By Esteban Llano Piedrahita

 

(…) ¿El campo?… Lo que hay allá es monte bravo 

 aquí es bosquecito preso. Como un hombre en La Ladera,  

pero si el camino se hace calle y la calle pueblo y el pueblo ciudá, 

 ¿Quién retrocede?” 

 

(…) The countryside?… What lies there is untamed brush  

What we have here is a small captive forest. Like a man in the hillside,  

But, if the path evolves into a street and the street into a town, and the town into a city,  

who turns back? 

(Manuel Mejia Vallejo, 1973) 

 

Introduction

Colombian cities have been shaped by nearly 80 years of internal conflict, marked by strong waves of terror that have forced the displacement of millions of people. Just during the period known as “The violence,” which spanned from 1946 to 1966, more than two million individuals in Colombia were compelled to abandon their homes, the vast majority of them settling in urban peripheries to start a new life (Chacón, Sánchez, 2003). This phenomenon is not only part of Colombia’s history but also of my own family. My grandmother, Aurora, fled the countryside with her eight children and found refuge in the red neighborhood of Medellín in the year 1963. 

But what exactly does the term “red” refer to? For 150 years, until the year 2002, Colombia was under the dominance of two political parties, in fact, the two oldest in Latin America. On one side, the Conservative Party, identified with the colour blue, and on the other, the Liberal Party, associated with the colour red. Initially, the Conservative Party had the backing of large landowners, slaveholders, and the clergy, while the Liberal Party represented the oppressed, such as peasants, indigenous peoples, and minorities. 

Over time, shifting political landscapes and pivotal historical events gradually obscured the founding principles of these two parties, leading to conflicts that deeply scarred the nation. This essay aims to unravel how the enduring feud between these parties significantly contributed to the widespread phenomenon of internal displacement in Colombia, and in turn, how this mass movement of people fundamentally reshaped the demographic, urban, and social fabric of Colombian cities. Anchoring this exploration is the story of my grandmother’s home, situated in the historically ‘red’ neighbourhood on the northeastern hillside of Medellín.

 

Origins of the Red Neighborhood of Medellín

 By 1937, an extensive estate known as “La Favorita” graced the highest part of the northeastern hillside of Medellín. After the death of its owner, Mr. Tomás Muñoz, his heirs decided to illegally subdivide the land, a practice that had become increasingly common in the city’s northern parts over the previous two decades. The Cocks family, through their property development company “Cock and Sons,” were prominent practitioners of this approach, acquiring and then illicitly subdividing large tracts of land on both the eastern and western slopes of the city. Their operations involved laying out lots, creating paths, and, in a unique move by Cock and Sons, offering long-term financing for these newly divided plots at favourable prices. This strategy attracted the working class, including both seasoned urban dwellers and fresh arrivals from the countryside, blending urban and rural settlers into the northeastern communes of Medellín. This mix started to define the area as a liberal, or “red,” stronghold. East Manrique, the neighbourhood that developed on the lands of the La Favorita estate, stood out as a symbol of this “red” identity, thanks in part to the significant influence of Liberal Party members who were instrumental in its development.
 

In the early 1940s, community leaders like Ramón Rivera, Abel Hoyos, Pepe Serna, Carlos Oporto, Luis Pineda, Aníbal Carvajal, Aníbal Vélez, Ramón Hoyos, and Fernando Gómez founded the community civic center. From this base, they committed to building homes for incoming families and led the creation of schools, a church, and the establishment of utilities and public spaces over the following decades. Their efforts cemented East Manrique’s reputation as a “red” neighborhood, nurturing a strong sense of community and belonging among its residents. 

