and the reduced operational capabilities of the strongest insurgency, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC).
What is less clear is to what extent the US aid that has come under the Plan Colombia framework – an estimated $7 billion over the course of the decade – has contributed to the turnaround. Methodologically, it is difficult to determine the relative weight of Plan Colombia aid and other factors, such as the effect of local and national initiatives to control violence and crime, which might have taken place with or without the substantial assistance program. It is reasonable to conclude, however, that the support provided under Plan Colombia at least was an important factor that contributed in some measure to the improvement in security conditions. Even if that support was indirectly channeled, and was a by-product of explicitly anti-narcotics aid, it still managed to help the Colombians establish greater security in the country.
At the same time, Plan Colombia’s many critics rightly point to the policy’s failure to meet the fundamental purpose for which the program was developed: to reduce the availability of drugs, particularly cocaine (roughly 90 percent in the United States came from Colombia), in US communities. The idea was that by providing the Colombian military with helicopters and other related equipment and support, they could then eradicate the supply of coca, chiefly in the southern part of the country, that ultimately helped sustain violent actors of the left and the right in Colombia, and that could eventually result in a more manageable problem in US cities. The original goal was to reduce coca cultivation by some 50 percent in Colombia. On this particular score, however – which was the repeated, explicit objective of Plan Colombia – the policy has few defenders.
The data are simply not encouraging. The availability and price of illicit drugs consumed in the United States have changed little throughout the decade, despite the enormous effort and investment in resources. A 2008 report from the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crimes show an increase in coca cultivation in previous years. To be sure, some contend that, however serious the drug problem remains today, it might be far worse without Plan Colombia. That speculation of a counterfactual is not, however, reassuring.
The fact is that even Plan Colombia’s most enthusiastic cheerleaders in the US Congress a decade ago today acknowledge (privately, at least) that the anti-drug policy has been a tremendous disappointment and alternative approaches need to be seriously explored. Still, some studies, such as “Back From the Brink” produced by the Center for Strategic and International Studies in 2007, continue to argue that Plan Colombia’s anti-drug efforts yielded favorable results – for example, by disrupting the flow of drug profits to the armed guerrilla group and cutting production of opium poppy. To be sure, successes have been registered at particular moments in particular locations. But if one takes a longer-term view, and especially if one looks at the wider region, not just Colombia, and that drug-related activity that is routinely displaced by sophisticated and agile groups, then it is hard to be sanguine about overall results.
In 2008 the US government’s General Accounting Office produced a cogent and rigorous report for the Senate Foreign Relations Committee that revealed Plan Colombia’s successes on security measures but relative failure on the drug issue. Such an assessment is sometimes interpreted that Plan Colombia has been a success for Colombia but a failure for the United States. This, however, is a myopic perspective. The fact that the Colombian government was able, thanks in part to assistance provided by Plan Colombia, to more effectively reassert the authority of the state and extend its presence throughout the country – thus avoiding the more dire security scenarios that seemed plausible in 2000 – is not only a success for Colombia, but for the United States and for the wider region.
The decision-making process leading up to the approval of Plan Colombia in 2000 revealed different motivations of different policy actors in Washington. Some in the Clinton administration were deeply worried about the deteriorating security conditions, particularly the fact that the Colombian military increasingly seemed ill-equipped to cope with the advances of the FARC. The growth and proliferation of the country’s powerful paramilitary forces were also of utmost concern. A group of Congressional (mostly Republican) hardliners were, on the other hand, energized by the “war on drugs” and seriously believed that the anti-drug Plan Colombia (though many of them preferred the police to the military, who they saw as corrupt) was what was needed to curtail a problem that was affecting US families and communities and was, for many in Congress, viewed as politically advantageous. The then speaker of the House of Representatives, Denis Hastert, was a particularly strong advocate for the policy and vigorously pushed a hard-line anti-drug approach.
