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For The Washington Post 
7h ago
Megan Janetsky and Anthony Faiola
Medellín, Colombia – One January morning in the foothills of the Andes, Gonzalo Cardona Molina gave his daughter a goodbye hug, hopped on his 2015 Yamaha motorcycle and headed to the habitat of the elusive long-eared parrot.
Cardona had spent two decades raising the rare bird, a species once thought extinct. Now they numbered in the thousands, and he was their protector, the overseer of the wild preserve in this South American nation where they thrived again. A reserve that borders one of the most notorious drug routes in Colombia.
“God willing, I’ll be back soon,” the 55-year-old told his daughter.
Three days later, a search party found his body in a shallow grave with two bullets in the chest. His murder was the latest in a deadly wave of killings of environmentalists in Colombia, a nation where they are rapidly becoming almost as endangered as the species they strive to protect.
Authorities are treating him as one in a long line of killings of community activists by resurgent armed groups and other actors as an unstable moment of peace slides away. In this war-weary nation of 50 million, the 2016 peace accords between the government and the left-wing guerrillas of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, known as the FARC, are collapsing, sparking renewed violence as dissident fighters. , right-wing paramilitaries and criminal gangs. battle over the routes of trafficking, illegal mining and illegal logging.
“Environmentalists like Gonzalo operate in areas where there is a struggle for territory,” said Alex Cortés, founder of ProAves, who worked with Cardona for two decades. “Environmentalists become an obstacle.”
It’s not just environmentalists. An estimated 310 activists – indigenous leaders, community mobilizers and others who got in the way of armed groups – were killed last year in Colombia, the highest death toll since the signing of the peace agreement, according to the group of human rights based in Bogotá. Indepaz.
“We have seen a marked increase in violence, and this is reflected not only in the killings of human rights defenders, but also in the number of threats and attacks,” said Juliette de Rivero, representative of the UN Office of the Commissioner. of Human Rights Rights in Colombia.
In one of the most biologically diverse countries in the world, environmentalists are being targeted in their efforts to preserve sensitive habitats used by drug traffickers and armed gangs, and their activism against legal and illegal mining, agriculture, and extraction. fossil fuel and hydroelectric plants and dams. Sometimes they are simply unwanted eyes and ears in remote regions where the Colombian government is largely absent and illicit activities thrive.
“The cause of death for Gonzalo and many other leaders is not because they even denounced the presence of armed groups or denounced them, it is because of their very presence,” said a Colombian government official familiar with the case who spoke about the condition. of anonymity for fear of reprisals by armed groups.
“They are people who protect nature, they are also out there constantly observing. That is uncomfortable for the armed groups.”
Statistics on their murders vary. London-based Global Witness ranked Colombia the deadliest country in the world for environmentalists in 2019 with 64 murders. 2020 appears to have been at least as deadly, the group said.
That violence is a scourge of decades ago. But as activists increasingly come into conflict with legal and illegal interests in rural areas, and as security forces step back during the coronavirus pandemic, observers see a deadly increase.
In January, Francisco Vera, 11, who drew attention by speaking to lawmakers about the dangers of fracking, single-use plastic and animal abuse, a kind of Greta Thunberg from Colombia, received anonymous threats.
“I want to hear him scream while I cut his fingers, to see if he continues to talk about environmentalism,” said a threat from an anonymous Twitter account.
Colombia’s Environment Minister Carlos Eduardo Correa says the government has made progress against illegal deforestation and is moving to protect activists.
Attacks on environmentalists “should not occur in Colombia or anywhere in the world, less against leaders like Gonzalo, who gave everything for nature,” he told The Washington Post. “Gonzalo worked hard for the conservation of birds. He leaves an important legacy.”
While the Colombian government primarily blames armed groups for the violence, others associate it with legal companies and extractive projects. The Business and Human Rights Resource Center reported last year that 44 percent of attacks against human rights defenders were against activists who expressed concern about just five companies.
Cardona, who managed the Roncesvalles Andean Parrot Reserve in the center of the Tres Cordilleras mountain range in western Colombia, worked for 20 years to save the endangered long-eared parrot. The mustachioed environmentalist, known for his perpetual smile, traveled from town to town, speaking to schools and communities about the importance of protecting birds and the wax palms in which they nest and flourish.
“She loved the birds more than her own life,” said Kelly Rojas, her 36-year-old daughter.
The yellow-eared parrot is believed to have died until 1999, when a small group was discovered near the city of Cardona. Cortés, from ProAves, and a small team traveled to Roncesvalles in search of the bird. There they met Cardona, the son of a local farmer. He was eager to join their efforts.
Cardona had a fifth grade education. But he became a self-taught naturalist, learning to detect different species of birds. He devoured texts on conservation.
“He would sit and read and read and read,” Rojas said.
He managed the parrot reserve for 15 years, protecting 12,300 acres of habitat and wetlands. He rode his motorcycle through thousands of miles of unpaved back roads, tracking bird populations and replanting wax palm seedlings in the surrounding mountains. The yellow-eared parrot grew from 100 birds to 2,900 in the Tres Cordilleras region alone. Researchers at Newcastle University last year credited Cardona and ProAves with saving the species.
The region has long been a hotbed for drug, arms and human trafficking. When Cardona began his conservation work, he and the other researchers were frequently caught between the sides of Colombia’s brutal civil war. Cortés said they often had to ask armed groups for permission to work in the area.
The peace accords brought a temporary hiatus, but the violence has returned with a roar.
Members of the dissident FARC group known as Compañía Adán Izquierdo have established a stronghold in the region, according to local and national authorities. Paramilitary gangs have also been crossing the highways, provoking clashes across the territory.
The Colombian Prosecutor’s Office confirmed that Cardona’s death is being investigated as the murder of a social leader by armed groups. The office declined to provide further details, citing an ongoing investigation.
Shortly after Cardona’s disappearance, family and friends organized a search party. Leader Salomón Muñoz said his inquiries to locals drew terrified looks.
“They didn’t say anything; everyone had their mouths shut,” he said. “There was this fear.”
An investigator saw fresh dirt and gravel under a patch of trees. Muñoz said he felt his stomach clench as he knelt down and plunged his hands into the ground.
“The first thing that appeared was his face,” he said.
When Muñoz and a funeral director brought the body back to be buried, he said, they found what looked like an entire town in mourning. At the funeral, Muñoz sang a song he wrote to celebrate the parrots.
“I sang with all my love in the church, while they threw him into the ground, while they buried him,” Muñoz said. “Fly, fly, my little bird. Fly to the sky in peace.”
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