Deaglán de Bréadún, Foreign Affairs Correspondent, returns to Bogotá for the latest hearing in the trial of the Colombia Three and finds a city on edge
Glance up from your coffee. An armed soldier in helmet and combat gear is guarding the door. He and his comrade search people coming through, carrying shopping bags. When you check in, the hotel gives you a piece of paper in Spanish and halting English which says, "In case of any person approaches you on the street pretending they are the police, please return to the Hotel before answering any questions and contact the Front Desk or Security in order to receive the orientation."
Nobody seems to know which restaurant in this vast complex had the suitcase bomb planted in it last December. Some parliamentarians were attending a function there and several people were injured, none fatally. A taxi-driver mutters disingenuously that it was four or five blocks away. This is also the place where the wife and family of Pablo Escobar stayed, shortly before the notorious drug baron was assassinated.
They say that when God made Colombia he created the most beautiful country on earth but allowed it to be plagued with murder and mayhem. For almost 40 years now, a civil war has raged between the forces of the state and various guerrilla armies. More recently, a third factor has entered the equation: fearsome bands of right-wing paramilitaries who are said to take macabre delight in killing.
Even in the eight weeks since my last visit to Bogotá, the rise in tension is palpable. The great fear is that the war waged in the countryside for decades by the guerrillas of the FARC (Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia) is now about to come to the cities. A colleague who is resident in Bogotá tells how she taunted a leader of the FARC that, "When you attack I shall be waiting for you in the country club with my drink in my hand."
Inequality is rife in Latin America and Colombia is no exception. The grinding poverty of the campesino peasants generated the great anger which fuelled the decades-long rebellion. The FARC has 18,000 soldiers, who are said to be better armed than the Colombian army. It is one of the biggest and arguably the richest rebel forces on the planet.
Analysts differ on the nature of the link between FARC and the obscenely profitable trade in illegal drugs. Some say it is at worst a matter of collecting revenue from drug traffickers while urging the peasants to grow other crops instead of the coca leaf which is the raw material of cocaine.
Others sneer at this as naïve and say that, whereas the revolutionary dream may still be alive at the highest level, middle-ranking commanders are coining it from the drugs trade on the basis that if they don't meet the ravenous US demand for cocaine, someone else will.
Cocaine is to Colombia what oil is to Saudi Arabia, with the difference that one commodity is legal, the other not. It is reported that 20 illicit planeloads of cocaine take off every day from Colombia, mainly ending up in American nasal passages.
Another Colombian statistic: kidnappings average one every three hours. Even a reporter and photographer covering the trial of the so-called "Colombia Three" were kidnapped by the one of the rebel factions last month but were later released.
I am here for the latest instalment in the trial of James Monaghan (56), Martin McCauley (40) and Niall Connolly (36), who are charged with training the FARC in IRA bomb-making techniques and with using false passports.
Although it is my second visit, at this writing I still have not set eyes on these men. They have not turned up in court because, we are told, they do not believe they can get a fair trial and have no confidence in the Colombian judicial system.
Fianna Fáil Senator Mary White, who is attending the trial in a personal capacity as an observer, this week called on Foreign Affairs Minister Brian Cowen to discuss the trial "face to face" with the authorities in Bogotá. She said the Minister should raise the issue of comments by a former Colombian president, Andres Pastrana, and the head of the country's armed forces, Gen Fernando Tapias, who linked the men to the IRA.
Monaghan is a well-known Irish republican said to have deeply-felt left-wing views and an interest in Third World issues. Connolly has a background in development work and, despite initial denials by the party, was finally acknowledged to be the Sinn Féin representative in Havana, Cuba.
They were arrested on August 9th, 2001, at Bogotá's El Dorado airport as they were about to board an Air France flight to Paris. The authorities say they were carrying false passports: Monaghan and McCauley had British ones, Connolly's was Irish.
They had just travelled from the then-demilitarised zone, an area the size of Switzerland which was officially ceded to FARC for a period, as part of the now-moribund Colombian peace process. Someone had tipped off Colombian military intelligence that the trio were coming through and they were picked up and whisked off to military detention.
The three men claim they were in the FARC zone simply as tourists and to study the peace process. Their opponents greet this with derision, claiming in the words of a republican of the US variety that there is "no benign explanation for their presence there".
Whatever the truth - and their supporters point out that they are entitled to be presumed innocent until proven guilty - the Colombia Three were definitely in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Ireland may be a long way away, but different Colombians have taken an interest in the case, from opposing viewpoints. Before each session of the trial, a group of protesters appears outside the courthouse chanting rhythmically in English, "IRA, take your bombs away and don't come back another day!" The leader of the group is Rodrigo Obregon, actor and journalist. He has appeared in 37 Hollywood films, the latest being Collateral Damage with Arnold Schwarzenegger.
"International terrorism should keep their hands out of Colombian struggles. We have enough with our local murderers. The FARC have a mastery of murder: they don't need extra expertise. They have wreaked havoc and left a wake of destruction and death in Colombia for the last 40 years," he says.
Another perspective is held by Agustin Jimenez (38), a human rights activist and lawyer who has been involved in defence work for the Colombia Three, although he does not represent them in court. Much of his work appears to involve trade union or citizens' rights and I was curious as to why his Foundation for Solidarity with Political Prisoners had become involved with the Colombia Three case.
"We believe that anyone in the world who is charged with a crime is entitled to a defence, the presumption of innocence and due process. We also believe anyone accused by a state of being its enemy deserves special attention, because the state can use all its power to violate their rights and to violate the law."
This is a "very important" case, he says: "It shows world opinion how bad the system of justice is in Colombia."
But why should any Colombian be interested in these three Irishmen? "We believe they were being used against the peace process in Colombia. The authorities tried to pretend there was a case against them, to try and pressurise the FARC." The negotiations had reached a stage where the economic roots and inequalities which gave rise to the conflict were being discussed and he claimed the wealthy Colombian establishment was looking for an excuse to undermine the process.
The case of the three Irishmen was a good excuse for the establishment as it could be used to bolster the argument that the FARC was not sincere about the quest for peace but wanted to seize power by force, Jimenez says.
I hardly need add that the Colombia Three case has implications for the Irish peace process too. The trial has often been a combination of farce and melodrama as witnesses either failed to turn up or refused to give evidence.
Observers and participants have come to expect the unexpected, but then, Colombia is a country that is full of surprises.