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Carlos Lehder Released: Medellín Cartel Co-Founder Walks Free in Colombia

Carlos Lehder Rivas, a founder of the notorious Medellín cartel, has been released from custody in Colombia following a court ruling that his previous drug trafficking conviction had expired. The decision, made by Judge Martha Yaneth Delgado, has reignited discussion in the Colombian legal system about justice for former cartel leaders.

Lehder, now 75 years old, was detained upon arrival at Bogotá's El Dorado International Airport in late March 2025. The arrest was based on a 1995 conviction for illegal possession of firearms. However, Judge Delgado ruled that these charges were no longer valid because of the statute of limitations.

"Given the aforementioned arrest report and taking into account that on the date set, the statute of limitations of the sentence imposed on convicted Carlos Enrique Lehder Rivas expired, his arrest is not legalized," Judge Delgado stated in her ruling.

This latest development concludes a tumultuous journey for Lehder, who revolutionized cocaine smuggling in the 1980s by using air transportation and establishing Norman's Cay in the Bahamas as a crucial transshipment point. After his extradition to the United States in 1987, Lehder served more than 30 years in U.S. prisons before being deported to Germany in 2020 for health reasons.

Legal complexity and international implications

Lehder's release underscores the complexity of international law, especially with prolonged extraditions and the expiration of legal claims. It also highlights the ongoing fight against drug trafficking and its continuing impact on Colombia's legal and social fabric.

Sergio Guzmán of Colombia Risk Analysis notes, "People who have been tried in U.S. courts ... have in fact never been accountable for their crimes before Colombian judges and courts." This sentiment reflects a broader frustration with the perceived lack of accountability for cartel leaders in their home countries.

A legacy of crime and controversy

Lehder's case brings renewed attention to Colombia's historic drug trade. His innovative use of air transportation and strategic island bases dramatically increased the cartel's influence and profits. These tactics, combined with his flamboyant lifestyle and anti-extradition stance, made Lehder a key figure in the explosive growth of the cocaine trade during the 1980s.

In a rare statement about his past, Lehder once admitted, "I was a gangster ... My goal is to share these experiences so that others will not be tempted in the future." However, this reflection does little to mitigate the devastating impact of his actions on countless lives affected by the drug trade.

Health Problems

Lehder's attorney cited ongoing health problems as a factor in his client's legal proceedings. "He is recovering from cancer and has problems with high blood pressure," the lawyer explained, highlighting the complexity of dealing with aging former cartel members.

As Colombia grapples with this latest twist in its longstanding fight against drug trafficking, questions remain about how to balance historical justice with current legal standards. Lehder's release serves as a stark reminder of the enduring legacy of the Medellín cartel and the challenges in reconciling past crimes with contemporary justice.

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Bukele's prison strategy expands: El Salvador takes in criminals from U.S.

El Salvador, under President Nayib Bukele, has deployed a strict strategy against criminal gangs such as MS-13 and Barrio 18. This approach, known as the "Territorial Control Plan," was strengthened after an outbreak of violence claimed 87 lives in March 2022. The government declared a state of emergency, leading to mass arrests of suspected gang members and the suspension of certain fundamental rights. A [...]

A key element of this policy was the construction of the Center for the Control of Terrorism (CECOT), a large-scale prison that opened in January 2023 with space for 40,000 inmates. This institution was built to relieve overcrowded prisons and accommodate the thousands of individuals detained during anti-gang operations.

In a special twist, the U.S. and El Salvador have reached an agreement under which El Salvador will accept prisoners from the Americas, including U.S. citizens and legally resident aliens convicted of serious crimes. These prisoners will be housed in facilities such as CECOT. The agreement was officially announced following a conversation between U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio and President Bukele. According to Bukele, this arrangement contributes to the sustainability of the Salvadoran prison system.

On March 16, 2025, the first group of more than 250 alleged gang members arrived in El Salvador, mostly from the Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua and MS-13. This transfer took place despite a U.S. court order temporarily halting such deportations. The U.S. government invoked the Alien Enemies Act of 1798 to justify these deportations, causing legal and ethical debates.

Critics, including human rights groups, have raised concerns about the situation in CECOT, particularly overcrowding and alleged human rights violations. Nevertheless, Bukele's crackdown remains popular among the Salvadoran people, as the murder rate has dropped significantly and there is a greater sense of security in the country.

This cooperation between the US and El Salvador marks a new phase in the international fight against organized crime and highlights the complex balancing act between national security and human rights.

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Haiti on the brink: Gangs, violence and hope for change


It is June 2024 and Haiti, the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, once again faces a turning point. Faced with a crushing combination of political, humanitarian and security crises, the country once again appears to be teetering on the brink of collapse. As gang violence escalates, the question remains whether it will ever find peace again.


Gangs are increasingly occupying more of the power vacuum and are estimated to control around 80% of the infested country's capital. While the UN previously agreed to a Kenya-led multinational security mission in 2023, legal obstacles and financial difficulties have so far prevented it from coming to fruition. As a result, the power vacuum remains unabated, much to the chagrin of the population.


The assassination of President Jovenel Moïse in 2021 has exacerbated Haiti's constitutional crisis. The parliament is no longer functioning and the judicial system is facing enormous problems. Late last month, the transitional council elected Garry Conille as the new prime minister; he arrived in Haiti this weekend. Will Conille be able to restore order and end the chaos gripping the country?

