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INTERVIEW WITH MONSIGNOR JORGE ENRIQUE JIMÉNEZ CARVAJAL

Stop the killing! Stop the kidnapping! Stop the threats! We can't stand any more violence. And they should remember that "the blood of my brother shouts out to God".

++Jorge Enrique Jiménez Carvajal, currently Assistant to the Archbishop of Cartagena++

1. Why do you think you were kidnapped?
That's not an easy question to answer. The only clear thing the guerrillas told me, at the end of the first day, was that "every kidnapping is for economic reasons", and that no matter who it was, "everyone pays". But during the following days I got the impression that there were other reasons as well. Some time previously I had heard a fellow bishop say that he had heard a rumour to the effect that "a bishop was needed to complete the package". This was at the time when the story of a group of "swappable" kidnap victims was first starting to go around. I don't rule out the possibility of that being the true motive.

2. Did you receive any threats before you were kidnapped?
I never received kidnap threats or any other type of threats.

3. Could you take us through the events of the day you were kidnapped?
I was travelling to the poorest parish in my Diocese, in an area where there was a strong guerrilla presence at the time. The reasons for the journey were purely pastoral. The parish had prepared a group of youngsters for Confirmation (a religious ceremony), and I had promised to be with them on Monday 11 November, which is a public holiday in Colombia. I was travelling with Desiderio Orjuela, the Pacho parish priest and vicar of the area we were going to. As usual, people were waiting for me at various points along the route to offer their support and goodwill. About five kilometres before the hamlet of San Antonio de Aguilera, which is where the confirmation ceremonies were going to be held, two guerrillas blocked the road and ordered us to get out. It was 9:40 in the morning. They ordered the three vehicles that were accompanying us to continue on their way, intimidating the occupants and ordering them to say nothing. They also told the priest who was with me that he could go, because they "only wanted the bishop". Desiderio nevertheless told them he would not abandon his bishop, and so he was left to face the same fate as me.

I can remember so many details of those distressing moments that it would be tedious to describe them all. The guerrillas' 'Plan A' was certainly to take us away in the jeep we were travelling in, going part way back along the road we had just come along. However, this plan was frustrated when the vehicle broke down, and their confusion at this unexpected problem was evident. At this point, there were at least 15 or 20 guerrillas surrounding us.

So they adopted 'Plan B', and forced us to walk quickly so they could hide us as soon as possible. I was suffering much personal anguish, and it was only by praying all the while with Father Desiderio that we were able to get any comfort at that most difficult of times. We came to a place by a stream where there was a lot of vegetation, and they hid us there until eight o'clock at night, when other guerrillas arrived with two horses and took us away.

After the initial confusion and bewilderment, and when they had hidden us, I began to try to talk with the guerrilla group. This was an attitude I kept up until an hour before we were rescued by the Colombian army. At first the guerrillas were very evasive, but gradually we got round to talking about many things, including kidnapping.

It was not until we set out, at about eight o'clock on a night when there was a full moon and the sky was full of stars, I began to appreciate the fact that I had been kidnapped. Logically, the memory and the images of so many fellow Colombians who had suffered the same fate began to flood my mind. The walk on that first night seemed never-ending, through places that Father Desiderio and I tried to recognise. He knows the region very well, as he had spent virtually the whole of his life as a priest serving these simple, kind people in the Rionegro region of Cundinamarca.

4. How were you treated while you were in captivity?
Everyone who is deprived of his freedom, no matter who he or she is, is treated miserably. No son of God deserves to be treated that way. Guerrillas often use the euphemism that "they are treating you very well". I always refuted that statement and told them clearly that I would never feel "well treated" by anyone who dared to deprive me of my freedom. It was only on the first day that the guerrilla leader insulted us verbally. In truth, that never happened again. On several occasions, particularly when I was reciting the Rosary of the Virgin out loud, they threatened to gag me.

