1 Introduction
Environmental protection is a widely recognised public function of states. It would be logical to think that any actor exercising state-like functions, such as administering territory or providing public goods, would have a role in protecting the environment. By 2024, the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) estimates that more than 210 million people live under the full or fluid control of armed non-state actors (ANSAs) (Bamber-Zryd Reference Bamber-Zryd2024). ANSAs’ territorial control and the potential governing functions that may derive therefrom have prompted a growing body of legal scholarship to shift its focus from primarily examining ANSAs under national law to evaluating their roles, statuses and behaviours within the framework of international law (Heffes Reference Heffes2025). In parallel, political science has made substantial advances through the theory of rebel governance, which legal scholars are increasingly using to understand how ANSAs engage in civilian affairs within the territories they control (Ginsburg Reference Ginsburg2019; Spadaro Reference Spadaro, Fortin and Heffes2023). However, a critical gap remains.
First, international law often struggles to accommodate actions by ANSAs that fall outside a narrowly defined framework of conflict. Its conflict-centric bias renders it an unlikely tool for understanding ANSAs’ non-military roles – particularly in environmental governance. Second, despite two major recent developments – the ICRC’s 2020 Guidelines on the Protection of the Natural Environment in Armed Conflict and the ILC’s 2022 Draft Principles on the Protection of the Environment in Relation to Armed Conflicts – the role of ANSAs in environmental protection has seldom been analysed in depth, much less the legality of their actions concerning the use, access and administration of natural resources as a civilian affair with no nexus to the armed conflict. Third, while rebel governance theory has expanded understanding of ANSAs’ involvement in public services, it has yet to meaningfully consider their roles in environmental protection. Such a significant gap in scholarly research limits our understanding of both ANSAs and environmental protection, which in turn hampers effective regulatory measures and engagement initiatives.
This article presents the debate on ANSAs’ role in environmental protection as crucial to a broader understanding of substate environmental governance. It seeks to keep moving ANSAs from the periphery to the mainstream of legal thought by highlighting how their contributions make it possible to rethink their role as socio-legal actors. It opens doors to further research in response to legal challenges currently being discussed in international and domestic courts regarding environmental crimes and the roles of state and non-state actors in addressing the climate crisis (IACtHR 2025; International Court of Justice 2025; OTP-ICC 2024). To do so, it portrays ANSAs’ apparent invisibility in environmental protection as sustaining a limited ecological perspective on war. By contrast, it seeks to shed light on environmental protection as a significant facet of rebel governance (Arjona Reference Arjona2016; Kasfir Reference Kasfir, Arjona, Kasfir and Mampilly2015), highlighting its complex interrelation with criminal accountability, human rights and transitional justice. Although the correlation between the environment and law in armed conflict is not novel (Demeyere Reference Demeyere2023; Dienelt Reference Dienelt2022; Obregón Gieseken and Murphy Reference Obregón Gieseken and Murphy2023; Sanabria-Moyano et al. Reference Sanabria-Moyano, Barrero-Romero and Rodríguez-Vivas2023), the potential contribution of ANSAs in preserving the environment in parallel with a military and conflict agenda marks a distinctive shift.
To gain a deeper understanding of how rebels interact with environmental issues, the author conducted comprehensive research, including documentary analysis and semi-structured interviews with former members of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia – People’s Army (FARC-EP), focusing particularly on the Efraín Guzmán Bloc, which operated in the Urabá region in north-eastern Colombia. The interviews yielded significant insights into the internal regulatory mechanisms that shaped the environmental order the group enforced, mainly from 2000 to 2012. By documenting both first- and second-hand information, the paper highlights the need to broaden the ecological conversation surrounding warfare, contesting the dominant perspective that views armed non-state actors merely as environmental detractors or incidental protectors. The article moves away from assumptions that suggest a fatalistic relationship between nature, conflict and ANSAs, thereby limiting the ecological perspective on war. It examines the barriers that hinder the recognition of these actors as potential environmental protectors and advocates for a more comprehensive understanding of their impact as environmental service providers and lawmakers.
The author selected the FARC-EP organisation as a case study for three compelling reasons. First, as one of the oldest guerrilla groups in Latin America – founded in the 1960s – the FARC-EP has a well-documented history of armed conflict and violence. However, a significant gap remains in legal theory and empirical research regarding its role in environmental matters, particularly in its civil governance practices and environmental interventions within the territories it controlled. In 2013, ANSAs were reported to be present in twenty-three of Colombia’s fifty-seven national parks (Semana 2013); the FARC-EP alone operated for decades across 21 per cent of the country’s territory, including some of its most biodiverse and remote regions (Baena Jaramillo 2017, p. 29). This geographic footprint suggests a sustained and meaningful interaction with the natural environment. Second, following the 2016 peace agreement between the Colombian government and the FARC-EP, as the group withdrew from areas it previously controlled, media outlets began reporting increased environmental degradation. These accounts raised important questions about the group’s previous role in environmental protection – prompting some to describe the phenomenon as the end of ‘gunpoint conservation’ (International Crisis Group 2021). Finally, because a substantial portion of the group has laid down arms and is currently engaged in a reincorporation process, access to information is more feasible than in other conflict or post-conflict settings.
In brief, this article posits that, in ways analogous to the state, the FARC-EP pursued multi-faceted environmental agendas within the territories it controlled or influenced. While the Colombian government viewed these areas as lawless and devoid of effective governance, resulting in minimal environmental oversight, the FARC-EP arguably contributed to environmental protection by intentionally establishing a rebel environmental order, as evidenced by regulations on access, use and administration of natural resources. To develop the argument, the paper is divided as follows.
Section 2 draws on extra-legal considerations to explain the long-standing exclusion of ANSAs from legal debates regarding environmental protection. ANSAs are shunned under both domestic law, where they pose a central challenge to the state and legal monism, and under international law, where they challenge the state’s sovereignty. The section focuses on the process of ‘othering’ the FARC-EP, particularly due to their association with remote jungle regions, which has contributed to a categorical dismissal of their actions, including those that may have had positive impacts on the territories and populations under their control.
Section 3 elucidates how understanding the FARC-EP as merely a terrorist actor legitimises states in punishing ANSAs and fundamentally rejects the idea of the FARC-EP as a law-and-order provider. To do so, it provides an overview of Decision 01 of the Special Jurisdiction for Peace (JEP) in Case 05.
Subsequently, in Section 4, an attempt is made to introduce a new reading of the relationship between nature and war through the study of the FARC-EP in Colombia. First, Section 4.1 proposes the existence of a symbiotic relationship in which the FARC-EP needed to preserve the environment while waging war and ruling daily life in the territories it controlled. Finally, drawing on the theories of rebel governance and legal pluralism, Section 4.2 suggests that environmental services should be considered an additional facet of rebel governance. It presents factors that led the FARC-EP’s Efraín Guzmán Bloc to exert control over socio-ecological interactions, joins the conversation about ANSAs’ legal efforts, and takes a step toward portraying the FARC-EP’s environmental legislation.
2 A critique of the traditional perspective of the FARC-EP as environmental spoilers
Section 2 aims to provide a more comprehensive understanding of armed non-state actors and their roles in environmental protection as a doctrine in statu nascendi. Drawing on a philosophical understanding of otherness and insights from political science, and without intending to resolve the political and moral dilemmas inherent in war narratives, this section examines the factors that hinder states and legal scholars from recognising ANSAs as entities capable of establishing environmental governance and employing legal mechanisms to enforce it within rebel-held territories. Finally, it explores why considering the jungle as lawless land without governing structures, characterised by nearly absent environmental stewardship, influenced the state’s perception of the FARC-EP.
2.1 FARC-EP as the ‘Other’
States often frame war in such a way that ANSAs may be viewed solely as military actors, rendering the idea of them establishing a normative order to safeguard the environment inconceivable. According to Emmanuel Lévinas, whenever the Same encounters the Other, an ethical responsibility arises, prompting the Self to recognise its obligation to share the world with the Other (Jodoin Reference Jodoin2008, p. 19; Lévinas Reference Lévinas1991, p. 84). In this context, the idea of rebel environmental order may involve an encounter between the Same (the state) and the Other (ANSAs). Acknowledging the environmental orders that ANSAs establish offers a way to engage with this encounter. However, I do not suggest that such an encounter represents parity or an attempt to define the Other. Rather, the interaction between these two actors must arise from a relationship in which the parties avoid diminishing alterity (Jodoin Reference Jodoin2008, pp. 20–21). Legal scholarship is doing the opposite by overlooking ANSAs’ environmental role and their rebel environmental orders, and by ‘bringing them into’ international law, primarily international humanitarian law (IHL). Arguably, the FARC-EP’s environmental order is part of its alterity, encompassing normative implications that derive therefrom.