A nation in decline
Haiti's problems are not new. For decades, the country has struggled with poverty, corruption and instability. But in recent years, the challenges have reached critical levels. The assassination of President Moïse sparked a new wave of violence and anarchy. Gangs took control of large parts of the capital Port-au-Prince and surrounding areas. Rapes, kidnappings and murders became daily occurrences to spread fear among the population.


Historical background of gangs
The origins of armed groups in Haiti date back to the 1950s, when the dictatorship of François Duvalier created the paramilitary group Tonton Macoute to suppress dissidents. After the fall of the Duvalier dictatorship in 1986, the Tonton Macoute was officially disbanded but never disarmed. Its members reorganized as vigilantes and continued to play a role in the country's political violence.


In 1994, President Jean-Bertrand Aristide disbanded the Haitian army and banned pro-Duvalier armed groups. This did not end the violence, however, as ex-soldiers and militias joined informal militant factions. During the 1990s and early 2000s, youth groups known as chimères emerged and were supported by the police and the government to consolidate Aristide's power. These groups took control of entire neighborhoods and became increasingly independent.


Evolution of gangs
After the devastating earthquake in 2010, youth groups became even more powerful. The earthquake led to mass escapes from prisons, strengthening the ranks of the gangs. Under the rule of President Michel Martelly (2011-2016), politicians accused of crimes were protected, further reinforcing the culture of lawlessness and violence.


By 2022, it is estimated that there were about 200 gangs operating in Haiti, half of them in the capital, Port-au-Prince. One of the most influential gangs is the "G9 alliance," led by former police officer Jimmy Chérizier, also known as Barbecue. This alliance controls large parts of the capital and has positioned itself as a revolutionary organization.


Jimmy "Barbecue" Chérizier
Jimmy Chérizier, better known by his nickname "Barbecue," is a former police officer who has become one of the most influential and feared gang leaders in Haiti. His life took a drastic turn when he decided to take the law into his own hands and join the world of gangs and organized crime.


As leader of the "G9 alliance," a coalition of nine gangs, Chérizier has acquired considerable power in the capital city of Port-au-Prince. His alliance controls large parts of the city, where it often calls the shots and provides both protection and fear to the local population. Chérizier justifies his actions by claiming he is fighting against the widespread corruption and inequality that plague Haiti. He positions himself and his alliance as a revolutionary organization that stands up for the rights of the poor and marginalized.


However, his claim to noble struggle is overshadowed by the numerous allegations of crimes against him, including murder. Despite these serious allegations, Chérizier remains a powerful and influential figure in the Haitian underworld and politics. As Haiti continues to struggle with gang violence and political instability, the role of Jimmy "Barbecue" Chérizier will undoubtedly remain a major topic of discussion and controversy. His story illustrates the complex and often violent realities of life in a country plagued by poverty, corruption and abuse of power.


The current situation
The current situation in Haiti is grave. Since late February 2024, the capital Port-au-Prince has been plunged into a state of violent anarchy. Gangs have reached not only the poorer neighborhoods but also the previously relatively safe and prosperous parts of the city. Residents of neighborhoods such as Pétionville, Laboule and Thomassin have fled the violence.


The gangs have attacked key infrastructure, such as electricity supplies, leaving parts of the city without power. Port-au-Prince's airport and port have been closed for a long time and are still not operating normally, leading to shortages of food and medical aid. The UN estimates that half of Haiti's population, about 11 million people, are currently starving.


As the Haitian people suffer from gang violence, political leaders struggle to find a solution. Prime Minister Ariel Henry, who took office after Moïse's assassination, failed to restore security. He resigned in March 2024 under the pressure and inability to control the chaos and violence in the country. In a video message, he said the country needs peace and stability.


A new hope
In these dark times, the appointment of Garry Conille as the new prime minister offers a glimmer of hope. Conille, a former UN official, has experience in Haiti. He was previously, from October 2011 to May 2012, prime minister of Haiti under then-President Michel Martelly and was former chief of staff to Bill Clinton in his role as UN special envoy to Haiti. Conille served as UNICEF regional director for Latin America and the Caribbean since January 2023. "Together we will work for a better future for all of our nation's children," Conille wrote on X as an initial response to his appointment. Conille was appointed as prime minister by Haiti's Transitional Council on May 29; he arrived in Haiti on June 1.


UN security mission
Part of the key to success will have to be international support. By October 2023, the UN Security Council had already approved the deployment of a Kenyan-led multinational security mission (MSS). But political and legal obstacles delayed implementation; for example, in January 2024, a Kenyan court ruled that it was unconstitutional to send Kenyan police officers to Haiti. This ruling is being challenged, but is still causing delays. In addition, the mission is facing financial problems, as the UN Trust Fund has received only $21 million of the required $600 million. Kenya was also keen to get paid in advance, but UN rules state that payment can only be made in arrears. Also, there are several operational challenges to the mission, including the heavy arming of Haitian gangs (and the lack thereof on the part of Kenyans), the risk of civilian casualties in urban fighting and possible corruption within the Haitian police. Despite these challenges, Kenya remains determined to lead the mission, with additional U.S. support.


A battle on multiple fronts
As Kenyan troops prepare for their mission, gang violence only increased last year in Haiti. The gangs, which by now had united and signed "Among themselves a non-aggression pact," launched coordinated attacks on government buildings and infrastructure. The Haitian police, understaffed and ill-equipped, could do little. It is estimated that today nearly 80% of the Haitian capital is in the hands of gangs.


Uncertain future
As Haiti enters the summer of 2024, the future remains uncertain. If and when Kenyan troops arrive and whether they will be able to deal with the gangs is still unclear. There are great uncertainties in breaking the cycle of violence and poverty. It will not be easy, and success is by no means guaranteed. The humanitarian situation also remains precarious, with high risk of disease and famine.


