On September 16, 2025, Colombia’s long and painful reckoning with its violent past took a historic turn as the Special Jurisdiction for Peace (JEP) handed down its first sentences for war crimes committed during the country’s decades-long internal conflict. In a ruling that has sparked both praise and fierce criticism, seven former leaders of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) were found responsible for orchestrating a policy of mass kidnappings that left deep scars across the nation.
The JEP, a transitional and restorative justice tribunal established under the landmark 2016 peace agreement between the Colombian government and FARC, sentenced these ex-commanders to eight years of alternative sanctions. Rather than prison, the men—Rodrigo Londoño (alias Timochenko), Pablo Catatumbo, Pastor Lisandro Alape, Milton de Jesús Toncel (alias Joaquín Gómez), Jaime Alberto Parra (El Médico), Julián Gallo (Carlos Antonio Lozada), and Rodrigo Granda (Ricardo Téllez)—will spend the next eight years working on projects to locate missing persons, remove landmines, and engage in symbolic acts of reparation for victims. Their movements will be strictly monitored with electronic devices to ensure compliance, and they will face restrictions on their mobility and civil rights.
The tribunal’s ruling is the culmination of more than seven years of investigation under Macrocase 01, which examined the kidnappings of over 21,000 Colombians between 1993 and 2016. According to EFE, the JEP identified three main patterns in FARC’s kidnapping strategy: first, seizing civilians for ransom to fund rebel operations; second, detaining soldiers and political leaders to force prisoner exchanges and gain political leverage; and third, using kidnapping as a tool to control territory and intimidate society. These systematic actions, the court found, rose to the level of crimes against humanity and war crimes, including torture, homicide, deprivation of liberty, and forced disappearances.
Magistrate Camilo Suárez, in a statement reported by AP, declared, “This sentence does not erase the suffering of the victims. But it is the voice that recognizes that what they went through was unjustifiable and inhumane.” The tribunal’s findings were stark: many victims were kept in chains or cages, subjected to cruel, degrading, and inhuman treatment, including permanent shackling, coerced marches, deprivation of medical care, food, and dignity, and, in some cases, sexual violence. The court also heard that some victims were held for years—one for as long as 14 years—while their families endured agonizing uncertainty.
For the FARC commanders, the weight of these crimes is something they acknowledged in their own words. In a statement cited by AFP, the former leaders described the kidnappings as “a moral burden that we will carry for many years” and pledged to devote themselves to the task of “repairing Colombian society.” The JEP’s president, Alejandro Ramelli, emphasized the broader purpose of the ruling: “Recognitions and contributions to the truth set us free, and justice becomes concrete actions in the territories most affected by the armed conflict.” He added, “What we are experiencing today is not only one painful case, but thousands. These are stories that tear us apart and appear in every corner of Colombia. Wherever you look, you see lives marked by conflict.”
The JEP’s approach—rooted in restorative justice—means that those who confess their crimes, accept responsibility, and engage in reparative acts are spared prison time. This model was enshrined in the 2016 peace deal, which sought to prioritize truth, restoration, and non-repetition over retribution. For many international observers and legal scholars, the tribunal’s work has been groundbreaking, helping to document the grisly details of Colombia’s civil war and offering a model for post-conflict societies elsewhere. Yet, the sentences have not been universally welcomed.
Victims’ groups and some segments of Colombian society have voiced deep disappointment, arguing that the penalties are too lenient and fail to provide adequate compensation. Sebastián Velásquez, spokesman for the Federation of Victims of Terrorism in Colombia, told AP, “They avoided going to prison, in exchange for telling the truth. In our opinion they have not fully complied with that deal.” Many victims’ advocates contend that FARC’s leadership amassed considerable wealth during the conflict—money they believe should be used for economic reparations. The former FARC commanders, however, have denied these claims, maintaining that their resources were not hidden away or available for compensation.
Some of the most high-profile victims have also spoken out. Ingrid Betancourt, the French-Colombian former presidential candidate who spent more than six years as a FARC hostage, said she felt “outraged, humiliated, mocked” by the ruling, as reported by AFP. Betancourt has long opposed the peace deal, arguing that it is too forgiving toward former rebels. Her sentiments are echoed by many Colombians, especially those who suffered directly at the hands of FARC or lost loved ones during the conflict. The peace accord itself was narrowly rejected in a 2016 referendum, only to be ratified later by Congress after heated debate.
The scale of suffering in Colombia’s conflict is staggering. According to a study by Colombia’s National Center for Historical Memory, between 1958 and 2013, some 220,000 people were killed—most of them civilians. More than 5 million were forced from their homes between 1985 and 2012, creating one of the world’s largest populations of internally displaced people. As EFE notes, the JEP’s investigation registered 21,396 kidnapping victims, with 4,325 accredited before the tribunal.
Despite the peace agreement and the JEP’s efforts, Colombia continues to grapple with violence. Dissident FARC factions that rejected the peace deal, along with other armed groups, have escalated attacks on state forces. Defence ministry figures cited by AFP reveal that over 130 soldiers and police officers were killed in such attacks between January and mid-August 2025. In one particularly shocking incident, conservative presidential candidate Miguel Uribe was fatally shot at a campaign event, allegedly by FARC dissidents.
The JEP’s ruling is not the end of Colombia’s legal reckoning with its past. Later this week, the tribunal is expected to issue a decision in a separate case involving extrajudicial executions by Colombia’s military—a reminder that the wounds of conflict are not confined to one side. As Judge Suárez observed, “Kidnapping became a systematic practice under FARC that left open wounds that persist in families, in (rural) territories and in the daily life of the country.”
For now, the country stands at a crossroads: grappling with the legacy of violence, the demands of justice, and the fragile hope for reconciliation. The JEP’s first sentences mark a milestone, but the path to healing remains long and uncertain—echoing the words of Judge Ramelli, who told victims, “This sentence will not give you back all that you lost. It cannot change a painful past, recover lost time, or completely heal your deep wounds. No sentence in the world could do so. But it does seek to alleviate your pain and that of your families.”