COLOMBIA'S 'FACELESS JUDGES' FEAR REVENGE AS NAMES GO PUBLIC

BOGOTA, Colombia -- They are known as "faceless judges," magistrates who
for nearly a decade have decided Colombia's most dangerous criminal cases,
their names and faces deliberately kept from the public.

Now, these jurists are losing their anonymity.

Their extraordinary protection, granted under a 1991 decree after drug
cartel hitmen assassinated scores of judges, expires June 30.

And although Colombia's large drug gangs are now history, its faceless
judges fear that many of the criminals they've convicted know or will soon
learn their identities -- and some will be out for revenge.

"We've got reason to be afraid," one of the most senior magistrates said in
an interview. "We're afraid because we're not Bible salesmen. We put
mafiosos behind bars."

Master criminals this 41-year-old judge has interrogated -- through one-way
glass with his voice distorted -- include Gilberto and Miguel Rodriguez
Orejuela, the jailed capos of the now-defunct Cali cartel.

But he's not so worried about vendettas from drug barons. It's the young
assassins formerly employed by Colombia's drug gangs or right-wing
paramilitary groups that he fears -- unscrupulous youths he put behind bars
for contract killings.

"They're the most dangerous. They've got nothing to lose and are full of
rancor for everyone and everything," the judge said in his small, downtown
office overlooking Bogota's eastern hills. The offices on his corridor have
no nameplates, of course, but no bulletproof windows or doors either.

Defendants never set foot here. Nor do their lawyers. Under the faceless
justice system, entire trials have been conducted on paper, the judges
signing documents not with a name but with a number.

This separation of accused, accuser and jurist was considered the only way
to protect members of the judiciary during the heyday of the Medellin and
Cali cocaine cartels.

Between 1979 and 1991, 278 judges and magistrates were killed.

Colombia's chief prosecutor, Alfonso Gomez, says the system served its
purpose. Not a single faceless judge has been murdered since 1991, he said,
adding that the system was always considered temporary. In 1996, Congress
decided to let it lapse this year.

Now, the 57 jurists protected by the system will have to work in the public
spotlight. Though it will not be revealed exactly which cases they worked
on, the justices suspect it will be easier now for the criminals to find
out who they are.

Critics of faceless justice said that as it grew to encompass some 30,000
cases, many of the defendants it tried were not the ruthless criminals for
whom it was created.

Most likely, the 3,000 or so undecided cases will simply be passed on to a
new judge, who will work in public, and Congress will allow prosecutors and
witnesses to maintain their anonymity -- a proviso considered crucial by
many. Future cases will be decided the same way.

"If drug trafficking had been done away with, if there weren't paramilitary
death squads, if there were no criminal organizations in Colombia, then
there wouldn't be a problem getting rid of faceless justice," said Carlos
Medellin, a former justice minister who battled against drug trafficking.
"But the problem is, we're the same or worse off than before."

"There isn't a witness in Colombia who would testify against Carlos
Castano," he added, referring to the country's top paramilitary leader.
"Who would do that? It's suicide."

Castano has been indicted for murder but remains a fugitive. If he is ever
caught and tried, the witnesses against him would, under current plans, be
allowed to maintain anonymity. But the judge would not.

So far, none of the magistrates being unmasked has resigned, said Gustavo
Cuello, president of the High Judicial Council that oversees Colombia's
judges. He said they will continue to receive armed protection.

The faceless judge interviewed by The Associated Press still uses an
armor-plated car and takes a different route to the office every day. But
he has just one bodyguard now -- a far cry from the 18 who protected him as
recently as six years ago -- and no longer wears a bulletproof vest.

He earns a modest salary of $2,100 a month and can't remember the last time
he went to the movies or a bar.

The judge worries about how he'll be protected in the future.

"I sure hope the state remembers the efforts we've made," he said. "Let's
hope the efforts are remembered before something happens, because afterward
feeling sorry won't mean a thing."