But for the first time since the taking of the power vacuum by gangs, there seems to be a possible way forward for this troubled country. The next few months will be crucial. Although many eyes of the world are not on Haiti, but mostly on Ukraine/Russia and Israel/Palestine, hope may be the only thing the Haitian people have left. Hope for a better future, hope for peace, hope for a new beginning for Haiti.

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333 days on an unknown front line

It's easy to talk in hindsight, we sometimes say. And I agree, sometimes that statement is rather simplistic. As a researcher, with conflict and crisis areas as my field of work, I have become familiar with uncertainty and chaos, with facing dangers from time to time. I have managed to hold my own in some of the most volatile regions of our earth. However, the enemy I encountered 333 days ago was one I was never prepared for. This invisible enemy in the land of the blind, has torn me away from my familiar front lines and placed me on a completely different one: 333 days on an unknown front line.

 

Lost in Chaos

There I lay, in intensive care, a world away from the places where I once researched and reported. The memories of the chaos and violence of the past decade seemed even more distant at that moment. I had just given Mijntje the OK sign of divers and I got one back from her so that meant she could see me and that I was still there. My hands were tied to the bed with soft "handcuffs," a snake in my throat prevented me from speaking. Cables and hoses ran from different parts of my body to beeping machines on the wall. In delirium I would imagine at times that those cabinets would occasionally be fed fresh cabbage and other vegetables by the nurses, these they would cut fresh on a table after which it would enter my groin and flow into my body through small tubes. Every now and then they would check my blood values to see if I needed more cabbage or carrots, during my delirium I saw more things that did not match reality. 

 

The diving sign that everything was fine was not obvious

Giving the diving sign to Mijntje - that everything was okay - turned out not to be so obvious in retrospect. Only later would I learn how choices that seemed deliberate beforehand carry much more weight when it comes down to it. Especially when those decisions involve someone dear to you and you have to make those decisions in a less protected environment than over a nice conversation with a good glass of wine. Only later would I understand how badly I had put someone on the spot with this.

As you may notice, I find it difficult to talk about this topic. Although I strive to be open about this as usual, it is important to protect myself and those around me. I do my best, but ask for understanding. Nevertheless, onward from here.

 

Dreams or reality

Many of the details of what happened in the first few days in the hospital either did not come to me, or escaped me later. I wouldn't be able to put the strings together until later. It was conversations, patient letters and bouts of memory that helped me put these pieces of the puzzle together. I remember a piece of the flight back to Holland, arriving at the airport, our homecoming. I remember being at the doctor's office, the hospital, and then a hard pressure on my chest. I think I was trying with my hands and arms to keep someone from pressing my chest again. Later I would hear that they had to resuscitate me. But if you ask me now if what I remember was a dream or reality, I wouldn't dare put my hand in the fire for that. The days and weeks that followed were a mix of reality and illusion - an experience I wouldn't wish on anyone.

My body was weak. Even sitting upright was a huge task. In the first few days it seemed like I was attached to the hospital bed like a magnet The cables and tubes connected to me became less and less day by day, until finally even the IV was disconnected and removed from my now very weak hand. I think a specialist from almost every department was involved in my case. I was given dozens of types of medication, yet each day felt like a new step, sometimes even a victory, however small.

The whiteboard at the foot of my bed listed my weight, among other things. It started at 77.5 kg and dropped to 62.4 kg in just one week. That's more than 15 kg of fluid leaving my body. Although I was never particularly heavy, especially in recent years, during the subsequent rehabilitation process, I would gradually move back toward 80 kg.

 

The sense of progress and the enduring struggle

Sometimes I feel like I still have a long way to go, but then when I think back on that period, I realize how far I've come. They say it goes like this: You make rapid progress in fits and starts, but recovery is not a linear process. There are times when it takes longer to feel like you've taken a step forward, and not everything is measurable. What I do know for sure is that it is intense. My days are filled with physical and occupational therapy, swimming, going back and forth to the hospital for tests, and much more.

It has now been 333 days since I was on the brink of death, and I can look back on that time with a different perspective. Not only on the period in the hospital, but also on the time before that. After being home for a few months and undergoing day treatment, I was readmitted to rehab a week and a half ago. What first seemed like an injury three months ago later turned out to be a more complex problem. After surgery two weeks ago, another one is scheduled in a few weeks. If all goes well, after that I will soon be able to work on my rehab and get back to where I was before the "injury," and continue from there

 

A renewed focus and the path forward

For the first six months of my rehab, I couldn't think about work. That is still difficult, but in addition to my rehabilitation, I am trying to spend some time exploring opportunities. For now, that will be on the digital front lines, as the other fronts are difficult to reach by wheelchair. Moreover, my medical condition does not yet allow me to think about leaving at all.

The outlook is relatively good and I hope to have an even better picture within three months. One thing is for sure, this could have turned out so much worse. I may not be able to do everything I did before, but it has given me new insights that allow me to do certain things better. My life will be permanently changed by this. I look differently at my own abilities, my own body, but also at my loved ones and at the essential things that make life worth living, sometimes things I had lost sight of.

In the coming time I will be more active online again. I might write about different topics from time to time than you are normally used to from me, but I hope they will not be less interesting.

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'My cousin is dying'

As soon as I walk through the gate of her home in Cabimas, I get a hug that doesn't seem to stop. These have been difficult days for her. Last week, she received her first cancer treatment. She was lucky; the drugs needed for treatment were crowdfunded by her daughter who lives in Europe. The cost for 10 treatments? Converted to 820 monthly wages. A week earlier, one of my team members brought the drugs from Caracas to Cabimas, 700 km away.