Whether one was concerned about the drug problem in the US, or the security situation in Colombia, it was nonetheless clear that the only way to garner and mobilize substantial political support for significant resources – Congress initially approved $1.3 billion for Plan Colombia – was by framing the proposal as fundamentally an anti-drug measure. Arguments about the need to help Colombians shore up and bolster their security situation would have gotten little political traction in a post Cold War context. Posing the challenge as defending Colombia’s democracy – the oldest in South America – would have had even less resonance with the US electorate. The hard political reality, implicitly understood by Clinton administration officials, meant that Plan Colombia had to be presented and sold as an anti-drug package. The alternative, it seemed, was to do nothing and simply stand by and witness Colombia’s progressive deterioration – a deterioration that could be attributed to the US’s nearly insatiable appetite for drugs and that, if unchecked, could have serious consequences for the US and the rest of the hemisphere.
At the outset there were many warnings about Plan Colombia, and alternative ideas and proposals were advanced. In a 1999 report entitled “Towards Greater Peace and Security in Colombia,” the analysis and recommendations of an independent commission (for which the author was director) organized by the Inter-American Dialogue and the Council on Foreign Relations, pointed to the fundamental need to help improve the capacity and effectiveness of the Colombian state in order to better tackle a range of challenges, including security and drugs. The report’s critique of Plan Colombia, in the form that it emerged from the US Congress, was that it got it backwards, focusing too narrowly on the drug issue without taking into account the broader challenge of assisting Colombia in strengthening and renewing key institutions that had become weaker over time. The report particularly encouraged a greater emphasis on professionalizing Colombia’s security forces, including an insistence in adhering to human rights norms and standards. Nonetheless, as it turned out, broader institutional considerations in Plan Colombia – though no doubt present and in certain respects very important — were subordinate to the overriding focus of eradicating drugs in southern Colombia.
To be sure, many European governments as well as non-governmental organizations at the time — in Colombia as well as the United States, Canada, and Europe — harshly criticized Plan Colombia’s decidedly military approach (80 percent of the package was security aid) and urged an alternative package with greater attention to social, developmental concerns. Such concerns were closely aligned, critics pointed out, with the thrust of proposals that had emanated from the Colombian administration of Andres Pastrana after he became president in 1998.
Pastrana had embarked on a peace process with the FARC, including granting the insurgency a demilitarized zone roughly the size of Switzerland. The notion was that through greater attention to the social agenda the Colombian government could succeed in getting the FARC to negotiate in good faith and bring the conflict to an end. The Pastrana administration had indeed developed such a development plan, but it had also requested some $600 million in military aid. The Clinton administration combined the components into an overall package but, particularly as a result of significant Congressional pressure, the security emphasis of the anti-drug approach was clearly predominant. While some in the Clinton administration gave Pastrana the benefit of the doubt and were prepared to see if the peace process could yield positive results, many Congressional proponents of Plan Colombia were highly skeptical.
That Plan Colombia not only entailed the provision of military equipment to Colombia, but also the presence of US military personnel on the ground, also provoked a strong reaction and admonitions. Critics feared “another Vietnam”, with the US heading into a quagmire in its own hemisphere. Terms like “mission creep” and “slippery slope” were frequently invoked. The fear was that, under the guise of the “war on drugs,” the US would be dragged increasingly in Colombia’s internal armed conflict that had been going on for decades. At the time, there was enormous skepticism among critics that the legal limits that had been set on US military personnel and private contractors would be fully respected. US Representative Jan Schakowsky (D-IL) was a particularly strong critic of using private companies to carry out Colombia policy. She warned of a “secret war” and invoked comparisons when the White House circumvented the Congressional ban to supply weapons to the Contra rebels in Nicaragua in the 1980s.
The concern was echoed throughout Latin America, and particularly in Colombia’s neighbor, Venezuela, where President Hugo Chavez referred explicitly to “another Vietnam” and warned that Plan Colombia could “generate a medium-intensity conflict in the whole of northern South America.” The announcement of a markedly security-oriented US policy involving the deployment of military resources in Latin America touched a real nerve with many in the region. In September 2000, Ecuador’s Foreign Minister Heinz Moeller objected to “the cancerous tumor being removed from Colombia and metastasizing in Ecuador.” Regional leaders believed that Colombia’s security problems should be handled chiefly by the Colombian government. Outside intervention, particularly on the part of the US, on the scale that Plan Colombia represented made them profoundly apprehensive.