 

The Period of “La Violencia” (The Violence)

During the period from 1946 to 1966, Colombia was the stage of a severe internal conflict known as “La Violencia” (The Violence). During this conflict, it is estimated that more than 190,000 Colombians lost their lives and another two million were displaced from their lands, leading to an unprecedented exodus from rural areas to the cities in the country. The origin of this conflict stemmed from the differences between the “azules” (blues) and “rojos” (reds), which is equivalent to conservatives and liberals, respectively. Furthermore, this conflict intensified in 1948 with the assassination of the left-wing presidential candidate, Jorge Eliécer Gaitán, whom the “reds” perceived as the leader of the people and a liberating promise for the oppressed. Thus, the violence, particularly the assassination of Gaitán, paved the way for the emergence of guerrilla groups in the country (Chacón, Sánchez, 2003). It is worth noting then that, from the time of the violence, being “red” not only associated with sympathising with the “left”, but also with being a militant against the law; which made the red neighbourhood of Medellín a military target. According to Juan Camilo Castañeda in interviews with residents of East Manrique, they recall how during the time of the violence, conservatives would come to the neighbourhood with the intention of attacking liberals, prompting the neighbors to respond with sticks, stones, and if necessary, shotguns (Jesús, Lucía, 2018). Finally, The Violence period established East Manrique as the red neighbourhood of Medellín. After Gaitán’s death, the main square of the neighborhood was named as “Red Square– Jorge Eliécer Gaitán”, a name it still retains to this day. 

 

Aurora flees with her children

Aurora, my grandmother, was born in the 1920s in a small town located three hours far from Medellín. Although of peasant origin, but from a conservative family, she developed a clear inclination towards the Liberal Party from a very young age. This tendency was significant in her life, as at the age of eleven she was married to one of the police officers in the town, a man sixteen years older than her and a fervent militant of the conservative party. This marriage was heavily marked by deep differences, but above all by abuse and violence, due to the husband’s authoritarianism and prohibitions towards his wife and children. Amparo, one of the younger daughters of the marriage, recounts in an interview that her mother gave birth to more than fifteen children, of which only eight survived to adulthood. 

When Aurora’s eldest sons reached adulthood, they persuaded their mother to leave their father, who at that time served as the mayor of the town (Amparo, 2024). This decision led Aurora and her eight children to embark on the journey to Medellín amidst the violence of the year 1963. Thus, they joined the flow of more than two million people who, during the turbulent period from 1946 to 1966, migrated from the countryside to the city in search of refuge and new opportunities (Chacón, Sánchez, 2003). It is crucial to emphasise that, although the year 1966 is recognised as the end of the Violence period, over time new disputes and conflicts emerged, both political and civil, triggering persistent rural migration to urban areas. This migratory process significantly altered the demographic composition of Colombia: while in 1938 only 31% of the Colombian population lived in urban areas, by the year 1993, this percentage had increased to 68%, leaving an indelible mark on the territorial configuration of the country and exerting a notable influence on the development of Colombian urban areas (Sánchez Steiner, 2008). 

 

Aurora and her children settle in the red neighbourhood

Aurora’s choice to settle in the red neighbourhood was not random. Close friends who had already moved to this area provided her with refuge and support during her transition. Additionally, as a sympathiser of liberal ideals, Aurora trusted that the local liberal committee would provide her with a crucial support network to safeguard herself from the conservative influence of her ex-husband. In this new environment, Aurora saw the opportunity to start anew, and with her savings, she bought a plot of land on the 30th street, which at that time marked the limit of urbanisation on the hillside. “Now the neighbourhood extends almost to the top of the mountain,” says Amparo Piedrahíta, who also remembers that, during the construction of her home on the land her mother acquired, not only all the family members participated but also several neighbours from the area, including some leaders of the local liberal committee. She reveals that the original house was quite simple, consisting only of a large living room, a single bedroom, kitchen, and a bathroom, spaces that she, her seven siblings, and her mother had to share. Additionally, she said that the plot already had basic services such as potable water, electricity, and sewerage, as it was in a “planned” area of the neighbourhood; a situation that, although illegal in the eyes of the municipality, was accepted and managed by the neighbours and the liberal board from the beginning of the neighbourhood. Amparo concludes by recalling that, despite the challenges, they lived a full life for a long period. Her family managed to maintain a serene existence even in moments of tension in the neighbourhood, demonstrating the resilience and community spirit that characterised them. 