Lying in her hammock, she recounts the events of the past few weeks, how she dropped a few eggs earlier today and could well cry, and especially how she was shocked afterwards that she has to cry over something as simple as broken eggs - due to hyperinflation, a box of eggs now costs one month's salary.

My cousin is dying

Something extraordinary happened. I posted on facebook a picture of the bizarrely high bill for her medication, 2.1 billion. Another facebook friend responded. Lilia: 'My cousin is dying, no medicine, a tumor in his head'. I contact Lilia a learn that her cousin Julian (24) is in a public hospital in Caracas. We decide to look for him.

Julian's grandmother lives in a suburb of Caracas. With tears in her eyes, she recounts Julian's childhood. 'He was a serious boy, didn't smoke, rarely drank,' even after the diagnosis, he remained strong, no one understands where he got his zest for life and energy all this time.

Several years ago, his health deteriorated. At first the family had money to have him admitted to a private clinic, but as the country's inflation was rapidly increasing, the money ran out "all the money went to medicine and food." On top of that, the family lost money as it ended up in the pocket of a specialist, who ended up disappearing abroad with the money without providing treatment.

Julian ends up in El Llanito, one of the largest state hospitals in Caracas. The family goes to the government to apply for support, eventually it would take two years to actually receive the first support.

Medications are resold

The medical world in Venezuela is going through a huge crisis. Medicines are almost impossible to get and imported medicines are unaffordable. Cancer, AIDS and dialysis treatments have been stopped. Many hospitals have closed or are nearly non-functioning; many doctors have fled. A few weeks earlier, I stood in front of a Barquisimeto hospital talking to a group of medical students; none of them planned to stay in Venezuela after completing their studies. With a monthly salary of less than 12 euros converted, the doctors who have remained can hardly make ends meet themselves. Medications meant for patients are not administered but resold privately, with hand money you get priority and better treatment.

Pilot, teacher or chef after all

As a child, Julian wanted to be anything and everything. Pilot one day, teacher the next, Julian's mother let me know in one of our conversations. A treasure, he learned hard. Before he got sick, there was a moment when he decided to become a chef and sold shoarma at the garage of his house. Unfortunately, his hands were not fast enough (anymore), but he tried anyway. On weekends, he spent a lot of time with his grandmother and grandfather. The latter was like a father to him. In general, he was a good boy. Except for normal things like cleaning up the laundry, he never made trouble or argued. His life consisted mostly of studying, eating and sleeping. And even now during his illness he talks about continuing his studies at university and starting his own business.

Monitored by government agencies

Julian's grandmother invites me to visit the hospital. 'They don't have anything in the hospital. I have to bring everything food, medicine, cleaning products, they don't even have water there,' the grandmother informs me on the way. The Llanito hospital is guarded by government agencies; at the entrance to the hospital is a checkpoint of the Guardia Nacional, and members of the Guardia also walk through the hospital. Outsiders and certainly journalists are not welcome here, but the grandmother manages to sneak me past the checkpoints.

Deplorable conditions

Most of the lights are not working, but one of the four elevators in the hospital (not maintained for years) is functioning. It's filthy, it stinks. I am carrying the bag of food when we walk into Julian's room; it turns out he is not there, but is in the intensive care unit. We seek him out, something that will prove more difficult than previously thought, as we are initially denied access. Only later would I notice how wretched the conditions of intensive care where, due to lack of cleaning and disinfectants, your death sentence is almost certainly signed. 'I visit him every day, if I can't take the car or the subway I'll walk,' the grandmother tells me as we walk away from the ward. A nurse calls after us 'don't forget to buy soap and diapers'.

Downhill

After a long diagnosis, Julian is told that he has a brain tumor that is not treatable (ed: in Venezuela), from there it goes downhill. Necessary antibiotics cannot be found, for other medications the family also has to search by themselves, and even the catheter and IV bags are no longer in stock at the hospital.

Julian's situation worsens, he can now communicate only with his eyes and is incontinent. He contracts meningitis. According to Julian's Mother, he contracted it in the hospital. At home, they have taken precautions, such as keeping sick people away from Julian.

A few days after my visit with Julian, a nurse comes to tell the mother that she needs to visit her son because it is believed that he will not make it through the morning. She sees that Julian is no longer "with it" by then and that he can no longer breathe on his own, "he no longer responded to touch." I then asked God to deliver Julian from this suffering. 5 Minutes later, mother is called back and learns that her son has fallen into a coma, 5 minutes later Julian dies at the age of 24.

Burial costs 60 monthly wages

Julian's family is lucky, the funeral can be paid for because Julian's grandfather used to work at a university. They contributed, and the mother's employer also contributed 20 million. The total cost of the funeral was 300 million (ed: converted 60 monthly salaries plus bonuses). The coffin had to be rented. The mother let me know she was lucky to have a large family to help, "family members did everything they could. Cousins, for example, helped look for medicine on the Internet'. Others do not have this and are on their own.

Sometimes the family could not stay at the mortuary because of the smell of corpses. There are too many dead and "some people don't have money for the funeral and leave the body there.

For his funeral, mother bought white roses to hand out to loved ones. One of the people who received such a rose told that Julian had once given her one of those as well. 'When he was little he brought it to my work. Everyone loved him. He was very innocent, different from others. I cannot accept that a person of his character should die this way'.

Government's fault.

