You know something is wrong with a Marxist insurgency when its slain leader is found wearing a $13,000 gold Rolex. So the discovery last week of the body of “Mono Jojoy”—second in command of Colombia's notorious left-wing guerrilla group the Farc—along with the “Submariner Date” Rolex watch he was wearing, prompts some obvious conclusions. Made from steel and gold, this was a watch which could be submerged in water up to a depth of 300 meters, a watch which, according to rolex.com, is the ultimate reference chosen by professionals with a taste for style and the deep. And Mono Jojoy (named after the fat, slippery jungle worm he was said to resemble) wasn’t the only Farc commander with a penchant for fancy wristwear. “Raúl Reyes,” a senior rebel killed by government forces in 2008, also had a Rolex watch in his possession, although it was later revealed to be a fake. Mono Jojoy’s story reflects the Farc’s transition over the past fifty years from idealistic rebel army to drug-trafficking cartel—see Tom Streithorst's recent Letter from Colombia. Jojoy came from a humble background in the Colombian countryside, and only learned to read when he joined the Farc at the age of 22. Over the years both he and the organisation changed, along with the nature of the conflict. Jojoy developed into a chubby womaniser with a walrus moustache, while the revolutionary group that intended to tear down Colombia’s moneyed elites and entrenched inequalities became the country’s biggest drug outfit. In some parts of Colombia it has formed alliances with the old drug cartels and paramilitary groups, formerly the Farc’s biggest enemies, while the conflict has morphed from a political confrontation between left and right to a struggle for control of the country’s cocaine production. The Farc’s ideological decline can also be traced in the story of Tanja Nijmeijer, a middle-class Dutch woman who joined the guerrilla group as an idealistic 24-year-old. She was shocked by the poverty she encountered during a year in Colombia while at university, and soon after returned to the country to become a guerrilla; nom de guerre “Eillen.” Tanja rose quickly through the ranks of the Farc, and became personal assistant to Mono Jojoy. But her disillusionment with the revolution was spelled out in her diary, discovered in an army raid on a Farc camp in 2007. “What kind of organisation is this?” she wrote in one entry. “Some have money, cigarettes and sweets. The rest have to beg for everything. She criticised the leadership’s “hypocritical” preference for fast cars and surgically-enhanced women, asking “How will it be when we take power? The wives of the commanders in Ferrari Testa Rossas with breast implants eating caviar?” If reports in the Colombian media are correct, then Tanja may have died alongside her boss Mono Jojoy in last week’s government bombing raid. And today the notion of the once-mighty Farc taking power has never looked more unlikely. Their numbers have fallen by more than half since 2002, with a wave of desertions and the deaths of many high-level commanders. Riddled with informers, corrupted by drug money and weighed down by Rolex watches, Latin America’s oldest rebel group has long passed its sell-by-date. You can read Hannah Stone's other blogs from Colombia here and here