The construction of otherness, or othering, involves an actor or group defining itself and establishing its identity by differentiating itself from others. This process can carry negative connotations, particularly when perceived differences – whether real or imagined – are stigmatised and used to justify exclusion. In the context of ANSAs, the othering process is a threefold process. First, it arises from classifying counterparts based on perceived disparities. The grounds for othering are extensive and multi-faceted, but for ANSAs, the predominant basis is their non-state status. This classification is influenced by foundational principles of domestic and international law, including state sovereignty and the limited, often exclusive, nature of international legal personality.
While operating far from the state and, sometimes, in opposition, ANSAs also perform acts of governance traditionally conceived as exclusive to the state. Veronika Bílková introduced the link between otherness and ANSAs’ international legal personality more than a decade ago (Bílková Reference Bílková2010, pp. 111–26). She focused on ANSAs as among the most controversial international entities. International legal personality has served as a means of self-defence to protect a state’s dominance over the Other. As Bílková accurately claimed, the concept of international legal personality structures our ontological paradigm, defining the subjects who possess the capacity to participate, engage and speak in the international legal sphere. According to Bílková, while the theory may help ensure the state’s dominance, it fails to meet the needs of the wider international community (Bílková Reference Bílková2010, p. 113). For the purposes of this article, the international community’s critical needs include environmental protection and peacebuilding efforts in transitional justice scenarios. Nevertheless, Bílková falls short in comprehensively addressing the overarching dimension of ANSAs’ alterity. ANSAs’ otherness extends beyond the mere absence of statehood as its sole determining factor. ANSAs are subjected to diverse and interrelated grounds of othering, ranging from their opposition to established systems, regimes or ideologies to the distinct nature of the violence they employ. All members affiliated with an ANSA are invariably subsumed within the dichotomous ‘us vs. them’ paradigm of conflicts, thereby subjected to categorisation and identification through this lens.
Second, states employ both material and immaterial tactics that frame how law and society perceive war and its actors. The best example of material tactics is the ancient and contemporary practice of building walls. Examples start with the 250 km-long ‘wall of the land’ built around 2,000 BCE between the Tigris and Euphrates by command of Sumerian King Sulgi to keep the barbarian Amorites out (Scott Reference Scott2017, p. 228), and continue with the Berlin Wall and the ongoing Separation Barrier in the occupied Palestinian territories (Backmann and Kaiser Reference Backmann and Kaiser2010; Hursh Reference Hursh2014; ICJ 2004).
Drawing on Judith Butler, materiality not only belongs to guns, bombs or directly destructive instruments of war. Just as she uses the camera as an example of one material instrument capable of framing both human and non-human targets (Butler Reference Butler2010, p. x), I use labelling as an instrument that operates in conjunction with the image, controlling war’s visual and narrative dimensions and delimiting public, social and legal discourses. Reality itself is built through the act of passive reception as well as its interpretation. As Butler claims, states regulate the understanding and representation of violence by directing what aspects of war are to be reported and how war is to be reported (the regulation of perception) (Butler Reference Butler2010, pp. xii, 66).
States’ discourses disseminated through labelling, gossip (Elias and Scotson Reference Elias and Scotson2023) and graphic propaganda (Uribe and Urueña Reference Uribe and Urueña2018) are among the immaterial tools used to construct otherness and, therefore, frame war. States usually resort to labelling ANSAs to heighten suspicion of them, demean them and condemn the use of force, typically perceived as the exclusive prerogative of the state – the sovereign (Roth Reference Roth2004, p. 1019). From psychology, John Horgan claims that terrorist designations, for instance, inherently harbour pejorative connotations, typically ascribed to adversaries, opponents or individuals with opposing views, often with the objective of marginalisation or dismissal (Horgan Reference Horgan2014, p. 16). The misuse of words is a tactic to de-legitimise non-state actors’ use of force and neglect any role they may have as law-and-order providers in fraught societies.
Third, othering encompasses what Tanya Jeffcoat has termed ‘normative hubris’, characterised by the assumption that one way – the state’s way in this case – is the best and only way (Held Reference Held2011, p. 94; Hursh Reference Hursh2014, p. 645). Colombia’s security forces and elites have employed a spectrum of adjectives when alluding to regions under the FARC-EP’s control. Early nomenclature included references to the FARC-EP’s territories as ‘independent republics’ (González Arias Reference González Arias1992) during the early 1960s and later as ‘ungoverned places’ (Cortés Urquijo Reference Cortés Urquijo2017, p. 36). In the broader context of the anti-communist war, the Colombian state then depicted the FARC-EP through propagandist narratives as ‘villainous barbarians, savages and enemies of God, of the homeland and the law’ (Cortés Urquijo Reference Cortés Urquijo2017, p. 58). The subsequent decades (1980 to 2000) bore witness to a distinct characterisation of armed actors in Colombia as ‘narco-terrorists’, a label that effectively disregarded the FARC-EP’s political discourse and relegated it to the status of a mere criminal gang or drug cartel (Gutiérrez Sanín Reference Gutiérrez Sanín2004; Mantilla-Valbuena Reference Mantilla-Valbuena2008). The state’s discourse, which the media helped shape and promote, portrayed the FARC-EP as an ‘unthinkable’ actor, one certainly incapable of establishing a legal order. Therefore, the Colombian state framed the FARC-EP through normative hubris while neglecting the FARC-EP’s political aims, its role as environmental ruler in the areas it controlled and, therefore, its normative creations.
The following sections, by contrast, highlight the FARC-EP’s role as an actor that established a rebel environmental order when it exercised authority in certain territories. Delving into the interaction between the FARC-EP and the environment necessitates a paradigm-shifting examination of how the ‘jungle’ influenced the perception of the FARC-EP as barbaric, lawless and lacking order. By ‘jungle’, this paper refers not only to the physical space where the FARC-EP operated but also a place that challenges the Colombian state’s authority and holds strategic military, economic, political and social value for the parties to the conflict.
2.2 Jungle pariahs: tagging FARC-EP as barbarians and environmental spoilers
To properly address the othering process against the FARC-EP, this section draws on James Scott’s work for two reasons. First, Scott provides an account of how categorising a group of people as barbarians responded to factors such as their location (jungle, forest, mountain) and, thus, their proximity to the domains of state control or influence (the Domus). Second, barbarian, as well as savage, raw, forest people – using Scott’s words – were terms invented in state centres to describe and stigmatise those who had not yet become state subjects. In other words, barbarian is a political category that designates non-state people, or people under no law, who evade or avoid the reach of state authority (Scott Reference Scott2017).
As Scott posited, the state’s rhetoric effectively casts out the jungle, deeming it unsuitable for establishing state institutions and thus categorising it as a ‘barbarian zone’ (Scott Reference Scott2017, pp. 229–30). Any area inherently challenging for state access would qualify as a barbarian zone. Besides, the jungle, the forest and its inhabitants lie beyond the state’s sphere of influence, thereby falling under the same exclusion frame and presenting a challenge to the state’s authority. Nonetheless, as the Colombian state progressively recognised the abundant natural resources within its peripheral regions – outside the Domus in Scott’s terms – the jungle territories the FARC-EP controlled assumed significance as economically valuable landscapes. Thus, changing perceptions about the jungle’s economic value influenced the othering processes against the FARC-EP. In interviews with former FARC-EP commanders, they depict the state as centralist and lacking awareness of the ‘other Colombia’, viewing it primarily through an economic lens (Jorge Torres V., known as ‘Pablo Catatumbo’, 2023).
With the state prioritising economic development policies through, for example, what the state called the mining-energy locomotive (Departamento Nacional de Planeación 2010, pp. 13–18), the jungle was no longer quite a barbaric place. The barbarians were not those who lived in it but those who ‘illegally’ attacked it. The Colombian state no longer spoke of the barbaric FARC-EP in opposition to civilised state people in generic terms; rather, it linked the barbarian designation to the environmental damage the FARC-EP caused through its military actions and financing methods. For decades, FARC-EP’s political aims were reduced to mere discursive rhetoric, while the state tagged them more recently as environmental terrorists and destroyers (El País 2015; Nagle Reference Nagle2004).
