COLOMBIA'S NEUTRAL FIND NO PEACE

SAN JOSE DE APARTADO, Colombia - The small hand-painted sign at the entrance
to this remote mountain village is the first clue to the hope, frustration,
and defiance within.

"We say 'no' to injustice," reads the sign nailed to two tree branches next
to the bumpy dirt road that leads into town. "We don't carry arms or
participate with any armed actors."

In a country fractured by years of conflict among cold-blooded insurgent
groups and increasingly violent drug traffickers, the hamlet of 1,100, near
the Panamanian border, has boldly declared itself a neutral "peace
community." But it finds itself under attack by groups who scorn its wishes
and seek to control it, and residents are paying with their lives.

Here, there are two golden rules: Residents are forbidden to help any group
involved in fighting Colombia's civil war; and no one brandishing a weapon -
not leftist guerrillas, not right-wing paramilitaries, not even government
police and soldiers - is allowed to enter the town or harass its
inhabitants.

"We don't accept any armed people here, whether they're from the government
or not, because we see them as a possible threat to our people," said Luis
Eduardo Guerra, 31, a member of the village council, which functions as the
government. "The only weapon we have to survive is our neutrality and
transparency."

San Jose de Apartado is the oldest and largest of a growing number of "peace
communities" that have sprouted in recent years across the war-torn country,
formed by people weary of being questioned, threatened, or killed for their
allegiance to one side or another.

With assistance from international human rights organizations and local
churches, the hamlets have created their own demilitarized zones, often
replacing traditional government bodies with local councils that do
everything from managing the local food cooperative to enforcing rules
against guns, drugs, and alcohol.

But there is an element of defiance in the community's attitude that has
frustrated the authorities.

Local and federal officials say that by refusing to allow a police or
military presence, peace communities leave themselves open to attacks by
rebels and make it impossible for government workers to provide basic
services, such as health and education.

There is only one school in San Jose de Apartado, one teacher, and few
supplies. The village's only health clinic is run part time by a doctor who
comes twice a week.

"The philosophy of the peace communities is to reject guerrillas and
paramilitaries, but they're also rejecting the police and soldiers who are
supposed to protect them," said Antonina Chaverra, a local representative of
the federal attorney general's office. She added that the residents'
stubbornness has thwarted her attempts to collect evidence in recent
killings allegedly carried out by paramilitary groups.

There is little drug cultivation in this area of the Uruba region. But its
geographic location - near major rivers, an international border, and two
oceans - makes it crucial for rebels and drug cartels transporting drugs,
guns, or supplies.

Their self-proclaimed neutrality in a region where there is constant
fighting has failed to bring peace to the residents of San Jose de Apartado
and other nearby peace communities. Leftist guerrillas suspect them of being
right-wing sympathizers; paramilitary soldiers think many are protecting
leftist rebels; and the army thinks the town is crawling with "subversives."

Since the area declared itself neutral in March 1997, human rights officials
say, more than 80 residents have died in selective killings or massacres,
including one a year ago in which five people were shot at point-blank range
in front of observers from Peace Brigades International, a London-based
group.

During a visit Sunday from a US congressional delegation headed by James
McGovern of Massachusetts and Janice Schakowsky of Illinois, residents and
international organizations attributed most of the attacks to rightist
paramilitary groups. Residents blame them for nine recent murders.

They also accuse the military of collaborating with the paramilitaries or
allowing them to threaten the communities - a charge that military
commanders emphatically deny.

"We combat all illegal armed groups and people outside the law," said
General Gabriel Contreras Ochoa, commander of the Colombian army's 1st
Division. Although the residents refuse military protection within the town,
Contreras added, "we will continue to protect and preserve the safety of the
community."

Ten years ago, residents say, San Jose de Apartado was a thriving
agricultural town of 4,000 residents in the heart of Colombia's so-called
"banana axis," famous for its miniature bananas. The area was then
controlled by the leftist Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, or FARC.

In October 1996, paramilitaries swept in and killed Samuel Arias, chief of
the local farmers cooperative, and Gustavo Loisa, president of the
agricultural association. Those killings were followed by another predawn
invasion in February 1997, when paramilitary troops pulled residents from
their beds, assembled them in the town square, and read names from a list.
Those who were called were tied up, carried off, and killed for suspicion of
being FARC supporters.

Most of the survivors fled, leaving the town nearly empty. Within weeks,
however, displaced families from smaller hamlets whose own villages had been
attacked moved in. Many settled here at the urging of Catholic nuns and
human rights workers, who promised to help them create a peace community.

Since then, 54 such communities have been established, military officials
say. Some allow a minimal police or military presence, but many do not,
either because they fear the army's troubled human rights record or worry
about attracting unwanted attention from FARC forces.

More recently, residents complain that paramilitary units have stolen
thousands of dollars in food and money by attacking delivery trucks on the
main road that connects the peace communities to the larger town of
Apartado, about 15 miles away.

"This is the paramilitary's strategy of economic strangulation to force us
to align with them," said one resident. "How could they do this with so many
military soldiers around here? It's not such a big mystery, really. But we
refuse to give up our neutrality."