5. What were conditions like, what was the place itself like, where you were held captive?
The places we went through were close to hamlets and villages around the area of Rionegro, in Cundinamarca province. The last day, which was the only time they made us walk during the daytime, Father Desiderio and I were able to identify a number of hamlets around Topiapí, where they had taken us the previous nights. These are extremely poor settlements, where the peasants eke out a living on a day-to-day basis and have been practically abandoned by the Colombian State, because they receive no support whatsoever for cultivating the land.

Q. What were the conditions in captivity?
A. Any captivity is horrible. The experience of feeling kidnapped is horrific. You are afraid all the tixme. Uncertainty is with you all the time. Captivity when you have been kidnapped has all those ingredients. God wanted his children to be free, and freedom is one of the finest gifts that God has given to every man and woman. When you lose your freedom, you feel that your dignity has suffered a blow and that you have had life itself snatched away from you.

6. Did you talk with the guerrillas? What did you talk about?
As I said before, once they had hidden us, one of my first reactions was to talk to the guerrillas. We talked for many hours, and about many subjects. Dialogue always brings people closer. They confided things about their lives, their desires, their worries, their personal plans. We talked many times about religious matters, about God, about the church, about prayer. Only once did one of the leaders tell us straight out that he didn't believe in the Church. He nevertheless went on to immediately add that it was impossible to live without a faith in some superior being. The ordinary guerrillas are very simple peasants with the natural religious nature all these people have, the product of a religious upbringing in their homes, and they have received the fundamental sacraments of our church. I remember that politics was a subject that came up only sporadically in our conversations. The group I was with had had very little training in that area. They repeated well-known "slogans" about injustice in our country, but couldn't say much of importance on the subject. I recall that one female guerrilla, who was around 18 years old, was the most insistent when it came to talking about injustice. But they had definitely not been given any training in this area.

7. Did you feel at any time that your life was in danger?
Certainly, several times. Walking at night in the dark along bad paths in the pouring rain and through horrible bogs definitely makes you feel a sense of danger. I felt I could slip at any moment, and that the very worst could happen to me. When we were taken on horseback and the animals refused to go on, fear necessarily welled up. But apart from that, when you are surrounded 24 hours a day by eight or ten AK rifles, held by men with cartridge belts slung across their chests, you tend to think that the worst could happen at any moment, even if it is only an involuntary mistake.

8. Were you held with other kidnap victims, apart from Father Desiderio Orjuela?
No. My only companion in captivity was Father Desiderio. And what a gift it was that God gave me, having a friend like Father Desiderio with me! I didn't deserve it. I am eternally grateful for his friendship and his loyalty.

9. Were you in agreement with the idea of a military rescue operation?
To be honest, the thought was always going through my mind. I wanted something to happen. I yearned for it. As the days passed, I saw the possibility of regaining my freedom slip farther away. I wanted to be rescued. Yes, it's true. And cherishing this idea did not make me afraid. I never thought that I could die at that moment. Of course, I don't know whether I would have still thought the same on this point if I had been held captive for a long time, like so many Colombians, for example, who have been held for years.

Today I am infinitely grateful to my family for their courage in allowing my rescue to go ahead. Apart from God - my wonderful Father - first and foremost, it is to my brothers and sisters and the Colombian army that I owe the life that I now devote totally to serving the Catholic faithful on the Caribbean coast who have given me such a warm welcome after my unforgettable experience as bishop of Zipaquirá. How wonderful it is to be able to count on such a kind, affectionate family as the Jiménez Carvajal family in one's life!

