Colombia’s restorative justice institution, the Special Jurisdiction for Peace (JEP), has issued one of its most consequential rulings since its creation, declaring the former commanders of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) responsible for orchestrating the kidnapping of more than 21,000 people during the armed conflict.
Yet the announcement did not end with the imagery that many Colombians expected. The top commanders of the guerrilla group, among them Rodrigo Londoño Echeverri — better known as “Timochenko” — will not serve traditional prison sentences. Instead, they will carry out eight years of restorative sanctions, such as community work and infrastructure projects designed to benefit victims.
The decision has reopened one of the most divisive questions of Colombia’s 2016 peace accord: how to reconcile the pursuit of justice with the demands of ending war. More specifically, many now ask whether restorative sanctions, seen by some as symbolic gestures, can truly replace incarceration without creating a perception of impunity.
Restorative justice for peace: the core tension of the Colombia-FARC accords
The text of the Havana agreement signed in 2016 made an important distinction. While political crimes such as rebellion could be pardoned, atrocities such as crimes against humanity, genocide, hostage-taking, and other grave war crimes were explicitly excluded from amnesties.
At the same time, JEP was given authority to apply “sanciones propias,” (special sanctions) for those who fully confessed, accepted responsibility, and contributed to reparations. These sanctions blend restrictions on liberty with restorative obligations, including the so-called TOAR model — Works and Activities with Reparative Content.
This system is not simply a soft option. Those who deny responsibility face the prospect of a conventional criminal process and could receive prison sentences of up to 20 years. In theory, the model encourages combatants to speak the truth, admit guilt, and work toward repairing the damage caused to communities.
But in practice, this compromise has divided Colombian society. Families of victims often argue that restorative work cannot equate to accountability for systematic kidnappings, cruel treatment of hostages, and disappearances. For them, the absence of prison terms feels like a second injustice. “It is as if our suffering has been discounted,” said one victims’ representative in Bogota after the ruling.
Critics inside the political establishment have echoed these frustrations. Senator Paloma Valencia, a prominent conservative and presidential hopeful, described the JEP’s ruling as “total impunity,” reminding the public that more than 21,936 Colombians were kidnapped while former guerrilla leaders will continue to participate in political life without spending a day in jail. She contrasted this with the reality of military officers serving decades-long sentences. “The message is devastating,” Valencia said. “What we are telling the next generation is that crime pays.”
Humberto de la Calle: “A balance between justice and ending the war”
For those who negotiated the deal, however, the recent ruling is proof that Colombia has embarked on a groundbreaking path. Humberto de la Calle, the chief negotiator for the government during the peace talks in Havana, directly addressed the wave of criticism. “I understand perfectly that many people feel there is impunity, but this process was about striking a balance between justice and peace. It was about making the conflict end”, he told Colombian media.
De la Calle emphasized that FARC’s acknowledgment of responsibility is unprecedented. “The world has not seen before a guerrilla secretariat admitting their crimes without justification. That in itself is historic,” he argued, adding that the decision marks only the beginning. According to him, accountability will extend not only to guerrilla leaders but also to state players, including members of the military and security forces.
This wider vision is at the heart of transitional justice: accountability must be universal, not selective. Still, many victims remain skeptical. They question whether community service, road repairs, and humanitarian projects can truly capture the severity of crimes that destroyed thousands of lives.
Human Rights Watch has also raised concerns. Juanita Goebertus, the organization’s director for the Americas, welcomed the public acknowledgment of guilt but cautioned that “transitional justice cannot remain at the level of symbolic sanctions. There must be real consequences that meet international standards of restriction on liberty.” HRW warned that if sanctions fail to meet those standards, international courts could intervene.
Restorative justice in practice: what the ex-FARC commanders must do
The sanctions handed down by JEP require the former FARC commanders to relocate to specific territories deeply scarred by the war, including Cali and Neiva. There, they will live under state supervision while carrying out reparative projects for at least eight years. These projects are designed to address urgent community needs in areas most affected by violence. They include improving rural roads, rehabilitating schools and health posts, clearing land mines, and supporting the search for the disappeared.
Former commander Pastor Alape, one of those sentenced, acknowledged the burden of responsibility in a radio interview. “We accepted what was agreed in Havana. We submitted to JEP, and we have recognized our role in the kidnappings,” he told local radio station Caracol Radio. “The pain of the victims must be respected. This is a moral weight we will carry as long as we breathe,” he added.
The sanctions are not identical to prison, but they do involve restrictions. Ex-commanders cannot leave the areas of their assignments without authorization. They remain under permanent monitoring by state institutions such as the Police and the Agency for Reincorporation and Normalization. They also cannot travel abroad freely. However, they retain civil rights, meaning they can hold political office or participate in elections while serving their restorative penalties.
This, too, has fueled outrage among critics. For many Colombians, the sight of former guerrilla leaders occupying seats in Congress while victims continue to struggle with trauma, poverty, and displacement is intolerable. The dissonance between political power and accountability lies at the heart of the public debate.
Political and repercussions in Colombia and abroad
President Gustavo Petro has staunchly defended the tribunal, arguing that its restorative model is what allows Colombia to move beyond the war. “JEP is the foundation of peace,” Petro declared in a 2023 speech, warning that undermining it would risk reopening cycles of violence. His administration insists that restorative sanctions provide tangible benefits to victims and communities, rather than symbolic retribution behind prison walls.
International organizations have largely supported the Colombian model, though cautiously. The United Nations Verification Mission described JEP as one of the world’s most advanced transitional justice systems. Its representatives praised the tribunal for producing the most detailed record of atrocities in Colombia’s history. Yet U.N. officials also noted the importance of ensuring that sanctions are enforced credibly and transparently.
Meanwhile, opposition leaders, particularly from the Democratic Center party founded by former President Alvaro Uribe, continue to challenge JEP’s legitimacy. Uribe has accused the tribunal of “eroding Colombians’ trust in justice” by letting guerrilla leaders escape prison. His allies in Congress have proposed reforms to introduce stricter penalties and curtail JEP’s autonomy.
The debate has also spilled onto the international stage. Human rights organizations are watching closely, noting that Colombia’s model could become a precedent for future peace processes worldwide. If restorative sanctions prove effective and credible, they may redefine how post-conflict societies pursue justice. If not, the case could end up before international courts, potentially undermining Colombia’s fragile peace.
A fragile but unprecedented experiment
Ultimately, the controversy surrounding the JEP’s ruling captures the essence of Colombia’s post-war struggle. The tribunal has not broken the peace accord; it has acted within its framework, applying the sanctions envisioned in Havana. Yet public perception tells a different story. For many victims and their families, the absence of prison time feels like an open wound, a denial of their suffering, and a distortion of justice.
The sanctioned leaders — Rodrigo Londoño, Pastor Alape, Pablo Catatumbo, Rodrigo Granda, Julian Gallo, Joaquin Gomez, Milton de Jesus Toncel, and Jaime Alberto Parra — will now face the test of translating restorative justice into meaningful change on the ground. Whether Colombians view their work as genuine accountability or as hollow theater will shape the future of the peace process.
As Humberto de la Calle reminded the country: “This was always about making choices between imperfect options. Without alternative sanctions, there would have been no end to the war.” That tradeoff remains controversial, but it is the foundation upon which Colombia’s fragile peace still rests.