Late one February night in 1987, a small group of leaders from various village councils along the Carare River, in the heart of Colombia, met in secret. They were respected family men who had been in the region for some time and knew each other well. In the back room of a house, they discussed the pressing topic of how to respond to a threat of violence against the community, an ultimatum from multiple armed groups giving residents a choice to displace, join one of them in the conflict, or be killed. The community had already seen years of atrocities, and even their small gathering risked great danger – should anyone have seen them or passed word of their discussion on to any of the armed groups, they would have been killed.

They were caught between armies, but what were they to do? If they threw their lot in with the army or paramilitaries, the guerrillas would surely find out and kill them. And yet, if they joined the guerrillas in hopes of protection, the paramilitaries would have no mercy. “Well,” one man proposed, “we could find some weapons – take up arms and defend ourselves.” Others demurred, arguing that they were not soldiers, had no weapons, and would easily be crushed by the standing armies. “What's worse,” another said, “we would be no better than the armed groups, and then they would have every right to target us.”

To manage this problem of stigmatization, the discussion came around to a fifth option. From then on, they would manage their own affairs and would not take any part in the conflict among the armed groups. Unsure how the armed actors would respond, they sought them out in motor-canoes to declare they would neither leave nor take any sides. Surprisingly, after many months of discussions, the various armed groups acceded to the civilians’ policies. The result was the formation and survival of an organization called the Peasant Workers Association of the Carare River, or ATCC.