Recently released from jail and deported back to Colombia, drug lord Fabio Ochoa has become the center of national attention as he reopens the dark chapter of the Medellin Cartel and Colombia’s cartel wars. While the lives of drug traffickers remain shrouded in mystery and urban legend, Ochoa is credited with authoring a book that narrates the early days of the Medellin Cartel and sheds light on lesser-known aspects of its history.
Published in October 1989, “A Narco Confesses and Accuses” (Un Narco Confiesa y Acusa) offers an insider’s perspective on the origins of drug trafficking, the power dynamics within the criminal underworld, and the roots of paramilitarism in Colombia.
The book is presented as a denunciation of the supposed hypocrisy, persecution, and unfair treatment of drug traffickers by the Colombian media and politicians and also defends the drug lords’ stance against extradition. It also acts as a testament and message to the Colombian people.
The book was originally released at the height of the conflict between Pablo Escobar, the Medellin Cartel, and the Colombian state, which culminated in the assassination of presidential candidate Luis Carlos Galan in August 1989.
The book was published anonymously and its author was only identified as “one of the extraditables,” referring to the drug traffickers targeted by the United States Drug Enforcement Administration and Department of Justice. While the author’s identity remains officially unknown, experts widely attribute the book to Ochoa, the youngest of the Ochoa brothers and a founding member of the Medellin Cartel.
Here are some of the most compelling insights and excerpts from Ochoa’s alleged book.
Colombian upper class and drug trafficking
In the book, the author describes the close relationship drug traffickers had with Colombia’s high society, particularly in Medellin, during the 1970s and 1980s. “In the beginning, when we started making money and squandering it on parties and buying properties, we were seen as folkloric and naive figures who inspired no suspicion. The wealthy attended our gatherings and parties,” the narrator says.
The author also highlights a double standard that existed in Colombia at the time: while drug lords were often dismissed as nouveau riche, criminals or undesirable individuals, struggling elites or those facing financial hardship did not hesitate to partner with them to regain prosperity.
“The wealthy wanted to associate with us, usually to sell us their estates, residences, or shares in failing companies at high prices,” the author continues. “And when friendships deepened, they often sought loans from us – interest-free and with uncertain repayment terms. In the euphoria induced by liquor, many would even discreetly propose getting involved in a shipment, whispering, ‘But keep it quiet, in the strictest confidence, you understand?’”
“Even when many drug traffickers’ names became public, numerous prominent figures did not hesitate to associate with them, to be their friends, which could be understood as a form of tacit endorsement of their activities,” he adds.
In Medellin, drug lords were known for their extravagance but also for their grandeur and generosity, which they used to win public sympathy and establish themselves as local heroes. Sometimes, as they drove their luxury cars around local neighborhoods, they would distribute food, household appliances and, on occasion, even throw money into the streets. To this day, in the southern suburbs of Medellin – including Itagüí, Envigado, and Sabaneta, where many of the Medellin Cartel’s powerful families originated – people still recall the narcos era.
Fabio Ochoa book connects Medellin Cartel and birth of paramilitarism
One of the book’s most significant claims is that the Medellin Cartel was instrumental in the birth of paramilitary groups in Colombia. These groups, which terrorized the Colombian countryside for decades, are presented as the Cartel’s military response to the guerrillas and the threat they posed to its drug business.
“Paramilitaries emerged because guerrillas had taken control of much of the coca trade and production in the Llanos, Amazonía, Caquetá, Putumayo, and Yarí regions,” the author writes. “There was a need to arm people to drive the guerrillas out of what wasn’t theirs. […] “This is why several major coca entrepreneurs provided money, weapons, and men to local merchants and farmers in those areas to oust the guerrillas.”
The book portrays paramilitarism as an alliance between drug lords – who were worried that coca production and supply chains might fall under the control of subversive armed groups – and traditional landowners, who felt their centuries-old authority over land and people was under threat.
“I think it’s better for the coca trade to be in the hands of peasants rather than guerrillas,” the author reflects.
The Ochoa brothers are notoriously linked to the rise of paramilitarism in Colombia. After their sister, Martha Nieves Ochoa, was kidnapped by the far-left urban guerrilla group M-19 (of which Gustavo Petro was once a member), they spearheaded the creation of Colombia’s first paramilitary organization, Death to Kidnappers (Muerte a Secuestradores).
Formed on December 1, 1981, the group united dozens of Colombian criminal leaders, members of the security establishment, politicians, and prominent businessmen, all of whom pledged armed support and significant financial resources to combat the M-19 movement.
Under Jorge Ochoa’s leadership, the group swiftly secured Martha’s release. However, Muerte a Secuestradores evolved far beyond a vigilante operation. It escalated its campaign against M-19, torturing and killing dozens of its members. The group also expanded its targets to include other leftist organizations such as the FARC, eventually assassinating over 300 demobilized guerrilla leaders.
Americans and cocaine trafficking
In his book, the author says he entered the drug trade after being approached by an American pilot in a night club in Medellin. “We started selling the product to the American pilot, who would arrive in Colombia on a U.S. plane and pay immediately in dollars. The business seemed easy, low-risk and profitable.”
The author explained how the operation evolved in the 1980s, shifting the responsibility for transporting drugs away from American traffickers. “Today, you only deliver it halfway. From there, the Americans take over the transportation and smuggling into the United States and pay for the shipment – the most expensive part.”
According to the author, this shift occurred because American traffickers sought to minimize their operational risks. “They buy it wholesale and pure, so they no longer take risks. Once the product is secured, the risks are minimal. That’s why they’re the wealthiest.”
The author also linked the crack cocaine epidemic in the U.S. during the late 1980s to American traffickers. “Once the product reaches the U.S., the Americans cut it, mixing it with crushed pills, powders, lime, and other substances. From Colombia, it’s almost 100% pure cocaine crystal, which isn’t as strong, addictive, or harmful as crack, which they produce and sell cheaper because of the cuts,” he claims.