Public Project
Raul se fue a la guerra: que dolor, que pena
On October 8, 2006, First Sergeant Raúl Antonio Carvajal Londoño was reported killed in combat with guerrilla forces. That is the official version provided by the National Army regarding the death of Raúl Carvajal Pérez’s son. However, behind this tragedy lies a murky and unresolved story, with many unanswered questions still looming. Just days before his death, Sergeant Carvajal called his father to share joyful news: he had a new baby daughter and planned to bring her home in December to introduce her to the family. But the conversation turned somber. He also confided that he wanted to leave the Army because, as he said, “things are getting ugly.” According to his father, Sergeant Carvajal and his unit had allegedly been ordered to kill two peasants and stage the incident to look like a combat operation against guerrillas. The Sergeant refused to carry out the crime—and his father believes that decision may have cost him his life. Devastated and desperate for answers, Carvajal Pérez began his own investigation into the events of that October 8. Along the way, he uncovered a web of conflicting statements and inconsistencies—what he calls a “crossroads of lies.” The official Army version of events does not match the statements of local authorities in El Tarra, Norte de Santander.
Both the local ombudsman and the National Police confirmed that there were no irregular events in the area on that date. According to their records, nothing out of the ordinary occurred between October 5 and 12, 2006. So, who is lying? A report submitted by Lieutenant Dimir Yamith Pardo Peña, commander of the unit known as Destructor Uno, claims that Sergeant Carvajal died during an engagement with FARC’s mobile column Arturo Ruiz.
The operation, named “SERPIENTE,” began on September 28, 2006, under the command of the Second Division and the 30th Brigade in the jurisdiction of El Tarra. However, this report directly contradicts the account of Mayor Pedro Miguel Mendoza Álvarez, commander of the El Tarra police station. He stated that there were no disturbances involving the National Army or illegal armed groups during that time. Similarly, the municipal ombudsman's office reported no incidents in the area on those dates. Given these contradictions, Raúl Carvajal Pérez continues to ask: Did the Army fake the combat? Nearly two decades later, his question remains unanswered.
Despite repeated requests, neither the Prosecutor’s Office nor the Attorney General’s Office has launched an investigation. A report from the national forensics office determined that it was impossible to identify the weapon that killed Sergeant Carvajal. Alarmingly, some of his bones were missing, and fragments of newspaper were found in his cranial cavity—evidence suggesting that the body had been tampered with.
A Fight That Doesn’t End For eight years, Raúl Carvajal Pérez fought tirelessly for the truth. He staged protests in cities across Colombia, selling off his possessions to buy a van plastered with posters denouncing the government and demanding justice for his son. His advocacy came at a cost: his family distanced themselves out of fear of retaliation, and he was forced to leave his hometown for safety. Still, he continued. He brought his case to governmental and non-governmental institutions alike, hoping for answers and a sliver of peace. In an act of desperation, he even exhumed his son’s remains from a cemetery in Montería and transported them to Bogotá, placing them in Bolívar Square as a public plea for someone—anyone—to tell the truth about what happened to Sergeant Raúl Antonio Carvajal Londoño.
Raúl spent 15 years tirelessly searching for the truth he had always known in his heart—that his son had been murdered. Those years took a heavy toll on his body and soul. In 2021, Raúl passed away, finally finding the rest that had eluded him in life. His relentless pursuit of justice remains a powerful legacy. We honor his life, his struggle, and the lessons he left us about what justice truly means. Raúl Carvajal Pérez is—and will always be—a symbol of resistance.
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