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News :: Civil & Human Rights |
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Guatemala -- My Reality: Ten Years After |
Current rating: 0 |
by Carlos Gomez
(No verified email address) |
26 Feb 2003
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This is Carlos Gomez' testimony on the occasion of the 10th anniversary of the attempt on his life. Carlos Gomez is the coordinator of Foundation for Human Rights in Guatemala (FHRG), Chicago. |
#file_1#
(graphic from cover of report from Guatemalan Commission for Historical Clarification (CEH). The Report is available at: http://shr.aaas.org/guatemala/ceh/)
Carlos Gomez is the coordinator of FHRG. Carlos suffered an attempt on his life on February 25, 1993 in Guatemala. He was dragged from a bus by a group of heavily armed men, shot and left for dead. Their dress and weaponry showed them to be members of the Guatemalan army. Carlos was brought to an intensive care unit in a Guatemalan hospital where he was operated on four times. But another attempt was made on his life in the hospital, forcing him to leave the country. He finally recovered in a hospital in Chicago.
Carlos, with the support of the FRHG, has initiated and pursued a legal case against the Guatemalan government before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights of the Organization of American States (OEA). He holds the Guatemalan Army responsible and demands punishment of those involved. In June of 1997, the Commission ruled in favor of Carlos and found the government of Guatemala responsible.
This is his testimony on the occasion of the 10th anniversary of the attempt on his life.
My Reality
Ten Years After
Carlos Gomez
Today, February 25, 2003, completes ten years since those beautiful days of involvement with the displaced peoples of the Communities of Population in Resistance, CPR's. But that night became a bad dream, in a night of terror. Around 9:40pm, while I was sleeping in the rear of a bus, I was shot brutally by various well-armed men, dressed in military clothing. After stopping the bus with bursts of gunfire, using high calibre weapons, they made all the passengers get off. When I was preparing to get off, they wouldn't let me. One of them asked me, "where are the videos and the camera?" I didn't answer. They asked me again, and I told them that I didn't know what they were talking about. "I don't have any cameras or videos," I responded.
At that, they hit me in the stomach. Again, the same question. I didn't respond, and received another blow. I insisted to them that I didn't know what they were talking about. They told me, "You are going to tell me where that shit is," or "You will die, you Marxist piece of shit." I again insisted that they were apparently confusing me with someone else. Meanwhile, another two men were searching through the luggage racks of the bus. My camera and videos were there. When I heard one of them say to the other, "I found the camera; and here are the videos," the man who was beating and interrogating me (was left me coming.) As he was wearing a face mask, I couldn't see his face. But I saw in his eyes rage and hatred. As I had been denying that I had a camera or videos, he withdrew and gave the order to the other man, "Kill him." The other drew his arm, looked at me and said, "Now you are going to die," and again I heard the phrase, "You are going to die, you Marxist piece of shit," ... and he fired.
I heard when the man who gave the order asked, "Are you sure that you killed him?" And he responded, "Yes, I shot him in the heart." But the man errored. The bullet penetrated a centimeter below my heart.
In that moment, I didn't feel anything. Hearing the sound made me fall, so that they thought that I was dead.
When they left the bus, I heard a round of gunfire and I thought that they had killed two of my companions who were traveling with me. Fortunately, this wasn't so. They came running to the bus to see what had happened to me. In that moment, I felt the pain in my chest. I touched it, and my hand was full of blood. The pain became more intense and one of my companions said to the bus driver, "Let's go! My companion is wounded!"
The bus moved a little and the driver said, "Something is wrong. The bus won't move." The driver's assistant climbed out and realized that the four tires at the rear of the bus had been shot out by the round of gunfire that I had heard.
This was the start of the bad dream. The pain was immense. My companions lowered me from the bus and began to stop cars. But nobody wanted to carry me. A nice man who was driving a freight truck stopped and made his companions get out and ride in the back. He hauled me to the place called, "Four Corners," in San Cristobal Totonicapan. I was bleeding from the mouth and from the place where the bullet had entered. I was losing consciousness.
When we arrived, they carried me in front of a police station. One of my companions ran to the police to ask that they call an ambulance. One policeman came out to where I was and asked me what had happened. My companion told him, "Please sir, call an ambulance." But the policeman responded, "You all don't have to tell what I have to do." At that moment, I was hearing very little. I was shot, laying on the curb of the pavement, and I heard that the man said, "We'll see what we'll do. At any rate, this man is going to die."
I had been losing much blood. In the distance, I heard people passing by, wanting to bring me to a hospital. But the policeman wouldn't let them. Suddenly, a man came up and said, "Here is my license, if you want to report me. But I will not let this man die here." He lifted me into his car and drove me to the hospital.
Without doubt, I arrived at the point of death.
I don't know what happened next. The following day I regained consciousness. I heard them conversing in the hospital. They were saying, "Get him out of here. It is not safe here. Men dressed in military uniforms were here this morning, looking for him. And also the police have asked for him. We didn't give them any information." These were nurses and doctors who were talking to one of my companions.
By now, the newspapers were out. And the media had spread the story of the attack. A few hours later, I was moved to another hospital. The ambulance was escorted by cars from the Office of the Human Rights Ombudsman and a car from the National Police.