Drawing from Butler’s work, being framed is to be set up – the subject of a con. A frame involves orchestrating a false accusation to make it appear true. Thus, to the extent FARC-EP was framed as an environmental terrorist, such a frame should be at least called into question to explore the part that this designation left outside (Butler Reference Butler2010, p. 9). I attempt to break out of the frame by exposing FARC-EP as a provider of environmental law and order in the territories they controlled. Indeed, while the FARC-EP did carry out actions that attacked the environment, it is also necessary to acknowledge an ‘uncomfortable fact’, namely that the state also did so. However, ‘non-state groups that use violence will be guaranteed to run the risk of being labeled “terrorists”’ (Horgan Reference Horgan2014, p. 12). This reflects what Ezequiel Heffes calls the almost inevitable characterisation as a ‘terrorist’ by governmental authorities (Heffes Reference Heffes2023, p. 205).
Framing the FARC-EP as savages or barbarians beyond and outside the state legitimised the Colombian state’s use of mechanisms to punish their alterity, not only with the traditional use of bombs and missiles. The following section focuses on the Colombian institutions’ timid response to the relationship between the FARC-EP and the environment.
3 The limited contribution of transitional justice mechanisms in Colombia
In Colombia, transitional justice institutions, such as the Truth Commission (CEV) and the Special Jurisdiction for Peace (JEP), incorporated a territorial and environmental approach into their mandates (OACP 2016, p. 134). The inclusion of this approach arose as a call, especially from Indigenous Peoples, people of African descent and campesinos (peasants), to address the negative impacts that nature, their territories and their peoples suffered due to the war. In response, both institutions opted to understand the environment as a victim of the Colombian armed conflict and as a rights-bearing entity. This led them to include the need to detail the environmental damages that war caused to guarantee the right to truth and restorative justice.
One would expect an environmental approach to account for a comprehensive relationship between the environment and armed conflict, without assuming it is limited to environmental degradation. To consider that the war only generated environmental damage (damage focus) is nonetheless the ecological perspective on war that the JEP and the CEV adopted, and which this article seeks to challenge by emphasising the environmental order that the FARC-EP created in some areas under its control.
The CEV’s damage focus is reflected in the chapter of its 2022 final report entitled ‘Suffering War and Rebuilding Life: Impacts, Coping and Resistance’. Although the report devotes an entire section to the environmental damages of the conflict, it briefly refers to the relationship between armed actors and nature. Regarding the guerrillas, the CEV briefly mentions potential positive and temporal benefits in certain ecosystems. According to the Truth Commission, civilians perceived the FARC-EP as a regulador ambiental (environmental regulator): Testimonies collected by the Truth Commission show that the FARC-EP actively regulated environmental practices in several regions. In Algeciras, Huila, for instance, community members described how the group set rules on burning and deforestation, protected water sources and wildlife, restricted hunting and illegal mining, and imposed sanctions on those who caused environmental harm (CEV 2022, p. 221).
However, without supplementary information, the Commission stated that the environmental regulation was not a sustained, consistent or coherent practice, thereby avoiding further inquiry into the FARC-EP’s role (CEV 2022, p. 221). The Commission thus arguably missed the opportunity to address ANSAs’ role in environmental protection, thereby jettisoning a more comprehensive version of what happened during the war.
Like the CEV, the JEP is, in theory, charged with breaking the frame of war to move toward sustainable peace. Yet, based on the JEP’s Decision 01 in Case 05, Section 3 argues that the JEP has struggled to move beyond the process of ‘othering’ directed toward the FARC-EP. This perspective clouded the possibility of an in-depth inquiry into the FARC-EP’s environmental role and allowed the damage caused by military actions, and criminal liability, to wrongly monopolise the judges’ discussion. This example highlights significant legal implications concerning the state’s view of ANSAs seemingly representing an ‘illegitimate phenomenon’ (Heffes Reference Heffes2022, p. 29–30).
3.1 JEP Case 05 overview
In 2022, the JEP’s Territorial and Environmental Commission undertook an analysis of the relationship between the armed conflict and the environment, seeking to understand the implications of its duty to investigate and prosecute with a territorial and environmental approach. The commission examined the Colombian Constitutional Court’s 2017 work on the natural environment in the context of armed conflict and transitional justice. Through Decision C-644/17, the Constitutional Court established that while the presence of armed groups (both legal and illegal) in highly biodiverse and ecologically important territories is problematic, their presence can also shield these territories from access by other populations or development projects (Corte Constitucional de Colombia 2017, p. 16.2; Ordóñez Reference Ordóñez2022, pp. 30–31). Consequently, the Commission viewed the relationship between conflict and the environment as multidimensional, recognising the environment as both a cause and a source of financing for the armed groups, as well as a victim and a beneficiary of the conflict. Yet, in 2023, the JEP’s Recognition Chamber published a decision that narrowly categorised the environment as a victim, a source of financing and a means of war (JEP 2023a, par. 1029).
In Decision 01-Case 05, the Recognition Chamber determined that the FARC-EP controlled the territories under investigation, Cauca and Valle del Cauca, and catalogued them as victims of severe environmental harm.Footnote 1 The Chamber interpreted the environmental approach as requiring it to evaluate, analyse and provide evidence of the environmental degradation caused by the armed conflict (JEP 2023a, par. 489). In doing so, the Chamber neglected the multidimensional relationship between the environment and armed conflict. The Chamber adopted what I call a damage-focused approach to understanding the ecological perspective on war in the Cauca and Valle del Cauca Departments. Just as the CEV did, the Chamber provided an incomplete portrayal of the overall reality, failed to consider the sui generis contributions of the FARC-EP and charged crimes with insufficient information.
This decision underscores how the JEP continues the trend of portraying the FARC-EP as environmental spoilers, in this instance, through the judicial system. While the Chamber initially acknowledged the FARC-EP as the de facto environmental authority (JEP 2023a, par. 1040), it also contended that the ANSA had no policies or rules to prevent or mitigate the detailed environmental damage the Chamber portrays (JEP 2023a, par. 492–93). The Chamber explicitly referred to the FARC-EP’s relationship with the environment, asserting that the ANSA had an ambiguous attitude that ultimately led to serious environmental damage through its permissive and direct conduct. The JEP acknowledged that, although the FARC-EP formally portrayed itself as an army with strong environmental convictions—one that even prohibited indiscriminate tree felling—the realities of war told a different story. Nevertheless, the Chamber added, ‘in the heat of the war, the reality was very different. The guerrilla command structure was actively or passively complicit in illegal mining and the expansion of the illegal agricultural frontier’ (JEP 2023a, par. 497).
With such a statement, it is expected that the Chamber would have investigated the FARC-EP’s environmental order in depth, highlighting its rules, addressees, purpose and, finally, the nexus, or lack thereof, between environmental harm and armed conflict. However, the only information that the Chamber succinctly provided was concise testimonies of former members of the group referring to a special tax for mining, a fee for each backhoe in the mines and fees on the coca processing chain (JEP 2023a, par. 493–96).
Instead of taking the FARC-EP’s environmental order seriously, the Chamber merely exposed the FARC-EP as a rent-seeking authority (JEP 2023a, par. 493). Therefore, the Chamber obscured the FARC-EP’s specificity as an environmental actor by reducing its relationship with nature to one of profitability (relación rentística) (JEP 2023a, par. 493). Such a reduction also reveals that the Chamber’s conception of the ecological perspective on war is limited to the extraction of economic gains and environmental destruction, stepping back from the comprehensive understanding of the environment as also a potential beneficiary. The focal point on damages enabled the JEP to concentrate on the FARC-EP’s purely military and economic rapport with the environment, justifying the Chamber’s jurisprudential creation of environmental crimes that three magistrates contested, as well as the indictment of high-ranking FARC-EP members for these crimes.
3.2 Punishing the FARC-EP’s otherness: legal implications
Arguably, the Recognition Chamber’s focus on damage stems from – and leads to – the need to punish and even nullify the challenges historically posed to the state’s legal order by rebels. Despite the FARC-EP’s territorial control, the presumption is that its perceived savage/barbarian nature hindered the adoption of comprehensive environmental regulations, extending beyond considerations of economic gains from activities that, although not directly undertaken, led to environmental degradation in the region. The decision showed the FARC-EP as the unthinkable actor in establishing an order (normative hubris). Due to this perceived destructive savagery, characterised by an absence of adequate environmental regulation, an imperative to impose punitive measures was deemed necessary and legitimate.