 “One lived happily there. Of course, there was always tension because from time to time they tried to attack a leader or killed a neighbor. There was always tension, but one lived peacefully most of the time. Despite everything, there was a lot of community feeling and that was very satisfying. One felt protected,” argues Amparo. 

 

 

The emergence of urban militias and paramilitary groups

 

By the early 1980s, Aurora’s house had changed significantly. Six of her eight children had left to start their own households, and the house now had new occupants. Besides Aurora, two of her daughters, one son-in-law, and some of her grandchildren lived there. Due to this new family setup, a second level was built, and both houses had better finishes. The house was better than ever, but the neighbourhood was going through its worst moment, and things seemed to be worsening. 

The period following The Violence period in Colombia was characterised by being a critical moment when insurgent guerrillas gained strength, especially in rural areas. In cities, the story was different due to a greater presence of the state, which made guerrillas easy targets. Consequently, the guerrillas limited their presence in cities to sporadic and highly strategic incursions. However, simultaneously, in the neighbourhoods of the hillsides of Medellín, the “reds” began to collaborate with civil defence. This joint effort aimed to acquire training in combat tactics and strategies directly from police commands to safeguard their communities from potential attacks by the “blues” (Márquez, 1986). According to authors like Gilberto Medina Franco in his book “A History of the Militias of Medellín,” arguing that the country’s guerrillas founded the urban militias would be a mistake, but he states in his own words that these militias “were born from the same trunk as the guerrillas and fed on their own sap.” The discourse of the militias originated from the guerrillas established previously in the country and emerged in response to the violence from various criminal bands, but especially from the paramilitary action that was decimating the red neighbourhoods of Medellín; accused of being hiding places for guerrillas (Medina, 2006). 

On the other hand, paramilitary action began years ago in response to the excesses of the guerrillas, explains Edgar de Jesús Velasquez in his publication “History of Paramilitarism in Colombia.” Additionally, he states that the paramilitaries favoured, as a method of struggle, massacres, selective assassinations, and displacements of the civilian population, accused of being sympathisers or collaborators of the guerrillas. All of this was orchestrated by the military, prominent representatives of the right-wing, and to a large extent, sympathisers of the conservative party.  

 

The Old and the New 30th Street

As mentioned before, Aurora’s house was located on 30th Street; which was the last road on the hillside; which bordered to the east with the mountain, and to the south with La Honda creek. However, by the early 90s, the dizzying growth of the neighborhood had paved the way for new roads and with this, new homes appeared both on the mountain and on the other side of the creek. 

 

Precisely, La Quebrada was always the geographical limit of the neighbourhood towards the south side, comments Amparo, who in turn points out that it was this creek that became the barrier between the new and old 30th Street, roads that, due to the conflicts, did not even come to physically unite. And she also says: 

“The problem lay in the fact that our neighbourhood was always red territory. Liberal. And when the other side of the creek began to be populated, gangs that had allied with the army formed there… On that side was the military base. This made the two territories hate each other to death because the old 30 was considered a militia zone. I don’t remember exactly how many people were killed from one side or the other, but we lived years of real terror. Everything was blood and fear. We saw many people die.” 

According to Gilberto Medina Franco, by the late 80s and early 90s in Medellín what there was a strange mix of political elements, but also of rampant violence. The drug cartels had a lot of power and corrupted everything. It was not surprising that ideals changed, or that those organisations that had arisen to protect the neighbours, now were their executioners. Regardless of the side, drug trafficking, extortion, forced displacement, and homicides prevailed. The ideals were different. 