Mother feels Julian's death is the government's fault, she worked as a teacher for 15 years and insurance has not helped her now. "It's the government's fault.". "Maduro should send people to see what is happening in the hospitals. I can't understand that he doesn't know, if he sends people he can see the suffering and need of the people."

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Opinion: the Netherlands fatally irresponsible

While all of Venezuela's neighbors are doing everything they can to control the flow of refugees and increase pressure on Maduro's dictatorial regime, refugees must be deported from the Dutch Kingdom at any cost, with all the consequences that entails. Even making deals with internationally wanted criminals is not avoided. In the past few months, I was researching this humanitarian crisis and the dubious role of the Netherlands in all of this in both Venezuela and Curaçao. Given the acute importance, here is a brief account. 

Fleeing for survival

Millions of Venezuelans are fleeing their dictatorship in search of a better life. Hundreds of thousands are fleeing simply because there is no food or need medical attention. Others are fleeing, fearing arrest or worse. Thousands cross the borders of Brazil and Colombia every day, some taking the risk of reaching the islands of the Dutch Kingdom in rickety boats. Those who are lucky can live there in the shadow of the tourists in illegality with the daily fear of being arrested, those who are less lucky are arrested even before arrival, imprisoned in inhumane conditions, only to be sent back to the dictatorship they fled with all the risks that entails.

 

A humanitarian crisis

Venezuela's neighbors, the EU, the United Nations, Amnesty, UNHCR, everyone but the dictatorship itself recognizes that a humanitarian crisis is underway, one of the biggest known to our generation. The regime of "President" Nicolás Maduro blames an economic war allegedly being waged against the country. He calls the refugee figures implausible. Meanwhile, millions of Venezuelans have fled because survival has simply become impossible; the flow of refugees is only expected to increase. What little food there is left is unaffordable, most of the hospitals have closed and medicines are virtually unobtainable. Cancer, AIDS and dialysis patients are doomed.  

The vast majority flee to their largest neighbors, Brazil and Colombia, where they are recognized as refugees; relaxed visa requirements and special status give them a measure of protection. Many travel on, sometimes even on foot, to Ecuador and Peru. Pressure on the border areas is intense, and international aid has only recently begun to arrive.

Flights to Curaçao

Others choose to reach the Kingdom's islands from northern Venezuela on increasingly rickety boats. Whereas last year I could go along for 12 euros, today demand has increased so much that the price has risen to $300. One or more boats depart daily at night. Between fifteen and thirty refugees are sailed to just off the coastline of Curaçao where they have to reach the island while swimming. Recently I spoke in Puerto Cumarebo with some Venezuelans who were about to leave and asked them what they expected. They talked about their last chance. The seventy-kilometer crossing can be a dangerous one; several times bodies have washed up on Curaçao.

Directly deported

Sometimes the boats are intercepted by the Coast Guard even before the coast. These people are immediately arrested and detained in prison, from where they are deported (sometimes after only a few days) back to the humanitarian crisis they fled. Prison conditions are degrading. Several witness statements and a recent Amnesty report confirm the picture of belittling, mistreatment and the inability to claim rights. Children are separated from parents and denied medical care. Both Amnesty and UNHCR have called on the Kingdom to stop this degrading treatment.

Illegally undocumented

Most of the refugees do manage to reach the islands without being intercepted. However, the kingdom does not recognize these people as refugees but refers to them as illegal undocumented migrants. These people, estimated at between 10 and 15 thousand, live illegally on the island. Many of them live underground, afraid of being arrested and deported, with no chance of claiming medical care or any rights. Many women end up in prostitution, estimated at around two thousand. The police regularly conduct searches around the island, sometimes arresting dozens of refugees at a time.

Curaçao says it has no capacity and financial resources to receive the Venezuelans. Several times 'The Hague' has been asked for help, but there the leaders point to the islands' own responsibility. The Netherlands has promised help with knowledge of the immigration and naturalization service and has pledged one hundred thousand euros for renovations to the prison. Last week, another pledge of almost 150,000 euros was made to realize a closed shelter for women.

Block's dark deal

in April this year Minister Blok appeared out of nowhere on Venezuelan television, where he had just managed to secretly make a deal during an unannounced visit that resulted in the lifting of the long-standing border blockade between Venezuela and the Dutch islands. Among others, he was accompanied by the American wanted drug lord Tareck El Aissami. We later learn that Stef Blok had been working behind the scenes to prepare this deal and used the state visit to Colombia to finalize it.

Full prisons

Later, Blok's intention in a interview with René Zwart become clear: , "I was able to observe the effects of the blockade for myself during my visit. The islands really suffered a lot. They depend on imports from Venezuela for foodstuffs, especially fruits and vegetables. There is also the problem of people from Venezuela coming to the Caribbean parts of the Kingdom in search of a better life. The islands have no room for that. It threatened to become such large numbers that it would become disruptive. So it is of utmost importance that migrants who come to the islands for economic reasons can be returned. For me, therefore, the core was to get the blockade lifted, and knowing how crucial it is for the islands, that is what I worked for."

Aruba's controversial consul

The reason for the blockade was initially said to be smuggling. However, at play behind the scenes was that the Netherlands was blocking the appointment of Aruba's new consul, Carlos Mata Figueroa. The Netherlands threatened to block the appointment not only because this ex-military man has no diplomatic experience whatsoever, but also because he is known to have ties to the Kartel de los Soles and is also suspected of being responsible for ordering murder. He came into disrepute after, when he was governor, he ordered Tupamaros to attack associates of his opposing candidate. During Blok and Aissami's press conference, it became clear that the Netherlands would no longer block the appointment, and the day after the deal, Carlos Mata Figueroa was appointed consul of Aruba.