Although the purpose is not to evaluate the Chamber’s legal analysis of the crimes it charged, the dissenting opinions opposing the indictment for environmental crimes shed light on the complex legal implications of adopting a damage-focused approach and the limits of the JEP’s strategy in pursuing FARC-EP on that ground. According to the Chamber, in both regions, three activities generated the greatest environmental damage: illegal mining, the agricultural conversion of the area to produce illicit crops and the installation of camps and anti-personnel mines in high mountain ecosystems (JEP 2023a, par. 490–500). In financially benefiting from those activities, the Chamber charged that the FARC-EP had engaged in environmental destruction as a war crime (JEP 2023a, par. 1042).
Three justices filed partial dissenting opinions, claiming a violation of the principle of legality and disagreeing with the Amnesty Chamber’s interpretation of political crimes (Díaz Gómez Reference Díaz Gómez2023; Lemaitre Reference Lemaitre2023, p. 10; Rueda Guzmán Reference Rueda Guzmán2023). According to Justice Julieta Lemaitre, while the decision provides a careful and well-intentioned analysis of the environmental degradation the armed conflict caused, it does not specify how the FARC-EP’s actions (and the defendants) generated the specific damage (Lemaitre Reference Lemaitre2023, p. 12). Lemaitre stressed that the Chamber did not provide specific facts or dates on which a criminal act occurred, indicating its intention to create a crime of environmental degradation. In her words, the Chamber made ‘a moral reproach to the guerrilla’, seeking to document the damage to support future reparations (Lemaitre Reference Lemaitre2023, pp. 2, 12).
Decision 01 has sparked considerable debate, prompting the JEP to convene an event in September 2023 with criminal law experts to deliberate on approaches to crimes against nature and the territory. During this event, Magistrate Raúl Sánchez, who served as the co-rapporteur for Case 05, asserted that, in the investigation, charging environmental destruction as a war crime was not merely a legal obligation but, more significantly, a ‘moral imperative’ (JEP 2023a). Certainly, illegal mining, illicit crops and the use of anti-personnel mines have been an economic drivers of violence, environmental damage and human rights violations. Yet, the decision relies on the continuing necessity of framing the FARC-EP as having a purely profit-driven relationship with the environment, and perhaps, on the imperative and moral duty to impose punitive measures, holding its members accountable, despite questionable legal reasoning.
Arguably, the JEP’s first error was to ignore the civil nature that some of the FARC-EP’s actions linked to the environment may have had, even though the Chamber acknowledged its role as a de facto authority. Therefore, one could also say that the JEP adhered to a broad definition of the nexus between the FARC-EP’s actions and the armed conflict, triggering IHL as the sole legal framework applicable, even when it came to rules addressing everyday life in rebel-held territories. Disregarding the civil nature of ANSAs’ governance activities in their controlled territories was a risky decision that misled legal analysis and arguably resulted in an erroneous imputation of war crimes without establishing a nexus with armed conflict.
Navigating the FARC-EP’s socio-ecological rules, by contrast, would have helped the JEP redirect the judges’ decision. Understanding how and why the FARC-EP intervened in civilian affairs may influence the assessment of the armed actors’ obligations, rights, capacity to comply, sanctions and subsequent reparation measures. This exclusive non-military component also prompts consideration of alternative legal frameworks, challenging the prevailing application of state law, notably IHL.
Nevertheless, it is worth noting that the Chamber established an important, perhaps unintended, precedent. Recognising the FARC-EP as the de facto environmental authority in the region, even in passing, certainly involved a step toward accepting the FARC-EP’s capacity to govern and the existence of international human rights obligations. The Chamber’s acceptance of the FARC-EP’s obligations is evident through its repeated reference to multiple human rights instruments, as well as the lack of distinction in their applicability to both the Colombian state and the FARC-EP. In its argumentation, the Chamber acknowledges the FARC-EP’s human rights violations, including those related to the right to a healthy environment and the communities’ cultural development (JEP 2023a, par. 583, 1005, 1041).
Moreover, the Chamber highlighted the absence of policies or regulations for environmental management, impact reduction or damage prevention resulting from the economic activities conducted in their controlled territories (JEP 2023a, pp. 492–93). These references suggest that, despite the absence of a comprehensive inquiry into the FARC-EP’s environmental order in Cauca and Valle del Cauca, the JEP recognises the need to study ANSA’s environmental order and opens additional doors for scholars to explore further legal implications. For instance, does it mean that the FARC-EP not only could but was bound to establish an environmental legal order and uphold the right to a healthy environment? Can the FARC-EP be considered a de iure environmental authority based on its own regulations?
At any rate, while employing criminal law to hold FARC-EP members accountable for environmental degradation is deemed necessary for the purposes of justice, it continues to fall short of elucidating the FARC-EP’s Janus-faced role in regulating the use, access and administration of natural resources. While the JEP is a judicial entity whose mission is to investigate and prosecute conduct that may amount to crimes, its nature as a transitional justice tribunal could have implied the incorporation of a broader narrative of the war. Perceiving the FARC-EP solely as an environmental terrorist and focusing on their members’ criminal accountability without considering the nature of the rebel orders they created fails to properly guarantee what transitional justice aims for: justice, truth, reparation, memorialisation, non-repetition and reconciliation. If we consider that frames ‘throw something away’/‘keep something out’, then Colombian institutions stigmatised forms of participation in war while de-legitimising alternative versions of legal reality (Butler Reference Butler2010, p. xiii).
Other versions of reality could encompass the FARC-EP’s rebel orders, which, if not taken into account in understanding war, could lead to perpetual conflict and endless resistance. For legal scholarship to adopt a new reading of the relationship between nature and war, it must transcend the perception of the jungle solely as an asset to be preserved for the continuation of warfare. Conversely, the jungle was home to the FARC-EP and the civilian population under the ANSA’s control, which demanded its protection to ensure the continuation of daily life amid war.
4 Rehabilitating the FARC-EP as environmental governance actors
The jungle was the scenario in which most of the FARC-EP’s Fronts developed their military, political, economic, and social authority. Although the focus has been on intentional damage – the environmental degradation as a consequence of the conflict – the relationship between the FARC-EP and nature was not one of destroyer–victim alone. The environment both benefited indirectly and directly from the FARC-EP’s military and non-military actions.
Indirect benefits were primarily derived from the FARC-EP’s purely military strategy. Although that particular ANSA did not explicitly intend them to occur, its daily engagement with nature significantly shaped aspects of its conduct, rhetoric and impact on nature, even in instances unrelated to military operations. Conversely, direct or intended benefits extended beyond the confines of a strictly military context, demonstrating that the FARC-EP existed not only in relation to armed conflict but also in the broader realms of civil and environmental governance. The direct benefits reflect an intentional commitment to environmental protection and conservation within regions under its control, where military operations were relatively subdued. The following segments present the military and non-military components of the symbiotic relationship between the FARC-EP and nature, which, it is argued, are foundational to addressing socio-ecological interactions by regulating the use, access and administration of natural resources as a civil matter.
4.1 The FARC-EP’s relationship with the environment beyond military strategies
The FARC-EP strategically ‘inhabited’ the jungle, effectively establishing that ecosystem as a refuge and, for some, as a weapon (Gómez Zúñiga Reference Gómez Zúñiga2018, p. 112). As a former commander described, the FARC-EP’s relationship with the environment was of a clandestine and military nature. The environment held strategic significance, nearly integral to their operational identity: ‘It was an almost natural component, almost like our own skin. A guerrilla cannot take off its skin to survive in the jungle’ (Baena Jaramillo 2017, p. 68). This portrayal underscores the profound symbiosis between the guerrilla and its natural surroundings, with the jungle assuming a role tantamount to an indispensable protective covering.
The exigencies of warfare gave rise to distinctive practices of habitability, prompting the adaptation of military tactics that were intertwined with nature. The FARC-EP’s military-tactical rationale was tied to the structural organisation of a regular army and to the fusion of local practices and knowledge related to the forest, jungle, waterways and fauna (Gómez Zúñiga Reference Gómez Zúñiga2018, p. 108). While this paper does not expound on norms addressing FARC-EP members themselves, the quotidian interaction between the guerrilla and nature forged intricate connections, which possibly resulted in the need to establish additional guidelines to intentionally preserve the environment that served as their refuge during the conflict. The FARC-EP’s relationship with nature also encompassed political, economic and civil components, resulting in intentional and unintentional consequences, including both environmental damage and benefits.
