COLOMBIAN JUDGES FEAR VENDETTAS

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. Faceless judges were deciding
smaller cases such as simple illegal weapons possession.

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."