An indigenous woman passes graffiti depicting former dictator Efrain Rios Montt in Guatemala City (Daniel Leclair/Courtesy Reuters).
This is a guest post by Natalie Kitroeff, a research associate here at the Council on Foreign Relations who works with me in the Latin America program.
Without fanfare, or so much as a public arrest, this weekend Guatemala took another historic step toward justice for a genocidal civil war that took the lives of more than 200,000 innocent, mostly indigenous civilians. Just a week after losing his diplomatic immunity, General (Ret) Efraín Ríos Montt was ordered to testify in court about his role in abuses that occurred between 1982 to 1983, when he was de facto President of Guatemala. If judge Patricia Flores decides there is enough evidence to proceed to trial, Ríos Montt will be prosecuted on charges of genocide and crimes against humanity (including 626 massacres of civilians in Chimaltenango, Quiché, Huehuetenango and Baja Verapaz).
Ríos Montt has made his defense quite clear. Over the past month, he has repeatedly said that he can’t be tried for any human rights violations because he wasn’t in charge of the military’s on-the-ground operations as the country’s political leader. His lawyer has echoed these claims, telling the press recently, “We are sure that there is no responsibility, since he was never on the battlefield.”
This strategy is a radical new approach in the Guatemalan context. Until now, the military has consistently denied that genocide was ever a part of the civil war. Even the current president, Otto Pérez Molina, said that he doesn’t believe the findings of the UN truth commission, and that he could “prove that [genocide] did not occur,” during the conflict. But Ríos Montt is now arguing not that the atrocities didn’t happen, but that he is not culpable.
While this doesn’t yet amount to an open acknowledgement of genocide, it does suggest that things have changed (if slightly) since the Association for Justice and Reconciliation (AJR) first brought charges against Ríos Montt in 1999. The discovery of mass graves by the Forensic Anthropology Foundation of Guatemala (FAFG) and the tireless work of victims groups in pushing for trials – finally winning convictions for four ex-soldiers this year – has made it untenable for the military to negate the genocide outright, at least in a court of law.
Whether or not the “I didn’t make the call” line of defense will work remains to be seen. To win, public prosecutors will have to prove that the army’s brutal scorched earth tactics were part of a coherent state policy designed by the president (not just the work of individual rogue officers). This concept of “intellectual authorship” has yet to be tested in Guatemala, as so far only low-ranking soldiers – the material authors of the crimes– have ever been convicted for war crimes (the one exception is Colonel Juan Valencia Osorio, who was convicted as an intellectual author of Myrna Mack’s assassination, but escaped imprisonment and is now a fugitive).
Ríos Montt is also taking a further risk with this legal strategy, threatening the military chain of command by deflecting responsibility for wartime violations onto military commanders. His three top officials are now in police custody, including an ex-minister of defense, an ex-military chief of staff and an intelligence officer, undoubtedly alienated from their old boss. As the Chilean and Argentinean justice processes have shown, once the military turns against itself it becomes much easier to prosecute human rights violations. Though Guatemalan prosecutors say they have documents proving a rigid, top-down chain of command, witness testimony from former high-ranking officers would certainly boost their case. And if he isn’t careful to maintain military loyalty, that may be just what Ríos Montt hands them.
Published in conjunction with Latin America’s Moment at the Council on Foreign Relations.
Suspects wait at the Supreme Court in Guatemala City (Jorge Lopez/Courtesy Reuters).
The conventional Guatemalan security story is one of a country riddled with violence, where law enforcement institutions are in shambles and corruption reaches the highest levels of government. Its homicide rate triples that of Mexico, and its notoriously weak rule of law system lets more than 99 percent of criminals walk free. The growing presence of Mexican and Colombian cartels, pushed out of their home countries due to intensive antidrug campaigns, has only made matters worse. As the Zetas in particular move into the northern provinces, observers sound alarm bells about Guatemala’s possible descent into a “narco-state”.
Still, it may be too early to give up on Guatemala. Since the capture of top drug-smuggler Juan Alberto Ortiz-López, alias ‘el Chamalé’, in late March of this year, Guatemalan officials have arrested a number of local gang leaders, some with close ties to the Zetas. Within days of folk singer Facundo Cabral’s murder this month, the authorities announced the arrest of three suspects, presenting a slideshow with a play-by-play rundown of the events. The swift response became a point of pride for Guatemalans accustomed to sluggish, if any, justice.
The UN International Commission against Impunity in Guatemala (CICIG) can take much of the credit for these improvements. Set up in 2007, the commission has been an enormous boost to law enforcement’s (still limited) capacity; assisting in high-profile investigations and promoting important reforms, notably witness protection and plea bargaining laws. It works in conjunction with domestic security agencies, employing a “learning by doing” model that teaches investigative methods to Guatemalan prosecutors on the job. Not least of all, CICIG played an instrumental role in the appointment of current Attorney General Claudia Paz y Paz, who has had a markedly positive impact on the public prosecutor’s office.
But Paz y Paz and her fellow reformers face an uphill battle. Guatemalans are among the most mistrustful of judicial institutions across Latin America, and the most skeptical of democracy overall. Winning the public’s trust in the justice system requires sustained improvements, not just sporadic high-profile successes. The lack of funding for security poses another major challenge – last year the government cut the public prosecutor’s budget by a quarter. More generally, Guatemala’s tax revenue is the lowest in the region at around 10 percent of GDP (its Central American neighbors are not much better, with this part of the region ranking below the rest of the continent and even Sub-Saharan Africa in tax collection).
The upcoming elections may also stall progress. The presidential frontrunner, Otto Pérez-Molina, is a retired army general with a questionable human rights record and a preference for iron fist, hard-line security policies. While he has promised to respect political appointees’ mandates, many fear that if elected he would replace Paz y Paz and even block the continuation of CICIG’s work beyond its current 2013 deadline. While outsourcing justice is not a long-term solution, banishing the UN commission before it has completed its investigations and trials will handicap efforts to strengthen the rule of law.
For a place that many have already labeled a failed state, the recent advances in security are a ray of hope. A committed Attorney General and external commission have shown that it is possible to make inroads combating organized crime and Guatemala’s pervasive culture of impunity. But to sustain and further these small islands of progress, other branches of government and citizens more generally will have to do their part. The very wealthy will have to pay higher taxes to underpin public security (a point stressed by Hillary Clinton during last month’s Central American security conference). The next president may have to forgo partisan calculations and bolster the justice system, starting with keeping the effective Paz y Paz as chief prosecutor. These are by no means easy steps to take. They require personal sacrifices and the setting aside of self interest for the public good of a stronger state. But if Guatemalans truly want a more stable and secure future, they will have to start making these tough choices. Instead of writing Guatemala off as a lost cause, we should applaud the work of a few courageous reformers and encourage the rest of the country to follow their lead.
Published in conjunction with Latin America’s Moment at the Council on Foreign Relations.