Nature was deeply embedded in the FARC-EP’s political foundation, centring on land distribution, sovereignty over natural resources and opposition to privatisation and extractivism. The FARC-EP’s political and economic model also moulded its interaction with nature. As a rural and peasant guerrilla, its armed uprising in the mid-twentieth century was motivated by the peasant population’s lack of access to natural resources, especially land (Cárdenas and Rodríguez Becerra Reference Cárdenas and Rodríguez Becerra2004, p. 7; Fajardo Reference Fajardo2015, pp. 8–19; Lavaux Reference Lavaux2004). The FARC-EP’s founding documents refer to land not only as a portion of soil with physical and chemical properties for production, but also to its ecosystemic and social relationship with the population (FARC-EP 1964). The FARC-EP demonstrated an awareness of the rural population’s needs, acknowledging that their satisfaction would arise from access to and responsible use of land. Consequently, the ANSA incorporated notions such as the land’s natural purpose into its vocabulary and implemented measures that influenced the normative relationship with nature.
It is imperative to note that the actor’s political relationship also led to the perception of other natural resources as military assets and sources of financing. Such a perception underlies the well-known attacks on pipelines, which have dominated legal studies and judicial decisions (JEP 2023b, pp. 1019, 1052, 1769). Moreover, the FARC-EP engaged in the exploitation of resources such as gold, considering it a means of financing warfare despite being aware of the adverse environmental impacts. However, the predatory economic relationship with nature was not uniform; it hinged on territorial control and the authority commanding the specific zone. More importantly, it was often counterbalanced when necessity allowed for a more nuanced and diverse engagement with nature conservation.
Last, the civil dimension of the FARC-EP’s operation marks a detachment between a military and a civilian guerrilla component. The civil dimension diverges in that it does not view the jungle merely as a theatre of war; instead, it conceptualises the jungle as a shared home with the population under its control, requiring goods and services that depend on safeguarding the environment. Considering the jungle as a home and natural resources as goods that benefit the population, the FARC-EP held the conviction that they were its guardians, in contrast to the state forces, which were portrayed as jungle invaders and despoilers. This relationship embodies a profound engagement with nature that extends beyond utilitarian considerations, reflecting a genuine appreciation and affection for the environment, thereby imbuing the guerrilla’s interaction with nature with a dimension that transcends immediate military, political or economic strategic objectives.
The military, political, economic and civil dimensions of the FARC-EP’s relationship with nature make it inconceivable that there was no legal framework to regulate it. The Colombian hinterland was, to put it simply, not ungoverned. Instead, the FARC-EP established environmental governance, albeit of a distinct nature from that typically expected of the state. According to former commander París:
‘norms emerged as a natural fact, if you will, as a spontaneous outcome of human coexistence with the natural environment, in the jungle or the countryside, or the mountains or the cordillera […] it was built like the peasant or the indigenous person who lives in the jungle… by intuition, by nature, by survival’ (Baena Jaramillo 2017, p. 62). The civil dimension thus serves as the baseline for understanding the FARC-EP’s rebel environmental order.
4.2 Deliberate regulatory approach: FARC-EP environmental governance
The FARC-EP’s relationship with nature should not be misconstrued as an inherent commitment to environmental protection; rather, it denotes an imperative to regulate it in accordance with the components mentioned above. Despite certain scholars’ assertions that all regulations were the product of a ‘military maneuver’, giving nature a solely strategic role in maintaining the armed conflict (Baena Jaramillo 2017, p. 17), I am reluctant to assert that the FARC-EP’s operations were never truly civilian in character. This subsection develops the idea that the FARC-EP instituted an environmental rebel order and adopted a legal framework to materialise it.
4.2.1 FARC-EP environmental governance
Political scientists consistently reveal that day-to-day life in conflict zones can be much more ordered than commonly perceived, with a ‘reasonable degree of stability’ (Verhoeven Reference Verhoeven2009, p. 414). The growing field of rebel governance offers insights into the different ways in which the FARC-EP provided public goods and services, as well as how the ANSA interacted with civilians. However, the concept of rebel governance is not widely used in international legal discourse. Instead, legal scholars favour terms like de facto governments, organised armed groups exercising control over a territory or quasi-states (Baade et al. Reference Baade, Mührel and Petrov2018; Hamid and Wouters Reference Hamid, Wouters, Hamid and Wouters2021). As the exercise of rebel governance implies the provision of services traditionally considered to be the state’s prerogative (Mampilly and Stewart Reference Mampilly and Stewart2021, p. 15), the linguistic choice transcends mere semantic nuances (Spadaro Reference Spadaro, Fortin and Heffes2023, p. 168). Relying on Spadaro, the legal reluctance to include the concept of rebel governance fails to mirror the reality of war zones and personifies the prevalence of state governance while neglecting ANSA’s alternative methods of establishing order. Moreover, although rebel governance scholarship and the ICRC assert that many ANSAs provide a degree of de facto governance and services in the areas they control, studies often neglect environmental governance, focusing solely on services ranging from the imposition of taxes to the provision of health care, education and legal documentation, as well as justice or dispute resolution mechanisms (Bamber-Zryd Reference Bamber-Zryd2023; Provost Reference Provost2021).
ANSAs’ capacity to install a rebel order is contingent upon various factors. In 2016, Ana Arjona accurately asserted that when an ANSA decides to install a rebel order, it typically revolves around the pursuit of securing and acquiring territorial control. Two determining factors exist for an ANSA to intervene broadly in civilian affairs beyond taxation and security (rebelocracy) (Arjona Reference Arjona2016). First, an ANSA must have a broad time horizon to develop a war plan that aligns with its aspiration to seize power (Heffes Reference Heffes2022, pp. 85–86). The FARC-EP had a long-term horizon, displaying distinct features of a centralised command structure, establishing territorial control across multiple regions and aspiring to overthrow the state through military, political and legal means (Alias ‘Raúl Reyes’ 1999).
The second determining factor refers to the questionable quality of pre-existing local institutions. Establishing a rebel order will be easier when pre-existing institutions are neither legitimate nor effective (Arjona Reference Arjona2016, pp. 67–68). Establishing a rebel order is in sync with cultivating legitimacy and fostering trust and support among the local populace (Arjona Reference Arjona2016, p. 48; Mampilly Reference Mampilly2011, pp. 89–90; Nett and Rüttinger Reference Nett and Rüttinger2016, p. III). Consequently, ANSAs deploy strategies that extend beyond military operations, incorporating the provision of essential services.
Drawing from Arjona’s work, I suggest subsuming this second factor within the territory’s contextual characteristics that facilitate and motivate ANSAs to lean toward a rebelocracy. A territory’s context, encompassing its political and geographical dimensions, assumes a fundamental role in the deliberation and feasibility of instituting a rebel order. Arguably, at least two sub-factors played a critical role in enabling the FARC-EP’s governance activities and shaping the broader conflict dynamics in Colombia: remoteness and statelessness.
The FARC-EP was situated on the periphery of the state’s authoritative control, frequently aligning with areas of pronounced ecological significance (remoteness). Therefore, remote areas with the FARC-EP’s presence were linked to the statelessness narrative, compelling all kinds of actors to ‘get into the business of state formation’ (Ballvé Reference Ballvé2020, p. 9). Drawing from Teo Ballvé, peripheral areas – or ‘frontiers’, as he refers to them – may be understood not merely as borders or limits, but as productive zones where power, economic interests and social relations are re-shaped. He explores how the Urabá region, for instance, is often portrayed in the media as being on the ‘outside of the Colombian state’, depicted as a ‘dystopian Eden’ – lawless, stateless and therefore devoid of governance. However, Ballvé contends that the underlying issue in this region is not the absence of the formal state but rather the emergence of various state-building initiatives, including those of armed groups (Ballvé Reference Ballvé2020, p. 14). He points out that frontier areas, like Urabá, where the Efraín Guzmán Bloc operated, are frequently mischaracterised as lawless or anarchic, leading to what he terms a ‘frontier effect’. This effect suggests that such regions become fertile ground for the development of new governance structures, social order and even state authority, which often emerge and are later either incorporated into or excluded from official state systems.