Maikel Moreno

Several countries including the Netherlands (through the EU) have placed most of the regime's leaders on the sanctions list. Including Maikel Moreno, who appears with a total of 42 countries on the sanctions list. Maikel Moreno is the president of the new higher court established by Maduro and, in addition to being jointly responsible for violating human rights, is also suspected of murdering a teenager, for which in 1989 he was arrested became. Weeks after signing the deal with Minister Blok, the Dutch-sanctioned Moreno appears at the international criminal court in The Hague. Answers to parliamentary questions reveal that the Netherlands had to make special efforts to get sanctions out of the way to make this visit possible.

Summary executions

Several organizations note human rights violations. Hundreds of people died during protests, thousands were arrested. Recently, Amnesty released a report finding that over eight thousand Venezuelans have been summary executed in recent years.

Immediately after the deal was signed, the Kingdom continued to deport Venezuelan refugees. The fruit boats, which Blok said were a major reason for the deal, have been waiting for months and have (temporarily) lost their permanent place on Curaçao's wharf.

My thoughts

During my latest, three-month research, I went in search of Venezuelans recently deported by the Kingdom. A few had decided to flee to another neighboring country, others were about to make another attempt to reach the islands, but the trace of several after deportation is obscure. The families I spoke to are distraught and fear they may never see their child again. In a broadcast at" Real John!" of last week, I too express my anguish about the fate of the missing deported refugees. It also becomes clear during my research that an asylum procedure does exist on Curaçao, but is inaccessible. In a hidden camera action, it becomes clear how people are sent from pillar to post and are eventually never offered the possibility of an asylum procedure.

Knowingly complicit

The recommendations in Amnesty's report - including a temporary halt to the deportation of refugees - were ignored by Curaçao last week. Curaçao and also the Netherlands continue to label the refugees as illegal undocumented migrants who come to the island for an economic reason. I see it differently: they are not economic refugees, but there are economic reasons not to see them as refugees. And with that thought, knowing what is going on in Venezuela, knowing about opinions and reports from various organizations, knowing that political opposition and criticism against Maduro's regime can lead to imprisonment or summary execution, knowing that people are dying on a large scale due to shortages of food and medicine. Knowing all this, yet simply sending people back without any procedure of this kind makes you complicit in their fate.

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In conversation with Jan Roos at Cafe Weltschmerz

Cafe Weltschmerz: Venezuela is one of the most dangerous countries in the world with 27,000 murders annually. 96% of those go unsolved. Journalist Michel Baljet needs a team of locals to feel somewhat protected to walk through Caracas. A report on developments in a neighboring country of the Kingdom of the Netherlands.

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How one of the richest countries in the world can be poor - Part 1

Yesterday in Venezuela, following an investigation into "illegal exchange rates," 86 people were arrested, 112 arrest warrants issued, 596 raids conducted and 1133 bank accounts frozen. Maduro calls it the outcome of one of the largest criminal investigations in history. But really, it is nothing more than a distraction from the real problem.

No exchange offices

Unlike many other countries, there are no official exchange offices for foreign currency in Venezuela. Exchange can only be done at the government, but they no longer have money. Exchanging foreign currency such as Dollars is therefore prohibited. However, the black market trade is gróót, and the price has skyrocketed. In 2014, it was 80 bolivars per dollar. Today more than 550,000 bolivars.

The food trade

In contrast, the government kept the rate of the Dollar artificially low for decades. 1 Dollar was 10 bolivars, but only obtainable by companies that were friends of the government. Since 85% of products are imported into Venezuela -and there was almost no production in its own country- the government managed to keep power over the food trade this way. In recent years, the government did move somewhat away from the one rate policy. Now they operate several. All still far from the black market rate.

Don't unhook yet. If you want to understand how one of the richest countries in the world can be poor, let's go through this. Foreign reserves, 9.8 billion left. To paint a picture. The budget of the Netherlands (2018) is 277 billion. Back to Venezuela. 95% of Venezuela's income comes from oil exports. The country's oil production has halved in recent years (refinery failures, etc). The price of oil has seen better times, but is still higher than when Chavez came to power.

The debts

come from the country comes from oil. Production has been cut in half. Now a word about the debts. To keep paying for everything, the regime has borrowed a lot of money (from China). Their weapons they buy with loans (from Russia). Those loans they pay back with oil. In total, more than 2/3 of oil exports go to paying back loans.

So oil production goes down, what does come out of the refineries goes into debt and the import-dependent country runs out of foreign currency. Airlines can no longer be paid and stop flying into the country. Food can no longer be imported; a scarcity occurs. Medicines can no longer be imported; people die.

The food shortages
Food shortages combined with government-regulated prices on some products stopped the last bit of food production in the country. Queues grew in front of state supermarkets. A black market for food emerged with rapidly rising prices.
People still need to eat, medicines are desperately needed. The government says there is no humanitarian crisis in the country, so international aid is not allowed either. People have to get their food and medicine from neighboring countries. No one accepts their currency, the Bolivar. The government has no Dollars, a black market in Dollars is developing.

Wage of 2 Dollars per month
Meanwhile, the minimum wage is falling rapidly. With today's average black market rate less than $2 a month. People are selling their possessions, getting into crime or whoring themselves out. Corruption was on the rise. Hundreds of thousands of people fled the country in recent months.

