Mac Margolis: Colombia does
Venezuela's dirty work
Diplomacy is a coded business, where every tonic syllable counts. So here's one for Latin American semioticians: How to parse Colombia's decision to hand over two young Venezuelan fugitive dissidents to the Bolivarian thought police?
One theory: To seal a peace deal with the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), Juan Manuel Santos, Colombia's president, is again pandering to the autocrat next door.
It's no secret that Venezuela has long been in the corner of the Colombian insurgents, who have been waging terror and mayhem against Colombia's government for the last half-century, often with a wink and a nod from their Venezuelan patrons. That toxic bond had estranged Colombia and Venezuela for most of the previous decade, with the hawkish Alvaro Uribe pitted against the chief Andean tub-thumper, Hugo Chavez.
Since Santos was first elected in 2010, he has gone out of his way to end the Andean Cold War, infuriating Uribe, many Colombians, and the entire Venezuelan opposition besides. Exhibit A: his 2011 extradition of suspected Venezuelan drug-trafficker, Walid Makled , then in a Colombian jail. Not to the U.S., where Makled was wanted for a farrago of felonies, from running cocaine to abetting the FARC, but to Venezuela, where his trial has yet to be concluded.
Many pragmatists shrugged off that kind of deference as the price of keeping Caracas from upending negotiations between Colombia and the FARC in Havana, where Santos hoped to end the Western Hemisphere's longest insurgency.
Two years on, peace is still elusive, but Santos has kept courting the Chavistas. Which circles us back to the Venezuelan fugitives. Gabriel Valles, aged 27, and Lorent Saleh, 26, are members of an organization protesting the government of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro, but they aren't exactly hardened criminals, much less game changers in the peace parley. As Diego Arria, a Venezuelan opposition leader, told me, "These are kids, not the rebel vanguard."
Both had slipped over the border to evade the Venezuelan courts, where they face charges of troublemaking during antigovernment street protests, including "inciting public disorder," spreading "false information," and a Bolivarian gem called "public uncertainty," which is Chavista-speak for anything their men in red want it to be.
Since they were first hauled into Venezuelan court, they'd been under orders to report every few weeks to the police and were barred from traveling abroad. So effectively, their offense was skipping probation.
Not that anyone in Caracas's Palacio Miraflores much cared. Attorney Alfredo Romero, of the Venezuelan rights group Foro Penal, noted in his Twitter account that Venezuela hadn't even issued an extradition request when Colombia handed the two over to Venezuelan intelligence last week. More tellingly, perhaps, Saleh and Valles were reported to be close to former president Uribe, Santos's archenemy, and had criticized the Santos administration in speeches, adding a note of potential political payback to the surrender.
Whatever the motive, the handover steps on the honorable Latin American tradition -- burned into the American Convention on Human Rights -- of sheltering dissenters who have fled persecution or fear for their lives.
Adding to the "ignoble act," Arria, a former Venezuelan ambassador to the United Nations, told me, was the delivery of Saleh and Valles to Venezuela's "dangerous" intelligence police, SEBIN, "known by Colombian authorities for their close ties to Colombian narco-terrorists."
Colombia isn't the only country rolling over for the Chavistas. In 2012, fearing for his life, Bolivian Senator Roger Pinto Molina, an opponent of Bolivarian socialist President Evo Morales, fled to the Brazilian embassy in La Paz. President Dilma Rousseff granted him refugee status but denied safe conduct to Brazil when Morales hollered. After 455 days in limbo, Pinto snuck into Brazil, where the authorities pressured him to keep quiet and give up his asylum claim, his attorney Fernando Tiburcio Pena told me.
Then last month, former Venezuelan ambassador Milos Alcalay, a critic of Maduro, was detained in Nicaragua, where he was to attend a meeting on liberty and democracy, and then packed off to Panama, before being sent back home. Detail: Nicaragua and Panama are Venezuela's closest allies in Central America.
Puzzlingly, Santos, an able leader with a statesman's vision, had shone precisely because he'd risen above the crab barrel of Latin diplomacy. Winning peace is a worthy pursuit, and may warrant sacrifices. But surely not the kind that involve throwing foreign dissidents under the bus.