In regions subjected to a frontier effect, such as Urabá, the FARC-EP emerged in some of its municipalities as the predominant (or only) authority, uniquely positioned to regulate at the fringes of the state’s reach. The Urabá region is recognised for its high ecological importance, owing to its rich biodiversity, unique ecosystems and significant contribution to supporting local livelihoods. While home to protected natural areas, the Urabá region has also served as a refuge for Colombian ANSAs. One of its most significant advantages was the forest as a means of hiding and as a source of gateways to transport drugs, arms and other illegal goods into and out of the country. Urabá’s remoteness and perceived statelessness made the FARC-EP, as well as paramilitary groups, enter the governance and even the state-building business and commit to their state projects (Ballvé Reference Ballvé2020, pp. 9–10).
Colombian environmental institutions have been consistently fragile in remote areas of limited (official) statehood. One contributing factor to the fragility was the meagre financial allocation the environmental sector received, a tangible indicator of its diminished priority within the overarching national policy framework (Rodríguez Garavito et al. Reference Rodríguez Garavito, Rodríguez Franco and Durán Crane2017, p. 87). In frontier effect areas, offices, checkpoints or delegates from governmental environmental agencies, such as the Ministry of Environment, were the exception to an assumed but largely hypothetical rule (Cárdenas and Rodríguez Becerra Reference Cárdenas and Rodríguez Becerra2004, pp. 49, 52). The state withdrew environmental organisations from rural territories despite repeated complaints from civil society regarding the mismanagement of natural resources (Dávalos Reference Dávalos2001). Although the state formulated early environmental policies and established corresponding institutionsFootnote 2 in pivotal phases of the armed conflict, a large part of those measures remained on paper. The Colombian state’s ecological regulations seemed to be a mockery, blaming ANSAs for turning frontier zones into ‘lawless jungles’ of ‘limited governance’ (Cárdenas and Rodríguez Becerra Reference Cárdenas and Rodríguez Becerra2004, pp. 146–59), when this was just as much attributable to the state’s own incapacity.
According to Germán I. Andrade, the governance vacuum over natural resources in Colombia preceded the armed conflict with the FARC-EP. He refers to the recognition of de facto governments that consolidate a ‘normal disorder with forms of social and economic organization that are at odds with the legal and ethical order of the rest of the country’ (Cárdenas and Rodríguez Becerra Reference Cárdenas and Rodríguez Becerra2004, p. 146). Arguably, the FARC-EP took advantage of institutional fragility and communities’ needs to bridge the administrative gap with their own set of environmental norms, positioning itself as the only actor that had the capacity to conserve rural wildlife and biodiversity and therefore as a legitimate alternative environmental authority (Brittain Reference Brittain2010, p. 211).
In conjunction with Arjona’s proposition, the legitimacy of the state and its institutions must be considered in relation to their proximity to the civilian population. While not constituting a prerequisite for establishing a rebel order, such proximity undeniably facilitated its implementation in this case (Spadaro Reference Spadaro, Fortin and Heffes2023, p. 172). In fact, ‘rebel governance rests to various extents on an underlying rebel social contract’ (Arjona Reference Arjona2016, p. 2). Establishing a rebel order is not alien to the interests of the community. There are selective incentives that ANSAs choose to gain support and, therefore, legitimation. Based on various interviews, FARC-EP commanders identified environmental protection as a means to secure goods and services for the group’s members and the inhabitants of the territory under its control (Joverman Sánchez, known as ‘Rubén’, 2023). Civilians’ needs were contingent upon accessing, using and administering natural resources such as land, water and timber. Providing access to drinking water and food availability, among others, increased the actor’s acceptance and recognition as rulers. Echoing Cortés Urquijo’s terminology, environmental protection operated as a social ‘intervention’ aimed at reaching the population’s heart (Cortés Urquijo Reference Cortés Urquijo2017, pp. 37, 88–117).
The paramount foundation for the FARC-EP’s legitimacy, control and governance in specific regions stemmed from their continuous, intimate daily engagement with civilians, starkly contrasting with the sporadic interactions of state environmental institution representatives (Gómez Zúñiga Reference Gómez Zúñiga2018, p. 31; Krieger Reference Krieger2018, p. 569; Schlichte and Schneckener Reference Schlichte and Schneckener2015, p. 416). Militia structures and even the FARC-EP’s commanders were part of daily life in its controlled territories. The group wove relationships with the civilian population for generations, resulting in support networks known as familias farianas (FARC-EP families) in regions such as Antioquia (Centro Nacional de Memoria Histórica 2017, pp. 158, 284; Macías Reference Macías2012).
The FARC-EP established a rebel order in controlled territories subject to a frontier effect. The FARC-EP behaved as a multidimensional authority, engaging in environmental service provision and consistently and deliberately promulgating policies, norms and sanctions (Cortés Urquijo Reference Cortés Urquijo2017). The FARC-EP assumed the role of a government ‘in the middle of the jungle’, where the state was perceived to be absent and lacked legitimacy (Gómez Zúñiga Reference Gómez Zúñiga2018, p. 37). ‘We were the government!’ a former commander exclaimed (Jorge Torres V., known as ‘Pablo Catatumbo’, 2023). The FARC-EP thus installed a rebelocracy, enabling the insurgency to have a major say in civilian affairs far from military or war-related issues. The resulting system encompassed both the structure of providing goods and services and a range of associated practices. Those practices incorporated the use of law by regulating individuals’ everyday lives and socio-ecological relations.
4.2.2 FARC-EP’s law-making: a tool for developing governance functions over natural resources
It is not novel to say that ANSAs may play both the governed and the governor’s roles. Yet, the tensions that rebel governance creates, as ANSAs subject people to their own laws and operate in the shadowland between national and international law, are part of an ongoing conversation (Fortin and Heffes Reference Fortin and Heffes2023, pp. 8, 10). In particular, can the FARC-EP’s rules be considered law? ‘Within the boundaries of a nation-state, there is more than one “law” or legal system’ (Davies Reference Davies2010, p. 805). This section draws on legal pluralism theory to acknowledge rebel law as a legal order that overlaps with and challenges state law (Griffiths Reference Griffiths1986, p. 3; Merry Reference Merry1988).
The FARC-EP’s relationship with nature was embodied in the actor’s political discourse (Calsamiglia Blancafort and Tuson Reference Calsamiglia Blancafort and Tuson1999), which, in turn, came to life through the formulation of codes, laws and guidelines. As a former FARC-EP commander said, ‘defending the common goods of nature was part of our doctrine’ (Aponte et al. Reference Aponte, Ebus and Vargas Reina2022, p. 27). The FARC-EP imposed (or suggested, as they claim) a series of rules on the civilian population within its controlled territories to materialise its rebel order. Yet, ‘not in all areas we produced rules, it was where we had more influence and political transcendence. It was where secrecy was kept’ (Martín Cruz Vega, known as ‘Rubín Morro’, 2023).
Essentially, ANSAs navigate various legal frameworks, some of which are self-created when undertaking military and non-military endeavours (Fortin and Heffes Reference Fortin and Heffes2023, p. 2; Sivakumaran Reference Sivakumaran2009). One of the little-explored characteristics of the FARC-EP is that all its structures, regardless of size or location, created, disseminated and enforced written, verbal and graphic rules regarding natural resources. The FARC-EP therefore adopted the role of environmental legislator, which led to its integration into the local culture and its positioning, not only as a permanent provider of state services but also as an aesthetic and cultural referent (Gómez Zúñiga Reference Gómez Zúñiga2018, p. 25).
Echoing Tamanaha, law is understood here as whatever people identify and treat through social practices as ‘law’ (Tamanaha Reference Tamanaha2000, p. 313). The attention is therefore placed on the regulatory content of the rule, how social actors perceive it and its enforceability. This definition shifts away from formal considerations focused on the decision-making process behind adopting a norm and the sovereign nature of the state in question (Heffes Reference Heffes2023, p. 194). Civilians perceived and referred to the FARC-EP as an environmental regulator (CEV 2022, p. 221). No other guerrillas in Colombia or the state Armed Forces (except for the units created for specific environmental purposes) had such a degree of influence on socio-ecological relations. Therefore, if we adopt a ‘legal pluralistic’ approach, FARC-EP environmental rules can be categorised as law, given their widespread social reception and acceptance. Despite its controversial activities, the Efrain Guzmán Bloc enacted protective environmental rules and legislation, creating a parallel environmental legal system that operated alongside the territorial state. Arguably, its Fronts adopted an environmental order that operated on internal, border and external dimensions.
I use the term ‘internal dimension’ to refer to the norms that delineate the conduct expected from ANSAs in their interactions with nature. Despite the absence of explicit directives to prioritise environmental stewardship within the overarching national military discipline regulations, the interviewees reported that it was done in practice:
‘It might not have been a nationally established rule, but it was clear in practice. Empirically, it was Central High Command who set the tone – they said we must not destroy nature, we must not contaminate the water, and we must not kill animals we aren’t going to eat’ (Martín Cruz Vega, known as ‘Rubín Morro’, 2023).