Back to where I started. The government is calling yesterday's arrests an outcome of one of the largest criminal investigations in Venezuela's history. And as Bart Schut also points out, the country has bigger problems. And this example is just the tip of the iceberg. Meanwhile, Brazil is considering closing its border, it is harder to flee to Colombia, Chile is making stricter visa requirements, and we are sending Venezuelan refugees back.

Distraction

Maduro will continue to do everything but distract from the real problems (including corruption). Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands will die from shortages of medicine, food and from rising crime.

We will not see much of this. Many journalists are stuck, have fled the country, and communication to the outside world will become increasingly difficult. People will give up hope for international help. That's about it for today. Had to get out. Thank you for your time. Don't forget this country, you are hereby warned.

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One thought: The life of a freelance journalist

To begin with. I am aware that I have the choice to do what I do. I see it as a privilege. In many countries, people don't have a choice. I could have done something else. I also know that I don't exactly have the greatest resume right now. Those who know me a little know that I have a big backpack.

And from a homeless situation a few years ago, I'm trying to find my niche. That said; so like many freelancers, I am trying to find a place in journalism. It's a conscious decision not to review movies or write about the latest soccer games.

We unfortunately live in a world where not everyone has equal opportunities. A world where innocents become victims of oppression, corruption or a war they did not ask for.

Let me say up front that I didn't start doing what I do to get rich. I place little value on material things, but I do want to be able to pay my rent at the end of the month. I take the risk of working in crisis areas, and of course no media house is obliged to take anything from me. But I do worry about journalism.

In recent years, mergers and budget cuts have changed a lot. Permanent staff were replaced by freelancers and social media and citizen journalism have gained an important role in newsgathering. The (foreign) correspondents who are still permanently employed are given an increasingly larger area to cover, sometimes even one person for an entire continent.

One liners and populist articles win out over in-depth research, and the delusion of the day seems to have become an object of suffering. An attack no longer has news value and wars that continue seem forgotten.

It is sometimes frustrating and despondent to walk around somewhere where people are literally dying of starvation or lack of medicine, and to look around me at a world that seems blind.

A substantiated article about 25,000 murders in a country like Venezuela I can't get rid of on the street, but let me voluntarily lock myself in the country's most notorious prison, that scores.

Before a trip, of course, I try to get letters of intent; this is difficult, sometimes because I don't know what I'm writing until I'm somewhere, but mostly because no commitments can be made in advance.

I pay for what I do mostly out of pocket, up front, and then have to gamble that the misery I come across is hip enough to sell. Sometimes I try to raise some money through crowdfunding. A trip to a crisis area is not free. Besides costs of lodging, tickets, sometimes some food, a major investment is safety (yes, I'm not tired of life, and my mother likes to see me return home safely).

And then comes the time when an editor responds to your pitch, or picks something up from you. Regularly a request if you can briefly do a live report on a current situation. For free. But fortunately also paid assignments. Then the negotiations begin, well, you don't really have much of a bargaining power as a freelancer. A radio interview earns me between €45 and €145, an article of 1600 words with photos max €350 and for an inside report of 6 pages I can be happy with €900.

Once I sell something then come the payment deadlines. With luck I get an invoice paid within a month, but more often I have to wait three months or more for it to finally reach my account.

I always try to live as frugally as possible when on the road. Cheapest airfare, public transportation whenever possible, lodging instead of hotels, you name it. But it's not free. I also don't travel with a large team (outside of my possible security), often alone. Camera, audio recorder and notebook in the bag, as having to be able to deliver all forms of content is a requirement.

More and more in recent years I get the feeling that the news is not coming from the field, but more from the delusion of an editorial board and the news feeds of agencies like the ANP and Reuters. Fast news rules. As an example. Take the clearing of the refugee camp in the Jungle. Been there several times, and was there several days before the announced evacuation. A day beforehand a current affairs program called that they might need my help the next day, A similar request from a radio station. On the day itself I saw that they had sent a reporter of their own, there was no way to cancel the call. Radio was still possible, but there was no budget. 400 journalists stormed into the clearing. Broadcast cars were driven in, no expense spared. The first asylum seeker was pulled in front of the camera a few minutes after arrival and not much later the media circus left again. And with that, the viewer at home had to make do.

I feel the Netherlands is lagging behind in journalism. More and more newspapers are coming under large media groups. We do not have a 24-hour (TV) channel.

And then there is trust in journalism. A combination of populism, black-and-white thinking and general distrust is blurring news value. We no longer seem to care about content, but instead argue about titles.

Well, that had to come out. Purpose: In my mind, something has to change. For a rich and prosperous country like ours, we need to be better at dealing with this. Have a nice day.

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Oscar Perez. Public enemy No. 1, or an invention of Maduro?

After a seven-month manhunt, a standoff took place yesterday in a suburb of Caracas (El Junquito) between security forces and several people from Oscar Perez's group. This standoff could be followed minutely via social media until 16:11, the moment when another part of his group indicated they had lost communication with him. In his latest Instagram video a few minutes before, Oscar Perez shouts with a bloodied face "We have wounded, we have wounded, and they keep shooting at us. We're going to surrender! Stop shooting!".

The story begins June 27, 2017, when former CICPC agent Oscar Perez appeared over Caracas in a stolen police helicopter and launched an apparent attack on President Maduro's government.

Who is Oscar Perez. 

Oscar Alberto Pérez (36) was born on 07-05-1981, was an inspector of the CICPC (investigative police) for the past 15 years, also a member of the Special Actions Brigade (BAE) and Chief of Air Operations. Oscar Perez is also known as an actor in an action film called Muerte Suspendida (Suspended Death) . Oscar Perez was a father and describes himself as  'I am a man who goes out without knowing if he is going back home'. He was very active on Instagram in which he displayed his knowledge of weapons in cinamatic videos.