Part of the problem, to be sure, was that the US policy was developed without adequate consultation with Colombia’s regional neighbors, which only heightened suspicions about US motives. The lack of diplomatic groundwork would be repeated nearly a decade later, in 2009, when the United States signed a defense cooperation agreement with Colombia. When information about the pact was leaked, there was a strong reaction from many in region, including close US allies like Brazil and Chile, who demanded explanations of the purposes and parameters of such an agreement.
The widespread fears about “another Vietnam” in the Western Hemisphere, though perhaps understandable, proved highly exaggerated and unfounded. A careful examination of the implementation of Plan Colombia over the past decade shows few signs of “mission creep.” Indeed, the number of US personnel was not only kept within legal bounds (800 for military and 600 for private contractors), but reportedly dropped below the agreed levels. However one judges the effectiveness and success of Plan Colombia, it should be recognized that the United States was able to carry out a security-oriented policy, with military support, without getting drawn into a quagmire.
To be sure, as many observers anticipated, there have been serious “spillover” problems, involving the flow of refugees fleeing violence and drug-related activities, in neighboring countries, particularly Ecuador. But there was considerable spillover even before the launching of Plan Colombia and it can be argued that, absent Plan Colombia and the security gains it helped achieve, such problems across borders would have been even greater than they were.
Progress in reducing Colombia’s security threats has not, however, come without significant costs. The human rights situation, while improved on a number of important measures over the decade, has remained very critical. The numbers of internally displaced population continue to rise dramatically – with an estimated 3 to 4 million — and today Colombia is second only to Sudan as the world’s most problematic country on this issue. While many areas of Colombia have seen better security conditions, other parts – particularly in rural zones, where the conflict continues – remain very dangerous and risky. The advances have been real, but limited, and uneven throughout a highly regional country.
Moreover, some new, deeply disturbing problems have emerged in the course of the decade of Plan Colombia’s implementation. Among the most serious was the so-called “false positive” scandal, in which the military dressed up civilians as FARC guerrillas to meet unofficial army benchmarks for military success. This spate of extra-judicial killings has been indefensible, particularly as the country’s security gains were being solidified. Fortunately, the unprecedented dismissal of several top Colombian military officers in October 2008 demonstrated that the Uribe administration recognized the seriousness of these crimes and was addressing the problem.
Colombia’s so-called “para-political” scandal has also been the subject of much media attention. Ongoing revelations of the links between the illegal, brutal paramilitary forces and sectors of the country’s political establishment reveal the corruption that had become rampant in Colombia. Of course, once again illustrating the Colombia’s paradoxes, it should be noted that Uribe’s “Peace and Justice” Law – which demobilized more than 30,000 paramilitary forces between 2003 and 2005 – enabled the Attorney General’s office to investigate these cases in the first place. Still, human rights groups have raised legitimate concerns that the demobilization effort should have been tougher, with more severe punishments for crimes.
Of course, it is impossible to know with any certainty what the human rights situation in Colombia would be like today without US aid in the form of Plan Colombia. It can be plausibly argued, however, that on balance, the leverage that the US government achieved through the significant anti drug and security plan helped keep in check the worst abuses, and also increased pressure on Colombian authorities to prosecute those responsible for such abuses. Without such substantial aid it is likely that US demands on the Colombian government would have been less effective. Moreover, from the outset, the US support has operated within the framework set by the 1997 Leahy amendment, under which Colombian military units that receive US aid should be thoroughly vetted to insure that they adhere to human rights standards. Though the implementation of the amendment has had its share of difficulties, at least there has been a practice in place that seeks to make sure the rule of law is being upheld.