Although this article does not concentrate on internal norms, it is worth noting that Blocs such as the Efraín Guzmán and Jorge Briceño (Eastern Bloc) incorporated measures within their Particular Internal Regime related to order and cleanliness at campsites, which had environmental benefits on a very localised scale (Joverman Sánchez, known as ‘Rubén’, 2023; Gómez Zúñiga Reference Gómez Zúñiga2018, p. 88).
One frequently mentioned rule pertains to the construction of permanent or temporary habitation sites (camps) with minimal environmental impact. The camps and ‘caletas’ (beds) were to be built ecologically – that is, with the necessary cutting of wood and the obligation to reforest upon departure:
‘The deforestation we carried out in the camps was minimal – just cutting a few trees, maybe, to cook or build our caletas. But whenever we moved to a new location, we had to leave everything as if nothing had ever happened. We even had to replant trees.’ (Iván, known as ‘Tulio’, 2023).
Furthermore, waste disposal guidelines stipulated the burial of human waste and garbage in designated holes:
‘We used to dig pits to dispose of garbage. You’d open a hole, collect all the waste there during your stay, and then cover it with soil – that was it, completely sealed. It was the same for going to the bathroom. We had what we called chontos – those were our toilets. You’d dig a hole and keep the soil to the side. Each time you used it, you’d cover your waste with some of that soil until it was completely filled in. Once one chonto was full, you’d seal it off and dig a new one. That was the routine.’ (Verónica, known as ‘Yuri’, 2022)
Discarding waste in water sources was forbidden, particularly when troops were positioned upstream; the garbage would eventually flow downstream and could alert others to their presence and lifestyle, as well as contaminate waterways. While the mentioned measures respond, in turn, to the military component of the relationship with nature and the strategy of leaving no trace (trillo), they also encapsulate values of their own. According to alias ‘Tulio’, the optimal approach to leaving no trace and surviving is to preserve the environment. Interviewees refer to those values as part of the ecological importance of daily life that the commanders instilled. A measure reflecting a group value beyond immediate military gain was the ban on indiscriminate hunting, even enforced by the Secretariat, especially for endangered species. In testimonies, members described themselves as guardians of nature, contrasting their practices with the military’s, which they accused of damaging the forest due to their lack of dependence on the jungle: ‘The army was given everything – shelter, food, medicine. In contrast, we did our best to avoid harming nature, because it was our protector.’ (Iván, known as ‘Tulio’, 2023).
One can also categorise border norms as regulating interactions with state institutions or opposing ANSAs. Typically, border norms reflected the FARC-EP’s objective to establish itself as a political authority and adopt an economic model divergent from that of the state. The environmental border norms operated on three levels: mobility, conservation initiatives and prohibitions on activities. Notably, there were instances where, even in the absence of specific FARC-EP norms, the actor would conform to state law, contributing to its effective implementation. In this dimension, the FARC-EP specifically addressed concerns related to limitations on activities within state-declared environmental protection zones or areas that, without official state declaration, FARC-EP recognised as protected in the community’s interest: ‘Yes, we had conservation zones too – like La Esmeralda, Río Verde, and El Tigre. In many places, people and companies were told not to enter because those areas needed protection to help preserve the planet’s oxygen.’ (Adriana, known as ‘la Feme’, 2023).
Unlike a specific manual or code providing directives for formulating environmental rules within ANSA structures, the border and external rules were contextual and not always written. Although scholarship focuses on what I call internal rules, Sivakumaran and Heffes have briefly mentioned external rules, or in their terms, ‘legislation’ (Heffes Reference Heffes2023, pp. 194, 200; Sivakumaran Reference Sivakumaran2011, p. 5). This dimension enables us to see that ANSAs’ law is not limited to IHL and may address a range of issues, including environmental protection. I employ external rules to refer to environmental norms addressed to the civilian population. The Fronts referred to them as operational orders or orientations.
Based on the collected data, external rules varied in each Bloc and Front. They were adjusted based on elements such as military stability, individuality, ecosystemic context and the interplay between the community and the ANSA (Rodríguez Fierro Reference Rodríguez Fierro2020, p. 80; Suárez Reference Suárez2017, pp. 40–41). Despite the FARC-EP central authority contributing to the political foundation for normative expansion in territories, commanders’ values played a pivotal role in shaping environmental regulations. The Blocs and Fronts’ commanders developed FARC-EP’s environmental legislation. As a reflection, Jóverman Sánchez former commander of the 58th Front, stated:
‘We had general regimes and specific regimes – national plans, Bloc plans, Front plans. Each commander, or each Front’s leadership, had the autonomy to create their own regime and plan. The Fronts weren’t uniform. At the national level, they couldn’t just say, “You must do X or Y across all fronts.” For example, the 36th Front mostly operated in dairy-producing regions and densely populated areas. We, in the 58th, operated in both jungle terrain and areas with large populations. So, the 36th couldn’t have the same kind of regime we had – ours was adapted to the jungle, even though we were part of the same Bloc. The general guidelines were there, right? They laid out everything about natural resources – renewable and non-renewable. That was it. I had to study them closely, strip them down to their essence, and say, “This is what we must do.”’ (Joverman Sánchez, known as ‘Rubén’, 2023).
The Blocs and Fronts often engaged in dialogue and complemented existing community institutions, generating a ‘checks and balances’ system that empowered the civilian population to express its needs and shape the ANSA’s behaviour. They adopted inclusiveness as a form of responsiveness by rebel governments to the preferences of the civilian population (Weinstein Reference Weinstein2006, p. 165). Community-led institutions filled the state’s differential and frequently repressive presence in frontier effect zones in Colombia. Regarding the FARC-EP’s environmental rules, they were closely tied to the role of community-led institutions. The Community Action Boards (Juntas de Acción Comunal, or JAC), the Environmental Committees and the Coexistence Committees were among them.
Most environmental external rules resulted from a formulation process involving community participation via the JACs (Brittain Reference Brittain2010, p. 211):
‘With the environment, we also created general rules of coexistence with the population – not by imposing them. We also complied with them. That’s the difference between us and those who now call themselves the “authentic FARC.” We would say, “Look, we have this opinion, discuss among yourselves and decide!”’ (Martín Cruz Vega, known as ‘Rubín Morro’, 2023).
While the FARC-EP facilitated the formulation process, the community discussed, debated and agreed on the rules, commonly known as the Rules of Coexistence. Their name reflects the close relationship with the population and the ANSA’s intent to present them as part of a participatory process rather than an imposition. Although the Rules of Coexistence were almost always written, the ANSA did not directly appear as the issuer or signatory whenever they were integrated into the Board’s official documents, especially for the sake of the population’s safety (Bloque José María Córdova, Frente Aurelio Rodríguez-FARC-EP 2007; Martín Cruz Vega, known as ‘Rubín Morro’, 2023).
External rules go beyond the Rules of Coexistence. For instance, the 58th Front wrote booklets documenting daily-life concerns, including the ‘Guide for the Proper Functioning and Protection of the Environment’ (Johnson Reference Johnson2019): ‘A norm tells us what must or must not be done – it brings order. The booklets explained how things worked, even detailing how to organize a party. I have 14 FARC booklets covering all kinds of topics, including nature.’ (Joverman Sánchez, known as ‘Rubén’, 2023). The booklets outlined orientations, such as mountain conservation during land colonisation, and mandated each vereda Footnote 3 to install an Environmental Committee. The Environmental Committees served as coordinating bodies, handling environmental concerns from civilians and coordinating with the FARC-EP on permit decisions, particularly those related to forest clearing (Johnson Reference Johnson2019). Within the 58th Front’s guiding documents, it was possible to identify five prominent themes in the external environmental norms.
The initial theme pertained to safeguarding animal species, driven by concerns about their endangered status or scarcity as a food source. Certain species, such as the tapir, deer and guagua, were consistently highlighted as requiring protection and were subject to hunting bans, particularly in commercial hunting. However, exceptions were made for family consumption (Rodríguez Fierro Reference Rodríguez Fierro2020, p. 80; Taussig Reference Taussig2003, p. 142–43). Additionally, the Bloc put in place norms forbidding fishing practices that involved poison or explosives:
‘We enforced fishing and hunting bans. Nets had to allow smaller fish to escape, and hunting species like the endangered guagua was only allowed for basic sustenance. Outsiders couldn’t hunt in the area, and we banned the use of poison, commonly used by Indigenous people’ (Jorge Torres V., known as ‘Pablo Catatumbo’, 2023).