When we arrived at the other hospital, in Quetzaltenango, they did another operation on me. In the next twenty days, I had two more operations; four surgeries, in total. I had damage to my pancreas, intestines and liver.
I stayed a month in the hospital, and recovered a small amount. One night, someone got by the security and entered my room. I was having ultraveineous nutrition given, a liter every twenty-four hours. The person who infiltrated opened the valve so that I received the full liter in one hour. They had to move me again to the Intensive Care Unit. The damages had been severe. Three days later, I was moved from the ICU. The next day, my companions came and told me, "Carlos, we are receiving many phone calls. We are being threatened with death. We have been evaluating your situation and we believe that it is better to get you out of the country." What I had heard destroyed me and made me feel impotent. I had become accustomed to seeing all my companions and friends who, in solidarity, visited me daily.
Two dias later, at three in the afternoon, they told me, "A helicopter is waiting outside to take you to Guatemala City. Tomorrow, they will take you out of the country."
I asked, "Why, in a helicopter?"
They told me, "Your life is in too much danger. Transporting you on the ground runs the risk of them killing you."
In a wheel chair, with an enormous crowd and media, I was taken from the hospital. I was surprised that the helicopter had landed in the middle of the street (Rodolfo Robles Street, in Quetzaltenango.) On-board the helicopter, and an hour and a half later, we were in the hospital complex in Guatemala City. This hospital was different, and cold. I didn't sleep all night. I didn't know where I was going. Nobody said anything. Finally, I fell asleep.
During the day, I received various visitors, among them a delegation of companions from the CPR's that I had had stayed with. They told me, "We're sorry. We know that you were with us. We thank you for your solidarity. Please receive greetings from all the members of the CPR's."
I cried as I remembered the children, the elders and the women of the CPR's, for the conditions in which they lived and how the army bombed them constantly.
At four in the afternoon, that same day, April 7, I was transported by ambulance to the airport. I asked them where they were going to take me. They said, "To the United States." I closed my eyes and why, the United States? Later I asked, what part of the United States? No one answered me. I asked again where they were taking me. One of my companions, who had been with me all the time, from the moment I had been shot, whispered into my ear, "You're going to Houston."
I began a new stage. The government workers at the airport in Guatemala City weren't going to let me leave the country, arguing that my visa was false. The flight was delayed a half hour. Finally, I made it onto the airplane. Once there, I asked the doctor who was accompanying me where we were going.
"To Chicago," she responded.
"What?"
She repeated that we were going to Chicago.
I told her that they told me that we were going to Houston.
"I told you that for security reasons," she said.
A few hours later, I heard the announcement in the plane that we were a few minutes from landing in Chicago. Minutes later, we landed. All the passengers got off. I was the last person. A supposed ambulance pulled-up, by the airplane. And two supposed paramedics entered and asked, "Who is Carlos Gomez?"
My doctor asked them who they were.
They replied that they were paramedics and that they came to transport me. But first, they had to give me a shot. They explained that it was necessary that I be injected immediately.
My doctor stood in front of me and said to them, "We didn't ask help from anyone. You are not going to touch my patient. I am Carlos's doctor, and I am responsible for him. You have no business here.
The time passed; almost two hours in the airplane. While the supposed paramedics were talking, they also talked over the radio. They finally asked about my documents. The doctor showed them my documents. Meanwhile, in the airport waiting area, a small group of companions in solidarity were waiting for me. Among them was the doctor that would take charge of my treatment in Chicago. Finally they took me in a one of the cars used to transport luggage. I rode like that, like I was a suitcase, finally arriving at a gate. They seated me in a wheel chair, where I went through immigration without problem. The solidarity group received me and brought me to a hospital.
The hospital had an environment very different from where I had been. I couldn't understand what anyone said, although my recovery was more rapid.
Twenty-six days later, I was released from the hospital and was brought to a house of support and solidarity. I started my recuperation with a few problems. But it was encouraging. I started to think about returning to Guatemala. I met great people; most of all, a group of Guatemalans dedicated to our people's struggle.
On June 15, I made the decision to return to Guatemala. Everyone begged me not to return. En Guatemala, there aren't any conditions or guarantees for your safe return. My desire was to return. My love for Guatemala and my dedication to the people was first. Exactly two weeks later, July 2, I was entering Guatemala. A group of companions and a few people from the newspaper were waiting for me at the Aurora airport in Guatemala City. With placards in hand and signs, they yelled. I heard them say, "Welcome home! You have overcome death, overcome the oppressor!" "The workers love you!," and many other things were written on the placards.
While in Guatemala, I had no time to rest. I wanted to be in the streets and with the workers. I began to visit them, to thank them for their support and solidarity. I traveled to visit companions and campesinos on the South coast. And I began to tell the story of my experience to groups of foreign students in Quetzaltenango.
Eight days later, I realized that I was being followed and that all my movements were being watched. I was accompanied by the foreign solidarity group who lived in my house and were with me 24 hours a day. Later, we realized that the surveillance was constant. We went out, and shamelessly, they followed us. It was a clear form of intimidation.