Until August 2002, the US aid under Plan Colombia could only be used provided there was a drug connection or component in the situation. As a result of the Plan’s origins, a politically artificial and practically absurd distinction was made between US support specifically aimed at drugs and assistance that might be used for more explicitly security purposes, whether or not there was a drug link. The distinction was developed to reinforce that Plan Colombia was aimed at fighting drugs, and not fighting violent actors in Colombia, with the risks of getting bogged down in a complicated internal conflict. From the outset, policymakers had believed such a distinction made little sense, in light of the conditions on the ground in Colombia, but they had to function within political realities and constraints that prevailed at the time.
The possible use of US aid became more flexible in the context of the attacks on the United States by Al Queda on September 11, 2001. As a result, security concerns became far more salient than they had been previously, for all of Washington, DC, not only the Bush administration but the Congress as well. The transformed mood shaped new political realities, which had an effect on Plan Colombia aid. The new regulations authorized by the US Congress permitted the assistance to be used by the Colombians for security purposes, whether or not a drug connection was involved. Such a change was welcomed by the Colombians, who rightly believed that the previous restrictions responded more to US domestic politics than the security conditions on the ground.
The September 11, 2001 attacks on the United States affected Plan Colombia in another key sense, beyond notably elevating security concerns among policymakers. The attacks also meant that the US from that moment on would be absorbed and consumed by wars in Afghanistan and, since March 2003, Iraq. The resources destined to help contain drug-fueled violence in Colombia would have to compete with other situations that immediately acquired far greater urgency on the US foreign policy agenda. Budget constraints, though surely a relevant consideration when Plan Colombia was approved in 2000, became more severe in light of the US response to unprecedented attacks on its homeland. The idea was that, with Colombia’s success and other priorities for the US, aid would eventually begin to wind down. It is interesting to speculate what might have been the fate of Plan Colombia – or whether there would have been a Plan Colombia at all – if the terrorist attacks on the United States had taken place before 2000.
Indeed, it is quite noteworthy that, even a decade after Plan Colombia got underway – and in light of its relative success on the security front and the far more difficult economic and financial realities in the United States – the Obama administration has proposed providing Colombia nearly 600 million in 2011 Though reduced by roughly 10 percent from last year’s level, and reflecting a shifting balance in aid, towards greater social and institutional support, the package is nonetheless significant and expresses a continuing commitment to Colombia’s efforts to deal with its wide-ranging challenges.
Coincidentally, the completion of a decade of Plan Colombia takes place at the same time that Juan Manuel Santos assumes the presidency of Colombia, following eight years of Alvaro Uribe. Uribe’s “democratic security” approach is widely credited with bringing the country a greater sense of security. Though in the end beset by scandals and controversies, the Uribe administration pursued an agenda, focused on fighting guerrillas and drugs, that meshed well with the purposes of US assistance under Plan Colombia. There is every reason to expect that Santos will continue to make the case that Colombia needs continued support to consolidate its gains and try to prevent any backsliding on the security front (in fact, there are already signs of such backsliding in selected areas, particularly in Medellin, where violence has been increasing). Given Washington’s political and economic realities, however – and continuing concerns about human rights questions — Santos is likely to face a difficult sell.
Plan Colombia could have been better conceived and better designed, with a sharper focus on institutional support and development. But the policy was shaped by the prevailing political context, and its limitations should be seen in that light. What would be particularly valuable and needed now for Colombia – indeed, for all of the Americas — would be a serious rethinking of the anti-drug policy that has long been in place, and whose results have been disappointing at best.
It would be productive to build on the sound and wise suggestions contained in a 2009 report of the Latin American Commission on Drugs and Democracy, co-chaired by former Latin American presidents Fernando Henrique Cardoso (Brazil), Cesar Gaviria (Colombia) and Ernesto Zedillo (Mexico). The report is rightly concerned that continued criminality, much of it with a drug connection, is bound to generate even more serious problems in the region, including risks to the rule of law. Such an alternative approach might highlight more effective international cooperation, a thorough review of criminal laws on various drugs, and viable development models and strategies. That is the principal challenge moving forward.