Could you describe the time you were freed?
I was rescued in an instant. I was reciting the Rosary very early with Father Desiderio, and that morning we had had a very long talk with the guerrilla leader, who had been very distant and unwilling to talk until then. Suddenly helicopters began flying overhead, and the 'phantom plane'. Everything seemed very far away for the first half hour. The triumphant attitude of the guerrillas worried us, yet it was true that the enormous trees and the difficulty of the terrain where we were hidden, with undergrowth everywhere, made it hard to be optimistic. But you start to feel something deep down in your heart, something is telling you freedom is at hand, that the impossible could really happen. And when the helicopters started to get closer, the guerrillas began to get nervous. It was then that I really did begin to feel that freedom was very near. At that point, a guerrilla took Father Desiderio and me by the arm, as if to hide us more. Then a loud voice rang out, "Let them go! We are the national army. Get down on the ground, bishop!" It was Sergeant Mejía, who had silently crept up and then, with an incredible commanding voice, had burst into the guerrilla camp, followed by his soldiers. The guerrillas were cowards, for they threw down their rifles and fled through the surrounding undergrowth. The sergeant never stopped insisting that they should protect our lives, and once we were over on their side, they began firing in the air for what seemed an eternity, because the over-riding order was to rescue us, even if none of the guerrillas were captured. A wonderful day for the army, much professionalism, much courage, and a successful operation, thank God.

There then followed a prayer, but in my heart: "thank you, Lord, for giving me back my life!" General Reinaldo Castellanos, the man behind the rescue operation and who lifted me up into his helicopter, told me that the operation had been code-named "rebirth" and that he had put it in the hands of the Lord.

10. Did the guerrillas give you any message?
At the time I was kidnapped, I recall hearing them say they were kidnapping me because their leaders needed to send a message with me. And they were always telling me that we were going to their leader. That was one of the many lies they told me, that they tried to deceive me with. Many a time I told them that their principal weapon was the lie. And so it proved to be. The message never arrived.

11. Has this experience changed your views of the conflict, the guerrilla groups, or the country's armed forces?
Yes, a lot. It's one thing to hear stories, to see the news on television or to read about things in the press, and something quite different to suffer violence directly. I now condemn and denounce it more than ever. The violence in Colombia is an iniquity. There can be absolutely no justification for it whatsoever. It has degraded life in our country terribly.

But I do think it can be beaten. We can defeat it. It's has clay feet. It has to collapse, and very soon. But if this is to happen, we all urgently need to support our government, and to support our Armed Forces. They need our fullest respect and support. So far the government has been very generous in hoisting the flag of peace and seeking a dialogue that will make peace with the least possible violence. But the answer has always been arrogance from those who have no rights in our country, because all they have brought have been death, poverty and backwardness…… and all the evils. I feel confident that with the professionalism of our Armed Forces and the support of the Colombian people for the government and those Armed Forces, victory will be won very soon. And talks? Yes, but not never-ending ones; that's being far too naïve and simplistic.

And will there be pardon and forgiveness? I think so. You always have to forgive. I am a disciple of someone who forgave people who offended him infinitely: Jesus Christ. Forgiving and forgetting is the only true, effective pardon. And that is something that comes freely from God. The normal human reaction is hatred, vengeance and resentment, but God allows us to forgive. Indeed he does, for he says to us "I forgive you, and do not sin any more".

12. Would you like to send a message to those who threaten the lives of the country's civilian population and members of its religious community every day?
Stop the killing! Stop the kidnapping! Stop the threats! We can't stand any more violence. And they should remember that "the blood of my brother shouts out to God", that the Lord himself said this after the first murder in history, when Cain killed Abel. They should search their conscience and look at their bloodied hands. And they should remember that God can forgive them if they repent and sin no more.

13. Would you send a message to people who are suffering at first hand the scourge of kidnapping, and/or to their relatives?
I pray for them every day. Especially after personally suffering what they have been going through for a long time. Mine was something very small compared with what they have had to put up with. But they should not lose hope. To those who are in captivity and to their relatives, I say: "better times will come". And I hope those relatives will forgive a suggestion of mine. I feel ashamed to trouble them, and perhaps I have no right to do so, but they should not let themselves be deceived by the demagoguery of the guerrilla leaders: it’s those guerrilla leaders, and only they, who are to blame for their relatives being in captivity. Putting the blame on the government is perverse, and something those criminals revel in.

++Jorge Enrique Jiménez Carvajal, Assistant to the Archbishop of Cartagena++