The second theme involved the contentious oversight of mining extraction. While Front commanders voiced opposition to mineral extraction during the interview, they exhibited a more flexible stance when mining was community-led, as opposed to that conducted by foreign companies with state permits (FARC-EP 2013, p. 39). In the territories where illegal mining was taking place, the FARC-EP prohibited the discharge of chemical waste into the water. However, one interviewee noted that it was complicated to regulate, having to mediate between economic interests and the protection of water sources: ‘We didn’t always prohibit mining, but we saw that fish were changing in mining sites. The water was becoming polluted, and at the same time, mining also requires water. So how do we protect it?’ (Martín Cruz Vega, known as ‘Rubín Morro’, 2023). Indeed, the FARC-EP’s control of mineral extraction practices was uneven. As mentioned above, the JEP focused on the FARC-EP’s regulation of criminal mining (JEP 2023b, pp. 1067, 1081, 1096–97). Yet, the ANSA’s mining rules encompassed a broad spectrum, including social, economic and environmental aspects (Rodríguez Fierro Reference Rodríguez Fierro2020, p. 80).
The third topic pertained to deforestation. Diverging from prevalent local practices, where farmers commonly sought to expand their landholdings by ‘knocking down trees with chainsaws’ or setting fire to the plot, no individual was allowed to engage in tree-cutting without explicit permission from a commander (Cortés Urquijo Reference Cortés Urquijo2017, p. 102). The rules occasionally delved into specificities to delimit ecosystem elements. There were degrees of specificity depending on the ecological and spatial context. Sometimes, it went to broad levels of precision, by species or family size. For instance, former commanders refer to regulations stipulating the preservation of 40 per cent to 50 per cent of forests, contingent on the land’s size and the number of family members (Jorge Torres V., known as ‘Pablo Catatumbo’, 2023). Additionally, to curb deforestation, the Bloc established environmental protection zones through community agreements, delineating the area’s designated use for cultivation or housing. These measures aimed to safeguard the agricultural frontier, bolster the fight for food sovereignty and the principle of Buen Vivir (good living),Footnote 4 while recognising the community’s survival needs (FARC-EP 2019):
‘When it came to logging, we warned them – and now they see we were right. They’re running out of water and wood. I told them, “You focus only on cattle, but soon you won’t even have a tree to build a house or fix a fence. This is a valuable natural resource – use it wisely so it doesn’t disappear”’ (Joverman Sánchez, known as ‘Rubén’, 2023).
The Bloc integrated deforestation control with safeguarding water sources, constituting the fourth environmental regulation concern. As an illustration, the Bloc mandated a ten to fifty metre distance between pastureland and water sources to mitigate erosion of watercourses (Iván, known as ‘Tulio’, 2023; Joverman Sánchez, known as ‘Rubén’, 2023). Water source protection was also linked to the fifth issue: waste disposal. For instance, the 58th Front regulated the disposal of human, organic, inorganic and chemical waste – for example from coca plantations. Although the FARC-EP did not oppose the cultivation of marijuana and coca, in the late 1980s, the FARC-EP started to regulate all activities surrounding coca and cocaine production extensively. The commanders specifically prohibited dumping waste from the laboratories into the water and burning it. On the contrary, they ordered the use of jars in which the waste was to be stored and buried: ‘Peasants often dumped pesticide containers in fields or near water sources, which then washed into rivers. We banned this practice – everything with poison had to be buried to protect the water. Some accepted the rule willingly’ (Joverman Sánchez, known as ‘Rubén’, 2023). There was also a rule that most Blocs adopted: for every hectare planted with coca, it was mandatory to plant two hectares with food crops (Joverman Sánchez, known as ‘Rubén’, 2023).
Legal pluralism contributes to articulating how regimes co-exist, interact and intersect (Provost Reference Provost2018, p. 232). The FARC-EP’s environmental rules cohabited with Colombian state law. Geoffrey Swenson introduces a new framework to conceptualise legal pluralism in armed conflict scenarios through four distinctive archetypes of interaction between ANSAs’ and the state’s legal systems – combative, competitive, co-operative and complementary (Swenson Reference Swenson2018, p. 443–46). However, classifying the FARC-EP’s environmental legal system into a single archetype is difficult. Specifically, elements of the combative and complementary archetypes are present in the external dimension. The FARC-EP’s external environmental rules were not necessarily hostile to the state. The absence of the state opened the door for the FARC-EP to establish itself as a unique environmental ruler. Thus, the state de facto accepted the external environmental norms of the ANSA, which retained autonomy and environmental authority. However, regarding border rules, a discernible dynamic is characterised by combat and competition. Border rules may have frequently been at odds with the state’s economic interests. Swenson’s archetypes, therefore, interplay depending on the rule’s nature.
Finally, legal pluralism theory offers an initial step towards recognizing that both states and ANSAs may exercise similar law-making functions. Arguably, viewing ANSAs as legislators implies acknowledging supplementary sources of law, including additional sources of obligations with which ANSAs feel represented. Such a representation is an obstacle that state-centric international law has yet to overcome, despite notable attempts to do so (Baron-Mendoza and Janssens, Reference Baron-Mendoza and Janssens2025). Although acknowledging ANSAs’ rules as law is not essential for their existence, it would encourage dialogue between conflict parties and enhance the protection of individuals in NIACs, thus consistent with what is required from IHL and international human rights law. I am not pretending to legitimise or equalise states with ANSAs; what I am promoting is a more progressive international law that considers other sources of law that, in practice, govern people’s lives. This section suggested room for a considerable degree of law creation on the margins of the state amid an ongoing conflict, but with unmistakable political, legal and environmental dimensions.
5 Final remarks
This paper broadened the ecological perspective on war by unveiling what underlies the perception of FARC-EP as environmental spoilers. When states employ terminology such as ‘bandits’, ‘criminals’ and ‘terrorists’ to refer to ANSAs, they engage in an othering process that regulates the perception of war and neglects ANSAs’ alterity. The FARC-EP’s environmental order is a part of its alterity, which I have suggested needs to be acknowledged and understood on its own terms. The paper accordingly delved into the multiple dimensions of that particular ANSA’s relationship with nature and portrayed environmental protection as a new and distinct facet of rebel governance. A prolonged territorial control strategy, remoteness and statelessness mediated the establishment of the FARC-EP’s environmental order. The FARC-EP order included the structure of providing environmental services, as well as practices that incorporated the use of law by regulating socio-ecological relations.
Although Colombian transitional justice institutions have only timidly accepted the FARC-EP as (illegal) regulators, they continue to frame war and its actors through a biased ecological perspective that foregrounds the state and is dismissive of the ability of ANSAs to have any ecological dimension beyond harm production. As long as states keep framing ANSAs as pure outcasts, their actions will be seen as uniquely criminal, and their activities will be seen as spoilage. Such a limited ecological perspective on war generates an incomplete story that jettisons the idea of the FARC-EP as a law-and-order provider, and the manifold roles of an actor engaged in more than warfare vis-à-vis civilians and nature. This can lead to crucial failures in the criminal and transitional justice systems due to the inability to recognise some of the complexity of ANSAs and their potential legal and environmental roles. A legally pluralist perspective on ANSAs’ governance, by contrast, highlights the extent to which they shaped their legal and ecological environment in ways that ought to be understood for what they are if one is to make progress toward justice, truth, reparation, non repetition and reconciliation.
Legal questions arising from the recognition of ANSAs’ rebel orders remain largely unanswered. Can rebel law, for instance, be regarded as a source of rights and obligations within the framework of international law? What forms of interaction exist between ANSAs’ environmental legal orders and international law? And, more ambitiously, what spaces might exist for legal dialogue, where armed conflict is not longer seen as an impediment to the implementation of environmental protection measures? This article should be viewed as a starting point for a broader theory of ANSAs as environmental and legal actors. Still, it hopes to have been a provocation for legal scholarship to continue analysing the role of ANSAs in environmental protection.
Competing interests
Laura Baron-Mendoza is a PhD candidate at McGill University and a member of the Centre for Human Rights and Legal Pluralism. She also serves as a legal consultant for various organizations. The views expressed in this article are her own and do not represent those of any institution with which she is affiliated.
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