I had been in Guatemala 14 days when, at about 1:00am, an army commander stopped in front of the house where I was staying and accelerated the motors of the trucks. I was ready to take off running. We realized that the house was surrounded by military personnel who pretended to be looking for something. About thirty minutes later, they left. The fright had passed.
The next day we left for Guatemala City to participate in a meeting with some members of the international community. In the capital city, we realized that we were being followed again. So we left for Antigua, Guatemala. There, we hid. The next day, we left again for Quetzaltenango.
I met with companions and told them all that had happened. They said to me, "Now we know why, when you weren't here, we would get telephone calls with people hanging up. This would happen over and over. Moreover, the office was being watched constantly by suspicious vehicles."
That was a meeting with five companions of the Board of Directors of the Workers' Union of Quetzaltenango. I asked them what they thought we should do. They were quiet. I knew what the silence meant. I asked them, in a trembling voice, hoping that they would tell me, no. "Do you think that I should leave the country?" The first one of them said, "I think that this is a country full of martyres. You are worth much more, living, than dead." Nothing more needed to be said. I made the decision to leave.
At that time, traveling to the United States was a quicker process. Two days later, I was returning to the United States. My last words, to a French columnist at the airport in Guatemala City, were "I am leaving. But I will become a thorn in the side to the oppressors. I promise." With tears in my eyes, in the middle of a handful of companions and friends of the European Solidarity, I became one of the uprooted, from my beloved Guatemala.
Again in Chicago. What was the plan now? To denounce the violations to human rights in Guatemala; to work for the signing of the Peace Accords; and in my case, to not be left a victim of impunity. I had a visa for six months. I planned to work on these things during the six months and return, again, to Guatemala. With friends from Chicago, we agreed upon an agenda, and we set to work. Projects took off. It was necessary to talk about Guatemala. The time was short. So we decided to apply for my visa to be extended another six months. And the gringos didn't deny it. We continued working. We formed a group of gringos, dedicated to justice and solidarity with Guatemala. This was how we formed the first organization which we now call, "The Foundation for Human Rights in Guatemala."
A good friend said to me, "Why not make a formal demand to the government of Guatemala, concerning your treatment?"
I told him that he was right. So we launched an investigation a few weeks later. There was a team of lawyers available to take the case before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights of the OEA. It was getting to the end of my visa, again, and the case had not been concluded. So they convinced me to apply for political asylum. So this was when another legal team was formed, to try to gain political asylum.
On June 9, 1994, we were presented the case, in Washington D.C., like a birthday present, which would be celebrated the next day.
The time passed. We were the first case to present, that day. The case was, for me, therapy, like a form of revenge. I took plenty of time to tell all the representatives of the government what I felt.
My case before the Inter-American Commission was given the number, 11.303, and was called, "Carlos Gomez vs. Guatemala." It gave me pleasure to see that. Finally, the OEA, in their annual report of 1996, ruled in my favor. In their report, No. 29/26, October 16, 1996, they laid the responsibility for the attack on my life upon the State of Guatemala, for not having made effort to investigate my case in the Guatemalan courts. They blamed, directly, government agents for having committed clandestine acts and attacks against human rights labor activists. Moreover, they recommended to the Guatemalan government to make financial reparations for my physical and psychological damages.
This was a victory! Yes, a moral victory which I shared with all companions and friends in Guatemala, who died anonymously, without anyone saying anything out of fear, or perhaps because they were simply denied access to justice. I shared my happiness especially with those companions, children and elders of the CPR's, who died, peppered with bullets from military assassins; with all those whose bodies were never found; and with all of you who remain strong and in solidarity with the people of Guatemala.
Today, on this tenth anniversary, one more time, I reaffirm my promise with my people. From this place so far away, and yet so close, we will continue in the struggle against the assassins and the oppressors who, today, still, are in the streets of Guatemala, and who continue to act under the mantle of impunity, that the governmental authorities provide for them, to continue committing their misdeeds.
Because our resolve is firm, solid and true.
Carlos Gomez
Chicago
February 25, 2003
#file_2#
The Foundation for Human Rights in Guatemala is located in Chicago. It was founded in May, 1993, by a group of North Americans and Guatemalans concerned about the human rights situation in Guatemala. The organization was created with a mission to educate, make known, monitor and be vigilant for the full respect of human rights. Now our principal objective is to work for the complete fulfillment of the Global Accord on Human Rights, signed between the Guatemalan Revolutionary National Unity (URNG) and the government of Guatemala. Another objective of FHRG is to help demolish the wall of impunity that continues to exist in Guatemala.
http://fhrg.org/
Article composition and layout by ML/UC IMC |
See also:
http://fhrg.org/
http://members.aol.com/casaguate/
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Comments
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En Espanol |
by ML
(No verified email address) |
Current rating: 0
27 Feb 2003
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http://www.ucimc.org/feature/display/9833/index.php |
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Re: Guatemala -- My Reality: Ten Years After |
by Jack Ryan
(No verified email address) |
Current rating: -1
04 Mar 2003
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hey Carlos, I did not care ten years ago, so why would I care now. It looks like I am not alone here. Try again in 10 years.
Jack |
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