Finally, Amparo recounts that her family, and she, in particular, received threats on several occasions: 

“Because of my job, I had to get up very early in the morning, but before leaving, I had to prepare my children’s meals. One day, the gang from the new 30 came to accuse me of hiding militiamen in my house in the early morning… That was a first warning. Subsequently, the militiamen pointed me out for having conversations with those from the other neighborhood… There came a point where everything you did there represented a death sentence. It was very hard for me to let go of the little house. After all, it was all we had, but that neighborhood was not the environment in which I wanted to raise my children. One day in 1993, I closed my eyes, took Aurora and my two children, and went far from there… the house was sold at a very low price. Months later, I was told that a grenade fell on the second level of the house and the damages were great, fortunately, no one died on that occasion.” 

 

Conclusion

The narrative surrounding Aurora’s house sheds light on the complex interplay between personal and political dynamics, and how these influence housing decisions and outcomes, as well as urban design. It is crucial to understand that the urbanisation of the northern slopes of Medellín was driven by opportunistic families who, in the absence of regulations, chose to parcel out and illegally market large expanses of land. This phenomenon invites reflection on the role of the State in the development of these unregulated urbanisations and why there was a demand that encouraged such families to develop and finance these projects. This reality highlights the persistent inability of the Colombian government to provide adequate housing, turning irregular urbanisations into a business opportunity for some and a pathway to housing for others. 

Furthermore, the story of Aurora’s house allows us to understand that the Colombian government has not only failed to provide comprehensive housing solutions but that its politicians have contributed to deteriorating, and in many cases worsening, the conditions of community-managed housing. The historical and deep division between liberals and conservatives triggered a period of violence, followed by waves of conflicts that have forced the displacement of millions, forcing them to leave their homes both in rural and urban areas and to seek new places to live, significantly reshaping the urban realm. 

Lastly, the story of Aurora’s house highlights the value of community participation and how it contributes to the legitimisation and improvement of the “illegal” neighbourhoods that emerged on the northern slopes of Medellín. However, it also reflects the harsh reality of aligning with a political ideology as a community leader in a country that, to this day, continues the systematic practice of assassinating its social leaders. This story not only evidences the urban and housing challenges in Medellín but also bears witness to the ceaseless struggle for social justice, security, and the right to a dignified home in contexts of political and social violence. 

 

Acknowledgements

To my women. My grandmother, my mother, and my sister. Thank you for your effort 

 

References 

Alcaldía de Medellín & Universo Centro. (2015). El libro de los barrios: Medellín. Alcaldía de Medellín; Universo Centro. ISBN 978-958-8888-52-1. 

Amparo, my mother. 

Castañeda, J. C. (2018, 9 de abril). El Parque Gaitán: la huella de un pasado rojo en Manrique Oriental. Recuperado de https://hacemosmemoria.org/2018/04/09/parque-gaitan-la-huella-de-un-pasado-rojo-en-manrique-oriental 

Chacón, M., & Sánchez, F. (2003). Polarización política y violencia durante “La Violencia”; 1946-1963. Universidad de Los Andes. 

Coupé de Restrepo, F. (1993). Las urbanizaciones piratas en Medellín: el caso de la familia Cock. Universidad Nacional de Colombia. 

Gómez Rosa, F. (n.d.). Los grupos paramilitares en Colombia. Universidad Complutense de Madrid. 

Márquez, W. (1986). Historia del barrio Santa Cruz. Citado en Rasgando velos. Universidad de Antioquia, 1993. 

Medina Franco, G. (2006). Una historia de las milicias de Medellín. Instituto Popular de Capacitación IPC. Recuperado de http://bibliotecavirtual.clacso.org.ar/Colombia/ipc/20121207043123/historiamilicias.pdf 

Roll, D. (2002). Los partidos tradicionales en Colombia: entre el debilitamiento y la persistencia. Universidad Nacional de Colombia, Facultad de Derecho, Ciencias Políticas y Sociales. 

Sánchez Steiner, L. M. (2008). Éxodos rurales y urbanización en Colombia: Perspectiva histórica y aproximaciones teóricas. Universidad Nacional de Colombia, 57-72. 

Velásquez Rivera, E. de J. (2007). Historia del paramilitarismo en Colombia. História, 26(1), 134-153.