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He gained notoriety in Venezuela when, on June 27, 2017, he stole a helicopter from the CIPC and carried out attacks over downtown Caracas. This occurred at a time when many Venezuelans had been taking to the streets for months to demonstrate against Maduro's government. During this demonstration, over 100 protesters were killed.

Perez hung from the helicopter a banner reading "Article 350, Freedom" a slogan used by protesters who oppose the ruling party.

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Article 350 of the Constitution of Venezuela "The people of Venezuela ... shall renounce any regime, legislation or authority that violates democratic values, principles and guarantees or violates human rights."

During his flight on June 27, Oscar Perez threw two grenades from the helicopter at the headquarters of the Superior Court, 15 shots were reportedly fired in addition. No one was injured. Shortly thereafter, the Guardia National stormed the national parliament, injuring several parliamentarians, and detaining journalists and attendees.

Oscar Perez's action came during an eventful few days. Earlier, President Maduro evoked much outrage with the statement "we will never give up, and what cannot be done with votes, we can do with weapons, we will liberate the homeland with weapons. And as the demonstrations continued in the streets, Attorney General Luisa Ortega Díaz (a formerly staunch ally of the government) was expelled. She eventually fled the country.

Maduro described Perez's action as an act of terrorism, Oscar Perez instantly became public enemy number one, and the same day government forces reportedly went to Perez's home to arrest him. Oscar Perez released a video on the Internet later that day explaining his action earlier that day and his plan for the future of Venezuela. He indicated that he supports the protesters and the people of Venezuela, that he is not alone and that he wants to fight for a free Venezuela.

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Click on the image above for the video of his statement.

Óscar Pérez has been the center of doubt, criticism and inspiration from both government dissidents and protesters and the government itself over the past six months. Some believe Oscar Perez is an invention of Maduro's ruling party to distract people, but others consider him a hero.

The following months 

A day later, the helicopter used by Oscar Perez will be recovered in Vargas. Only a few days later, on July 4, we hear from Perez again through a series of Instagram videos. He indicates having made an emergency landing, being in good health "we will be there to defend our people.

After a lull, Perez appeared in public again for the first time on July 13. This was during a demonstration in Plaza Altamira (downtown Caracas). After a brief statement accompanied by several masked men, Perez quickly disappeared on ready motorcycles. In the months that followed, Perez appeared only in some exclusive interviews and through posts on his Instagram and Twitter account.

Under the name Operation Genesis, Perez appears in a video on Dec. 18. He indicates having taken control of a National Guard post near San Pedro de Los Altos. It would later be revealed that, among other things, 26 machine guns were taken during this action. On Dec. 30, Perez's former home is set on fire; family members are injured. In a message, Perez condemned the action, indicating he would not give in.

Jan. 15, 2018

Early in the morning on Monday, January 15, 2018, reports arrived that a large-scale police operation was underway in a suburb of Caracas, El Junquito. Rather quickly, Oscar Perez published his first of eventually 14 videos of the day. He reports being surrounded by police and negotiating.

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A post shared by Oscar Perez (@equilibriogv) at

We don't see you as enemies! We didn't do this for ourselves. We did this for you, for your children, for your families....

Oscar Perez: We are here on the new highway in El Junquito. We are negotiating. We don't want to fight these officers, in fact, we know some of them. We are patriots, we are nationalists who fight with conviction. To those of you who doubted: here we are, fighting. They opened fire on us and we are taking cover, but now we are negotiating with the officers [incomprehensible] and the officials and the press. Venezuela, don't lose hope. We continue in your name. May Almighty God and Jesus Christ accompany us in this mission.

Man with gun: The God of Israel is with us. People of Venezuela ...

In the videos that follow (see Instagram) Perez and his men reiterate having done it not for their own gain but for the people of Venezuela. He indicates that civilians are also present in the house and that they are being shot at.

In the seventh video, an Oscar Perez appears with a bloodied face.

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A post shared by Oscar Perez (@equilibriogv) at

Oscar Perez: They shoot at us with RPGs, grenades-grenade launchers. A man is yelling at the authorities: we have families and we want to see them again! There are civilians here! We told them we wanted to surrender, but they don't want to. They want to kill us!

Several images that later appeared on social media show a grenade launcher being used.

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In the videos' that follow, Perez and his men repeatedly report being shot at and not shooting back. 'They don't want us to surrender. They literally want to kill us. They just told us that. Be strong. In his latest Instagram video, Oscar Perez shouts: 'We are wounded. We're wounded and they're still shooting at us. [Shouting] We're going to surrender! Stop shooting!" after that, there is silence both in the Caracas suburb and on Instagram. On Perez's Twitter account, a moment later, a message appears.

The account is managed by direct colleagues of Oscar Perez. 'We don't know anything about the current situation, they have already reported for several minutes'.

In the hours that follow, much remains unclear about the situation of Oscar Perez and his men. Until CNN reports that a senior member of the Venezuelan government, who asked to remain anonymous, confirmed that Oscar Perez would have been killed. In a speech later that day, Maduro indicated that 5 people were arrested, 2 police officers died and 5 police officers were injured during the actions. There is no word on the number of wounded and casualties among Oscar Perez's group. At the time of writing this post, it has not been officially announced that Oscar Perez would have died.

The photo below was allegedly leaked to various media outlets by a government employee. You would see the lifeless body of Oscar Perez.

Update 3:28 p.m.. National police confirm the death of Oscar Perez.